Disclaimer: I own nothing
Authors Note: Yo ho ho I'm back again with chapter two! Hope your all enjoying it, let me know if you are or aren't (Not that I'm gonna stop if your not :P) this chapter follows on directly after chapter one so if you forgot what happened go read it again! And we have Daisuke in this chapter! Yaaaaay! Not much longer before the gorgeous Ken-chan makes his entrance (in style might I add!)
Note: Scene change (though it's kinda obvious but meh!)
The Fifth Element
Chapter Two
"Good God!"
Daisuke Motomiya sat up in his bed.
There had been a blinding light, a tremendous explosion, and…Daisuke shuddered and shook his head.
Another nightmare.
He looked over at the clock on the bedside table. "Bring!' it said.
"Hush!" said Daisuke, flicking it with one finger as he reached for a half opened packet of pocky which sat next to his matches.
"March 18, 2413,' said the clock. '8:00 A.M'
"I know, I know," Daisuke whined.
"Meow" mewed his pet cat from the hall. There was a scratching sound as the small white feline tried to dig its way into the apartment.
"I'm coming," Daisuke said irritably, nightmares, clocks and cats, what next! The phone started ringing with an ear shattering pitch.
Everything at once!
He picked up the phone as he crossed his tiny modular apartment room towards the door, chewing thoughtfully on his sweet treat. Behind him the bed made itself.
Daisuke was a well-built man in his mid twenties, his short burgundy hair which sprung about wildly on his head, only after a few swipes with a comb did the mess settle down, he was very good looking in spite of the light scars on his face and arms that revealed a somewhat more adventurous than judicious nature.
"Yeah?" he said into the phone, swallowing his mouthful and tucking the matches into his front pocket.
"Hey bud!" said a familiar voice, "Wallace here!" His oldest friend and now his cab dispatcher.
Daisuke wedged open the stuck cat door and a small yellow eyed cat ran in. "Hi sweetie." He said.
"I love you to, Major but you haven't called me that since we were dating back during basic training."
"Not you, Wallace. I was talking to the cat." Now looking for his cigarettes (which he was supposed to have given up) Daisuke opened a drawer in the bedside table. It was filled with medals.
He unrolled a paper. A medal of Honour certificate, made out to Major Daisuke Motomiya. For valour above and beyond the…
"Oh, yea, I forgot," Said Wallace. "You prefer your pet cat to the real thing."
Daisuke unrolled another paper. A faded photograph of him with his ex-boyfriend. Beautiful, if slightly predatory…
"At least the cat comes back," Daisuke replied. He dropped the picture into a drawer and it rolled itself back up. Under a tangle of campaign ribbons, he found an old fashioned packet of cigarettes, the box unfortunately was empty.
"You still pining for that two-timing boy whore?" Wallace asked. "Forget him. There are millions of men and women out there."
"I don't want a million," said Daisuke. He eyed the matches which were kinda useless now but tucked the back into his pocket. "I just want one. A perfect one."
"Don't exist, bud."
Daisuke pulled out another photo. Two men in uniform, standing in front of a batwing space fighter. "Just found a picture of us," He quipped down the phone to Wallace.
"How do I look?"
Daisuke threw the cigarette box into the trash, "Like shit."
"Must be an old picture," Wallace replied, "Listen up-"
Daisuke crossed to the refrigerator and opened it in search of something more filling than half a bar of pocky. It was bare except for a single empty container of Gemini Croquettes. He picked it up and studied the banner over the label: "Win a dream trip for two to Fhloston Paradise!"
"I'm listening," Daisuke muttered, closing the refrigerator.
"You gotta bring me your hack for the six month overhaul," said Wallace, "I need the cab Daisuke, ASAP!"
Daisuke crossed to the tiny sink and turned on the tap. A dribble of brown water came out. "Don't need an overhaul." He replied almost sulkily.
"Sure you do."
Daisuke filled a pan with brackish water and put it on the stove. The burner lit automatically.
"You're forgetting who sat next to you for a thousand missions," Wallace continued, "I know how you drive."
"Wallace!" Daisuke moaned as he scoffed the last chunk of his pocky, "I'm driving a cab now, not a space fighter!"
"How many points you got left on your license?"
"Um…" Daisuke calculated a lie. "At least thirty."
"In your dreams. See you tonight!" The phone clicked at Wallace hung up. Daisuke sighing, did the same.
The water was boiling. Daisuke dropped in a pill of instant Colombian. He took the saucepan off the burner and set it on the tiny three-legged table. The burner blazed on merrily. Daisuke slapped the stove. The burner shut itself off.
"Meow." The cat jumped on the table and eyed its cat bowl. Daisuke scratched the small kitty behind the ear and set a bowl before it. He poured half the instant coffee into his own cracked cup, and half into the cats bowl.
"Sorry sweetie, that's all I have."
"Meow"
Daisuke tapped his cup against the cat's bowl.
"Cheers."
The office of the President of the United Federation was quite. The wall screen was powered down- transparent. Beyond it, the towers of Manhattan soared into the dirty sky. Only a few military officers remained, standing in a line in their bright uniforms, nodding in unison like soon-to-be-extinct birds.
The President was busy ignoring them.
He was bent over his massive desk, examining an ancient sketchbook. The red-haired priest, Koushirou Izumi, was turning the pages slowly. Taichi, his apprentice was watching closely.
"You have forty-eight hours," Koushirou began. "The time it needs to adapt itself to our living conditions."
"And then?" Jou asked pushing his glasses up his nose, his pale face laced with worry.
"And then it will be too late," said the priest. "The goal of this thing is not to fight for money or power. Its goal is to wipe out life. All forms of life!"
"But why?"
The luminous black eyes of the priest gazed off into space- or inward toward some dark mystery. "I wish I knew."
Across the room, the incoming signal on the viewscreen was beeping. The screen slowly began to become opaque, obliterating the view of taxi-cabs and traffic flitting among the towers,
"So what you are telling me, Father." The President said, "is that there is nothing we can do to stop this?"
"There is only one thing." Koushirou looked toward the screen. "And it is on its way."
Light years away, in a remote sector of the galaxy, a mile-long starship was speeding toward Earth, the home planet of the United Federation. It was picked up and locked on by DEW (Distant Early Warning) scanners.
It was operated by a race little known to Earth, but well known to the red-haired priest, who was explaining the best he could, to the President…
"This is a Mondoshawan," Father Koushirou said, showing the drawing of the alien that had been made in the temple by Michael, five hundred years before. Jou studied the round, bulky, body; the tiny triangular head. "The Mondoshawans have in their possession the only weapon that can defeat the Evil that is upon us."
"Which is?" Whispered Jou, leaning forward to catch every word the priest would utter.
Koushirou directed his gaze to the book as he turned the page. "The four elements- Earth, air, fire and water- gathered around a Fifth Element. The supreme Being, the ultimate warrior, created to protect life."
Jou raised a brow and looked sceptically at the page, lest it be said he was expecting something else. The page showed a human figure encased in armour. Metallic gloves held a case engraved with the emblem of the three suns.
"The case holds the Sacred Stones. Together with the Fifth Element, they produce what the ancients called the Light of Creation, able to bring life to the farthest reaches of the Universe. But if Evil stands here-"
He pointed to the Fifth Element.
"Then what?" Asked the President impatiently. Koushirou looked up into the man's eyes. "White turns to black. Light to dark. Life to death. For all eternity."
"Mr. President…"
Jou turned and saw one of his generals holding a blinking cell phone. "We have a Mondoshawan spaceship at the frontier requesting permission to enter Federation territory."
The President looked at the diminutive priest who had brought such immense news- and then at the generals, "I guess I should make a decision," he began.
"Sir!" said the general, covering the phone. "These Mondoshawans do not belong to the United Federation. We do not know their intensions. I recommend an immediate military interception before…"
The President broke in angrily, a tone not often heard by the otherwise calm man.
"Did you see that thing swallow our starship like a gumdrop? You can't even tell me what it is! I ask you for options and you give me bullshit!" Jou blushing slightly at the use of such language slammed his fist against the desk. Koushirou jumped back and Taichi scowled at the general who shrank at the anger directed toward him.
"Send them my permission to enter our territory. With my warmest regards."
Koushirou let out a long sigh and smiled at his apprentice, "Thank you Mr. President," he whispered, closing the ancient sketchbook he carried with him.
Picture, if you will, a ship as large as a small city, entering a star system to which has been granted access. At the controls are the Mondoshawan elders, those who have taken it as their sacred trust to guard the Universe against its greatest Evil- which manifests itself every few millennia.
The Mondoshawan are a race so serene, so philosophical, so untroubled by small corruptions and infelicities that their appearance, while it might seem ungainly or even ugly to some, has a soothing effect on all they encounter; for underneath their rude exterior shines the demeanour of a fully evolved race that has made peace with itself and with the universe.
The Mondoshawan ship reflects the grandeur of its builders. It is large, a little ungainly, but stately in it movements and steadfast in its purposes.
But the ship is not alone. Following it, a little way above and behind, are two nasty looking warships that look like killer jellyfish.
Mangalore Warships.
Now imagine, if you will, a race of beings so ugly that evolution has provided them with temporary shape shifting powers, so that they can look in the mirror without suffering the shock of seeing themselves.
The Mangalores have developed their evasive genius to a high art, and are using it to hide from the Mondoshawan space ship. They are following above and behind (Behind in time as well as space, and above in space as well as time), and closing fast.
The Mangalore at the controls is about to experience his race's greatest joy. Total destruction. For the Mangalore, there is no greater pleasure than to destroy something more beautiful than itself. And that includes everything in the universe.
And this time he's even getting paid for it!
This is a plethora, a cornucopia of delights. He is going to destroy the Mondoshawan ship from behind, without warning. Sneakiness is its own reward.
He hits the controls with an almost sexual thrill (sex among the Mangalores is intimately linked with killing) and pulls down.
A blast.
A hit.
Confusion reigns aboard the Mondoshawan ship. For while the Mondoshawan are reconciled to their own deaths, they are fully aware of the importance of the weapon they are delivering to a defenceless Earth.
The Mangalore fires again. And again.
And again.
Another hit. This one fatal.
The Mondoshawan ship veers toward a tiny nearby planet.
The Mondoshawan commander locates an uninhabited area, and locks the controls.
The blast shakes the sky…
"Welcome to Paradise!"
Daisuke Motomiya paused on his way to the door. The TV screen behind him was filled with an image of palm trees, blue water, white sand.
"Damn!" Daisuke cursed under his breath. He whished he could afford a TV with an OFF switch. The cheap (i.e., free), model that filled one corner of his modular apartment lightened up whenever a commercial was on. They arrived unannounced, like the mail-order catalogs of yore.
"Welcome to Fhloston Paradise! Tonight, from five to seven, Yamato Ishida, the ultimate DJ, the man listened to by more people than anyone else in the Universe…"
The cat watched, entranced.
"…will announce the winner of the Gemini Croquettes Contest. Two days in Fhloston Paradise!"
"Don't watch it all day," Daisuke said, scratching the cat between the ears. "It'll rot your mind." The cat meowed distractedly, yellow eyes fixed on the palm trees and blue water. "Gemini Croquettes!" The announcer's voice droned, "The perfect meal for a perfect world!"
Daisuke opened his apartment door onto a less than perfect world.
A man stood in the hallway. A kid, really; maybe eighteen. Not to big. But the laser weapon levelled in Daisuke's face was plenty big. And lethal. It was humming dangerously.
"The cash, man!" the kid said.
Daisuke restrained a laugh. Cash? Who ever carried cash?
"Been here long?" Daisuke asked quizzically.
"Long enough" the kid hissed. "The cash- or I'll blow you into tomorrow. The cash!"
"Right. The cash." Daisuke studied the young highwayman's (or was it hallwayman's) weapon. "Say, isn't that a Z140? Alleviated titanium. Neuron-charged assault model?"
The kid, who had 'borrowed' the weapon from his sister's ex-boyfriends' father's next-door neighbour, studied the laser rifle. "Uh…"
"You know," said Daisuke genially, "you could hurt somebody with this thing. Good thing it's not loaded."
The kid looked hurt. "It's not?"
"Nope. You gotta push this little yellow button." Daisuke pointed to a switch in the side of the gun.
The kid pushed the button. "Thanks."
The Z140's hum died.
Daisuke made his move. With his right hand, he sent the kid to the floor of the hallway, while with his left hand; he plucked the gun from the would-be mugger's hand. "You know," Daisuke began, "These things are very illegal."
The kid hit the floor and looked up, dazed.
"You could get in a shitload of trouble. I better hang on to it for you." Daisuke opened a drawer just inside his apartment module; it was filled with similar weapons. He jammed in the Z140 and shut the drawer-
"Excuse me!" - Then stepped over the kid on the floor as his door locked behind him.
"Please enter you license."
Daisuke slid a plastic card through the slot on the dashboard of 'his' taxi. He punched in the stats and codes. The turbines whined. The gyros hummed. "Welcome.on.board.Mr.Motomiya," said a robotic voice.
"How you doing this morning?" Daisuke asked, "Sleep okay?"
He hit a button on the dash, right under the sticker that read 'un unleaded fuel only' and the door to the garage slid open.
The gyros hummed. The turbines whined. The cab slid forward on its mag field; or rather the mag field slid forward, and the cab stayed centred exactly within it. The effect, however, was the same.
"Fuel.level.6.03," said the cab, "Propulsion.2X4."
"I had the worst goddamn nightmare," Daisuke muttered. "And I don't meant the stupid mugger." He could still feel the explosion in his head. After flying a thousand missions with Wallace, he was used to talking during countdown, check-off and take off; even if it meant talking to himself. Or to a stupid taxi chip.
"You.have.five.points.left.on.your.licence," the taxi chip droned. In the old days, when points were penalties, that would have been good. Now, when your points were gone your licence was lifted.
"Thanks for reminding me." Groaned Daisuke.
He hit forward.
The cab slid forward, of the ramp and into the air. The megalopolis that was twenty-sixth century New York came into view. From up here, high above the trash that settled to the ground like autumn leaves, it was breathtakingly beautiful.
"Have.a.nice.day," said the taxi chip.
"Why not?" said Daisuke as he skimmed of between the gleaming towers, looking for his first fare.
End chapter two
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