Both Mr Holmes and I raised our pistols as the broken, cadaverous body of Professor Moriarty, the Napoleon of Crime, The Dark One, shuffled and limped into view from behind the ice column where he had been hiding. 'Journeys end in lovers' meetings,' Moriarty said with false cheer. 'Excellent. Such a perfect reunion could scarce have been expected, even if I had mailed engraved invitations to everyone. We have, of course, Holmes, the busybody, his fat Hindu Sancho Panza – to whom I owe a little something – and,… aah… yes, the Lama Yonten, chief monkey to our brat here… the last Grand Lama of Thibet.'

'Hurree, shoot him if he so much as twitches a finger,' said Sherlock Holmes grimly, raising his revolver and shielding the Grand Lama's body with his own.

'With pleasure, Sir,' said I resolutely, pointing my weapon straight at Moriarty.

Moriarty looked scornfully at us. His altogether unpleasant appearance had definitely taken a turn for the worse since our last encounter at the legation, what with the acquisition of a number or recent weals and burn-marks. 'Do you think it is necessary for me to take those silly gestures and passes any more? You do not believe me. Look!'

A narrow ripple of movement seemed to pass in the air between his eyes and the Stone of Power; and then from the Stone a concentrated wave of some kind of energy shot out and struck our hands. Our weapons disappeared in a flash.

'I assure you, gentlemen,' said Moriarty, with mock civility, 'the very atoms that composed the metals of your primitive weapons have been shredded and scattered to the extremities of the universe. As a demonstration it was perhaps extravagant. You must forgive me this childish display. It is not every day that one discovers the most powerful well-spring of energy in the world.

'Though it was commonly believed that the Great Power Stone of Shambala had been lost or that it had returned to Shambala, I, through lengthy and arduous research, learnt of its continuing existence. In the course of my studies I also discovered that the key to its location lay in the painted scroll that hung in the Grand Lama's chapel in the Jewel Park. In my attempts to acquire the scroll, I was obliged to do away with the Grand Lama – this brat's predecessor – who was unfortunately in the chapel praying, no doubt for the benefit of all pathetic sentient beings. I also had to dispose of that ninny, Gangsar trulku, my erstwhile colleague, who blundered into the scene and made a typically posturing and ineffectual attempt to save the life of his wretched master.

'Unfortunately I was prevented from acquiring the scroll by the Grand Master of the College of Occult Sciences – curse him!- who, taking me unawares, destroyed much of my memory and power. It is fortunate for that puffed-up old dotard that he is dead, for I had much to repay him. But even with part of my mind shattered, a glimmer of my previous quest remained faintly in my memory. After my escape to China and my eventual settlement in England, I was unconsciously drawn to the scientific study of crystals and strange stones – even extraterrestrial ones [40] – which provided me some trivial recreation. Then you, Holmes, restored my powers to me, and I was once again able to embark on my true quest – and accomplish it.'

He hobbled towards the monolith and reaching up, lifted the crystal into his hands.

'Stop! It belongs to Shambala,' cried the Lama Yonten. 'You must not desecrate it with your profane hands.'

'Old Fool!' Moriarty cried harshly, his face distorted with anger and evil anticipation, the veneer of his false civility now beginning to crack. 'For too long have you and your pious kind sat on the greatest force in the universe and just wasted it. Compassion! Enlightenment! Bah! By my own efforts I have discovered the Stone of Power and only I will possess it. And it will be used as it was intended to be used – for power.'

Holding the Stone in both hands Moriarty raised it high above his head, till his entire body was bathed in its myriad flashes of light. It seemed that he was burning in a fierce pyre, but these flames did not consume – they healed, they restored! I could scarce believe my eyes, but there it was. Gradually Moriarty's crooked body straightened till he stood tall and erect. His near cadaverous body filled out with muscle and blood, his shoulders and arms broadened and his sunken chest expanded like a balloon. Wrinkles, scars and blemishes vanished from his face, which now became youthful and comely. But his eyes remained as ever dark and sinister, and his voice harsh and sneering.

'Now, before I subject you to the Stone's awesome powers -though the effect will be somewhat different in your case -perhaps an explanation is in order. It may comfort you to know the precise workings of the force that will collect your final debt to nature. I will try not to be tedious, so bear with me…'

He then embarked upon an extraordinary lecture which was chok-a-block full of very fanciful ideas and wild theories, that he, in a very superior way, considered to be more scientific than the scientific laws formulated by such great thinkers as Mr Dalton or even Mr Newton. Of course it was all bakwas, as we say in Hindustani. I am convinced that his tricks came from a knowledge of jadoo and the power of djinns and demons in his service. There was nothing scientific about it. I mean he even said that light waves were electric and magnetic vibrations, when everyone knows that light is just colours (VIBGYOR) as proved by Mr Newton in his famous prism experiment. Even more crazy was his idea that human thoughts were mere electrical discharges in the brain cells. I mean, how can a scientific man like me even begin to tolerate such ravings. If Moriarty was right then all we had to do for mental inspiration was to stick our finger into one of Signor Galvani's battery piles. Anyhow, I reproduce his entire lunatic lecture for the reader's amusement. That he conducted it in the most condescendingly superior and professorial manner will surprise no one.

'The Power Stone is essentially a crystal,' Moriarty commenced to address us, in a tone one would only be forgiven for adopting towards the village idiot. 'In structure a rhombic dodecahedron to be exact. Though certain elements in its composition are not of this world, its unique properties derive more from its nature as a crystal than anything else. Concerning the knowledge of crystals, our science is yet in its infancy, though the precise geometrical forms of crystals have excited the interests of many thinkers. Are not the five platonic solids, of which Plato had so much to say, just various crystalline forms? And we must not forget the diamond. A mere crystal of carbon, yet the most precious stone on earth.

'The crystal derives its unique quality from the symmetrical lattice structure of its molecules. The tighter the atoms of the lattice are packed together, the more pronounced the qualities of the crystal become and the more enhanced its… aah… special powers. For example, when the formation of carbon molecules is loose, it lacks a lattice structure altogether, and the result is charcoal or soot. With greater pressure, the lattice form is assumed in the formation of the carbon molecules and the result it graphite. When carbon molecules are subjected to tremendous pressure and the lattice structure is packed tight, diamond is formed. But if the molecules and atoms in the lattice form are compacted beyond a certain stage, some crystals develop extraordinary properties. For instance, the crystal of Iceland Spar only permits a certain plane of light to go through it. It may interest you to know, in spite of all the stupid opinions to the contrary, that light waves consist of electrical and magnetic vibrations taking place in all possible planes containing the ray. Thus the crystal of Spar puts the random electric and magnetic vibrations in order as it passes through it. [41] Other crystals, like quartz, also show the ability to order electric vibrations.