“She was created to protect life, not to live. If you want her to live, she must learn how to love. Her eyes closed.
The door to the Diva’s stateroom swung open noiselessly.
The housekeeping robot looked in, beeped twice, and trundled on.
On the wail, the little cylinder glowed and the liquid crystal counter turned over.
20:00
19:59
“You can’t die!” Korben said.
He slapped the Diva’s cheeks gently.
Her eyes were closed. Her gown was soaked blue with blood.
“We have the world to save here, remember? You hear me? Where are the Sacred Stones?”
Her eyelids fluttered. Just barely.
It could have been from Korben’s breath.
Orbit Achieved said the readout on the instrument panel of the ZFX200.
Zorg floated up from his seat. The little ship was so primitive—no faux grav!
But what did Zorg care? He had what he had come for! He grabbed the gold and ivory box that was floating nearby.
It was deja vu all over again.
Empty!
“Where are the stones!?!”
The Diva’s eyes opened one last time.
On Korben Dallas, cab driver, one-time war hero, now intent on saving the Universe.
She smiled weakly.
One last smile.
“The stones… are with me…”
And the blue blood flowed from her mouth, and she closed her eyes for the last time, and she died in Korben’s arms.
In the crawl space above the Diva’s stateroom, Leeloo clutched herself, in sudden indescribable pain.
“NNNNOOOooooooo!”
24
“Hands on your head!”
Korben looked around and saw that the Mangalores now controlled the aisles, the stage the entrances and the exits to the Concert Hall. They were in total control.
“Everyone!” said a Mangalore.
“My man!!” Loc Rhod hissed. He was hidden a few feet away from Korben, under a row of seats. “I think we should, like, listen to them!! ”
“Give me a minute,” said Korben. He was studying the still form of the Diva, repeating her last words: “The stones are with me. With me?”
“Hey! You!”
Korben’s reverie was broken by the rude knobby hand of a Mangalore, who grabbed him by the collar and pulled—
—only to be yanked off his feet by a lightning judo move and flipped over Korben’s shoulder to land flat on his lizard-skin ass with a—
WHUMP!
When the Mangalore opened his eyes he saw Korben crouched over him, Korben’s gun was in the alien warrior’s mouth.
“I said give me a minute!”
Korben motioned to Loc Rhod, who crept out of hiding.
“Hold this,” said Korben. He put the handle of his gun in Loc Rhod’s hand, leaving the barrel stuck in the open mouth of the petrified Mangalore.
“Oh, man, Korben…” complained Loc Rhod. But Korben wasn’t listening.
He was kneeling over the body of the Diva Plavalaguna, repeating her dying words to himself as if they were a mantra:
“The stones are with me—the stones are with me.”
Korben pressed down on the Diva’s stomach. It was soft.
Then hard.
“The stones are in me?”
Hesitating for only an instant, he plunged his hand into the gaping wound in the Diva’s side. And pulled out a Sacred Stone.
“Yes!”
Startled by Korben’s shout, Loc Rhod flinched. BLAM!
The top flew off of the Mangalore’s head brains spattered the apron of the stage.
“Oh, man!!” said Loc Rhod. “I’m sorry!”
Korben pulled out another stone, then another, then another.
All four were covered with bright blue blood.
He tore off his shirt and wrapped the stones in it, then handed the bundle to Loc Rhod.
“Lose these stones and I promise, you’ll look like him.”
Korben pointed to the dead Mangalore. “Got it?”
“Green!” said Loc Rhod. “Super green!”
“Good. Follow me!”
“Green. Super Green!”
Loc Rhod’s words came loud and clear through the twin speakers on the desk of the President of the United Federation.
The President wiped his face with a towel. “How many people do you think are listening to this?” he asked one of his scientists.
“Around fifty-two billion, sir.”
The President turned to General Munro. “Is that your idea of a discreet operation?”
“Don’t worry, sir,” Munro said nervously (though he looked worried himself). “I know my man Dallas. He’ll calm things down.”
“He damn well better!”
CRASH!
The glass doors of the Concert Hall burst into a thousand pieces as two Mangalore warriors were thrown through them, into the hall.
Behind them came Korben, a ZF1 in each hand “Everybody down!” he yelled, as he swept the lobby with laser fire, mowing down the retreating Mangalores.
BratbratbratBratbratbrat!
BratbratbratBratbratbrat!
Answering fire echoed from the right, and Korben hit the deck, rolling behind a massive fluted column.
Loc Rhod slid in beside him, still rapping in his hovering skeeter-mike.
“This is amazing!! Korben, Korben Dallas, winner of the Gemini Croquettes contest, just killed three warriors like he was swatting flies!!” Bratbratbrat!
Two more Mangalores were firing at the column, shredding it into shards of sharp shrapnel. Barang! Kahwang!
“Come on!” said Korben, and he half dove, half rolled across the lobby to the intemission band.
“No way!!” said Loc Rhod.
Mangalores were concentrating on agile DJ scurried up a curtain to the balcony he continued commenting on the action BARRAP BARRAP BARRAP!
Another Mangalore was using his ZR1 missile launcher, destroying the intermission band by piece. The missiles were getting closer and closer to Korben.
Clikityclik!
Korben’s ZF1 was empty. Looking desperately around the lobby, he saw an abandoned laser rifle on a nearby pool table.
The galactic film star Baby Ray was hiding under the pool table.
“Toss me the gun!” Korben shouted.
“What?” Baby Ray poked his head out, just as another missile chewed up another section of the bar.
“The gun, for Christ’s sake!” Korben shouted. He pointed at the ZF1, which lay amid a cluster of pool balls.
“Oh,” said Baby Ray.
He rolled the pool balls across the floor toward Korben.
“Thanks,” said Korben sarcastically. “That’ll sure help!”
“Hands up!”
Korben looked up.
A Mangalore was looking over the bar, a ZF1 in hand.
“Stand up. Slow!”
Korben stood up.
Slow.
Still moving slowly and deliberately, he climbed atop the bar. The Mangalore was standing on a fallen ceiling panel balanced on a bullet-riddled Mangalore corpse.
“Down!” said the Mangalore.
“Okay,” said Korben obligingly. He stepped off the bar, onto the panel.
It seesawed, sending the Mangalore on the other end flying straight up.
The Mangalore’s hideous head rammed through the balcony and stopped—an inch from Loc Rhod’s terrified face.
“Yeeeeaaaahhh!!”
“Yech!” responded the Mangalore, face to face” with the DJ.
The alien’s battle-honed reflex depressed the trigger finger on his gun, which sprayed the lobby with laser bullets—
Bratbratbrat!
—three of which took out three other Mangalores running toward Korben. WHAK!