Duke Elric - Michael Moorcock [116]
Begg was the first to follow his gaze.
The detective's immediate instinct was to step back. There below them, its blade pointing down into the dancing, obscuring mist, he could see the shape of a gigantic black sword fashioned to resemble a balance, with a cup depending from either arm. Within the metal of the black blade scarlet characters writhed and twisted; the gleaming bejeweled cups moved slowly as they measured the weight of the world's pain. Multicoloured strands of ectoplasm swirled from the bowls. Begg knew instinctively in his soul that once again he did indeed look upon the legendary Cosmic Balance which regulated the entire multiverse, weighing Law and Chaos, good and evil, truth and falsehood, life and death, love and hate, maintaining the equilibrium, and therefore the existence, of all created matter.
Through the great voice of the Balance Klosterheim's cold tones amplified clearly. “If the multiverse has a centre, it is here. I have sought it for many years and across many universes. And you, gentlemen, will have the privilege of seeing it briefly before you die. Indeed,” and now he chuckled to himself, “you will always see it before you die …”
Lapointe interrupted. “You are a dangerous fool, M'sieu Klosterheim, if you believe you can control that symbol of eternal justice. Only God Almighty has the way of altering the scales maintaining the balance between Law and Chaos. What you see is doubtless only one manifestation of the Cosmic Balance. Can you control a symbol?”
“Perhaps not,” answered the sweet, calm voice of Mrs. Persson. She had turned up the collar of her coat. Framed by her helmet of dark hair, her beautiful, pale, oval face shone with the reflected light of the great scale. Her indigo eyes sparkled with excitement. “But one who gives power to the symbol can sometimes control what it controls …”
With an expression of disgust Lapointe turned away. Hitler, Hess, Goering, Rohm and Goebbels had all crowded to the verge of the road to stare down at the great Balance. “All we need now is to set into that hilt the Star of Judea,” said the Nazi colonel.
“Which you will not receive until Saturday, as I understand it,” said Begg, genuinely puzzled. “Tomorrow?”
Hitler became suddenly alert. He turned brown, questioning eyes to Klosterheim.
“I brought you here where time has no end and no beginning, merely to show you why and for what you will die,” declared Klosterheim. “A small offering to the Gods of Chaos who will soon be serving my cause.”
“But what is the chief price you pay for their compliance?” Begg enquired coolly. “The souls of four mortals could hardly be enough.”
“Oh, they are scarcely ordinary mortals. Their crimes have resonated across the entire multiverse. Their souls have far greater weight than yours, Sir Seaton, certainly in that respect. Yet will the Balance accept them? We still await the one who brings us the Star of Judea. The Hindenburg docked an hour ago and now stands ready at Eiffel's great mooring mast.” Klosterheim's cold voice was amused. “With that great and ancient jewel, I make my true offering and in return shall have control of the Balance.”
“How could a mere jewel—any jewel—have value here?” demanded Dr. Sinclair, his eyes half mad with what they had seen.
“The Star of Judea is of immense value to the Lords of Chaos, Taffy,” murmured Begg. “They will hugely reward any being who brings it to them, and it will even seem to give that being control of the Cosmic Balance. Meanwhile …” He noted an opportunity and gestured, drawing the Nazis’ attention away from his friends …
A revolver suddenly jerked upward in LeBec's left hand. Begg had anticipated this and had been deliberately distracting their captors, giving LeBec time to act. The Frenchman's eyes were a mixture of contempt and pain. “You poor, unimaginative brutes could not imagine one of us owning a second weapon.