Instead of answering, Korben grabbed Loc Rhod by the collar.
A security guard stepped forward, but Korben shoved him out of the way. His partner hesitated.
Korben rammed Loc Rhod against the wall, wedging his head into the corner, holding him up so that his feet were six inches off the floor.
“Green?” Korben said. “I didn’t come here to play Dumbo on the radio. So tomorrow between five and seven, give yourself a hand. You GREEN, pal?”
Loc Rhod’s eyes were about to bulge Out of his head. “Super green!” he said.
The check-in attendant, resplendent in her see-thru dress and vinyl pillbox hat, examined the two tickets in her hand.
She read them curiously.
“Mr. Dallas? Mr. Korben Dallas?”
“That’s right,” said Zorg’s Right Arm, giving her his most persuasive smile.
Which was not very persuasive.
With her foot, the check-in attendant tripped the passenger scanner, and its ultralight beam played across the face of Zorg’s Right Arm.
Which remained the face of Zorg’s Right Arm.
“The problem is,” said the attendant, “I have only one Korben Dallas on my list. And he’s already checked in.”
“Impossible!” said Right Ann, his smile shattering. “He’s in jail—I mean, there must be some mistake. I have my ticket. And I am the real Korben Dallas!”
DING! A bell rang at the end of the gate corridor.
“Sorry, sir,” said the attendant. “Boarding is finished.”
Zorg’s Right Arm reached for the attendant, just as a thick plexi screen rose from the check-in counter.
“I’m Korben Dallas!” Right Arm yelled, thinking of the torments Zorg would prepare for him if he failed. “I want to see your boss! Get rid of this stupid window! Somebody’s made a mistake, goddammit!”
He pounded on the counter with both fists.
The only result was that a steel curtain descended to back up the plexi screen.
“THIS.IS.NOT.AN.EXERCISE!” said a robotic voice from an indeterminate spot in the air, where an atmospheric speaker node had temporarily coalesced.
Red laser sighting beams sliced through the air, forming target spots on Right Arm’s body.
“THIS.IS.A.POLICE.CONTROL.PUT.YOUR.HANDS.IN.THE.YELLOW.CIRCLES.”
Gun barrels protruded from the wall, the counter, the floor.
“Sorry!” said Right Arm, in his best dealing-with-insane-authority voice. “Just a little overexcited. That’s all. I’m CALM now…”
19
KORBEN HATED SPACE TRAVEL.
The military ships were bad enough, with all the cannon fodder lined up in hard aluminum seats, each man lost in his own nervous thoughts as he was warped across the galaxy toward the latest suicide mission.
Commercial coach class was even worse. Standing room only, and a tiny bag of dry roasted peanuts unless the trip was over a hundred light years, in which case you got half a cold sandwich and a peanut-butter cookie.
But this trip was different. No cattle car, no peanuts. First class only.
“Leeloo,” Korben whispered as he made his way toward the back of the spaceship.
The corridor was lined with small private cabinettes.
“Leeloo…”
As if in answer to his deepest wish and fondest
dream, a cabinette door slid open silently, and there she was—stretched out on a velvet cushion, studying a computer screen.
First class!
She flashed Korben a galactic-quality smile as he sat down beside her.
“Apipoulai!” said Leeloo.
The cabinette door slid shut, and she turned back to the characters scrolling past on the screen. The search engines were humming.
“Yeah, I know,” said Korben nervously. “Leeloo, listen to me. Those tickets you borrowed—they’re not mine. I mean, they are, but not for a vacation like everyone thinks.”
Leeloo shrugged. Did she understand? Korben wondered. Sometimes she seemed to understand everything—and at other times nothing. All he knew for sure was that he was on a very dangerous mission, and he wanted to keep her out of the line of fire.
“I’m working for some very serious people,” he said. “And if I didn’t come here with you, you’d be in a shitload of trouble. I’d love to be on vacation with you—”
It felt so good to tell the truth!
“But not now! Now I’ve got to work. And Leeloo—I would love to work in peace. Understand?” Seemingly in answer, Leeloo typed a four-letter word into the keyboard:
L-O-V-E.
“Yes!” said Korben. “But ‘love’ isn’t the operative word here. ‘Peace’ is.”
Leeloo typed in P-E-A-C-E.
“Peace,” she parroted, repeating after Korben. “And love…”
The computer’s search engines whined and brought up a picture of a 1960’s style hippie in love beads, flashing a peace sign.
Korben sighed. He had read about the hippies. Anti-war. He was anti-war, too, but from the inside out, not the outside in.
“Bad example,” he said, switching off the computer. “You know, you can’t learn everything from a screen. Sometimes it’s better to ask someone who has experience.”
“Okay!” said Leeloo, nodding happily. “What is… make love?”
“Uh…”
Korben stared at Leeloo. Such a combination of innocence and experience. He had never hesitated in front of a woman before, but this woman was… different.
This woman was truly what he wanted, and therefore he was truly afraid for the first time.
“Know what?” Korben said, blushing beet red. “Maybe on that subject maybe you’d be better off asking the screen.”
And he switched the computer back on.
Meanwhile, in the corridor, a disembodied robotic voice announced in soothing tones: “To.make. your.flight.as.short.and.agreeable.as.possible.our.
flight.attendants.are.switching.on.the.snooze. regulators.which.will.encourage.sleep.during.the. trip…”
A stewardess made her way along the corridor, pushing a red button on top of each first class flight cabinette.
And in the cockpit, the captain and the copilot were completing their preparations for departure. “826 passengers aboard and accounted for…” “Roger, checking list for preflight…”
“Okay! Finished!” Leeloo said.
She was speaking English? Korben looked at her in amazement.
“Finished what?”
“Learning languages.” She switched off the computer.
“You mean… English?”
She nodded. “All nine hundred!”
Korben was amazed. “You learned all nine hundred Earth languages in just five minutes?”
“Yes! Now it’s your turn. I learned your languages; you have to learn mine.”
“I know how to say ‘hello,’” Korben said. “Apipoulai.”
Leeloo nodded happily.
“Teach me how to say ‘good-bye,’” Korben said. “That’s all I need to know.”
“Apipoussan!”
“Apipoussan?” Korben repeated tentatively.
Leeloo nodded. “Good! Do you know how we say ‘make love?’”
“Uh…” Korben fumbled.
“Hoppi-hoppa,” said Leeloo.
Korben’s heart and his resolve were melting rapidly as he looked into the eyes of the most beautiful creature he had ever beheld.
“Help,” he mumbled in a small voice to himself.
At that moment, the stewardess pressed the snooze regulator button on the top of Korben’s cabinette, and checked another name off her list.
“Sweet dreams, Mr. Dallas,” she said.
Korben, who was about to take Leeloo in his arms, fell into hers instead.
Instantly asleep.
At the other end of the corridor, another stewardess was having a problem.