'It was as if they'd been cauterised at the same time that they had been cut, without a single drop of blood being spilt. A physical impossibility; yet, there's no denying it.'

Vijay didn't react to this news. A thought had begun to form in his mind. His uncle had secured the fort against intrusion. But the security system had been breached. And then there was the puzzle of his uncle's emails. When he considered the details Homi had provided, it seemed that his uncle had shot off the emails around the time of his death; probably just minutes before his murder.

Had his uncle been trying to tell him something? Was there a hidden message in his emails? And how was he to find out?

The Diary of Bruno Beger Greg White sat down on the soft, white oversized sofa. He adjusted his tall and lanky frame on the comfortable sofa and glanced around the room. It was simple but elegantly furnished. He reflected on the flurry of events that had brought him here; to this farmhouse on the Delhi border. Three days ago, he had received a call in his office at Boston University, where he was a professor of archaeology and history. An invitation to visit India had been extended to him, with the condition that he had to leave Boston the very next morning. Under normal circumstances, he would have politely declined such an outrageous offer, but two things had made him agree. First was the prospect of a funded visit to India. His special interest was ancient Indian history, with a focus on the Magadha empire. He couldn't possibly turn down an opportunity like this. The second reason had been provided by his host, in whose farmhouse he now sat. It was a reason that no archaeologist could ignore-an opportunity to research one of the greatest myths of ancient India, dating back to the time of Emperor Asoka the Great. This, more than anything else, had been the trigger for his acquiescence.

A large man entered the room. He was tall, well over six feet in height. Though his hair was grey, he was fit, with just a hint of the softening of muscles with age. White noted the fine cut of his suit and the silk tie and was suddenly aware of his own casual attire.

'Welcome to India!' His host boomed in a deep baritone with a strong British accent. He extended a large hand and shook White's hand with a vice-like grip.

'Er...thank you,' White replied, hesitantly, not sure how to address Indian royalty. For his host was none other than the former Maharaja of Rajvirgarh; a prominent businessman who had taken to politics two decades ago and now commanded significant respect and influence in the government.

The Maharaja noticed White's dilemma. 'I am Bheem Singh,' he offered, 'Please call me Bheem. I don't believe in all the formalities. Though if we meet in public, I'll request you to address me as "Your highness." It won't do for my subjects to know that I am so accessible to anyone.'

White nodded, noting that Bheem Singh had not said his 'former subjects'.

'Thank you for flying down to India at such short notice,' Bheem Singh said, as he picked up a silver bell from the table and shook it, gently.

As if waiting for the cue, a liveried waiter entered bearing a silver teapot and two cups on a silver tray.

Bheem Singh dismissed the waiter with a wave of his hand when he had served the tea, and continued, 'I truly appreciate your acceptance of my offer. We desperately need your expertise on this project.'

White decided to come straight to the point. 'What is the "significant evidence" that your secretary mentioned when we spoke? He said you'd stumbled upon something that conclusively proved that the myth is grounded in reality.'

The Maharaja didn't reply, but reached for the bell again. The waiter reappeared.

'Get me that book,' Bheem Singh pointed to a leather-bound notebook, old and worn, that was lying on a side table, not two feet from him. Its pages were frayed at the edges and the leather was creased and dirty.

White was amused. It seemed to be beneath the Maharaja's dignity to pick up a book from a table. He didn't understand. But then, he had never met a Maharaja before.

'Go ahead, take a look,' Bheem Singh invited him after the waiter left, placing the book on the table before them.

White did as instructed.

'This notebook was acquired by an acquaintance of mine from the family of a former US army officer. He had been a part of the US Counsel for the Prosecution of Axis Criminality at Nuremberg, during the proceedings of the war crimes trials. It was part of a trunk full of Nazi documents that the officer had brought back with him when he returned home from Germany.'

'It's not in English,' White observed. 'It is a diary, written in German. Though there are a few notes in English in a different hand.'

Bheem Singh nodded. 'Yes. We got the entries translated into English.'

'And whose diary is this?'

'Have you heard of Bruno Beger?

'The German anthropologist who was interested in racial research? The one who conducted his research in Tibet, believing that there were clues to the origins of the Aryans in Tibet?'

'The same Beger. This is the diary in which he kept records of that expedition to Tibet. What drew our attention were the entries that described their stay at the Temple of the Tooth, located around 200 miles from Lhasa.'

'Read it out loud,' Bheem Singh said pointing at an entry in the diary.

White cleared his throat and complied. Found a 400-year-old temple called the Temple of the Tooth, 200 miles from Lhasa. Discovered ancient documents from India, in a secret vault one of the monks showed us. Don't think he was allowed to, since the head monk was furious with him. The documents are in Sanskrit, approximately from 500 ad, according to the monk. He says the vault belonged to an ancient, ruined temple upon which the present temple was built. Apparently, the texts are copies of much older documents that were brought to the original temple by a member of some brotherhood in India.

White looked up from the diary. Bheem Singh was studying him closely, searching for a reaction.

'Intriguing, but not really conclusive.' White wasn't yet convinced.

The Maharaja instructed him to continue. He pointed to some writing in a strange script 'That's the reproduction of the verses in Sanskrit.'

White had studied Sanskrit to help him with his archaeological research. As he read, his jaw dropped open with amazement.

'That's right.' This was the reaction his host had been looking for. 'Here, look at this.' He pointed out another entry to White. There were more inscriptions in Sanskrit,longer than the earlier one.

Found a way into the secret vault. Our friendly monk tells us that the texts speak of a secret brotherhood called the Nine Unknown Men, founded around the same time the original documents were written. They also speak of flying vehicles and arrows that wreak great destruction. I have copied the texts. Need to get them translated by Professor Wst. White's eyes were now shining with anticipation and excitement, mixed with wonder.

'So it is true,' White could hardly believe it. 'The legend of the Nine isn't just another myth.' A thought struck him. 'But what is this reference to flying machines and arrows of destruction? That sounds a bit far-fetched.'

'Not at all,' Bheem Singh responded. 'Have you read the Mahabharata? The epic is full of descriptions of flying machines and arrows that could kill thousands of warriors at one stroke and lay waste to entire cities. Have you heard of the Vimana Parva? The lost book of the Mahabharata that was never recorded when the oral tradition gave way to documentation? Few people know of it. It was discovered by an ancestor of mine, quite by accident, 1,500 years ago.'

White shook his head.

'Well, then, I must enlighten you.' Bheem Singh looked at his watch. 'Why don't you join me for dinner, and I can tell you all about it? Just one more thing, Greg. This is a top secret project. We know the legend of the Nine is a true story. But the government doesn't want to go public with the project. I'm trusting you to keep this to yourself. There are people out there, dangerous folks, who would kill to get their hands on the secret of the Nine. Do you know what happened at the Temple of the Tooth?'

White's face showed that he was unaware.

'13 years ago, there was a massacre of the monks at the temple. 21 monks were killed. And the documents, the texts that Beger has written about in this diary, disappeared. Somebody else knows the truth about the Nine. And they've been searching as well.'

White's face showed that he was beginning to realise the dangers associated with the project.

'There's one other person who knows the story is true,' White said slowly. 'I have a friend, Vikram Singh. He lives in a place called Jaungarh, not far from here.'

'Vikram Singh?' The Maharaja frowned. 'The nuclear scientist? How would he have known about the Nine?'

White shrugged. 'He told me about the Nine a few years ago, that he knew the truth about them.'

Bheem Singh wore an expression of concern on his face. 'I had no idea.' He looked at White. 'You don't know, I suppose, that Vikram Singh was murdered just three days ago? They found his body in the fort.'

'Good Lord!' White was aghast. No, I didn't know...I wasn't told...oh my god! Do you think his knowledge of the Nine was the reason he was killed?' He took a deep breath. 'I've got to go to Jaungarh then. He was a good friend.'

'We'll go together,' his host offered.' I had met Vikram a few times though I didn't know him well. We'll drive down tomorrow morning; it's not too far from here.'

White was still recovering from the shock. 'I think I'll go back to my hotel, if you don't mind. I...I need to be alone for a while. Thank you for your offer of dinner, but I hope you understand.'

'Of course,' Bheem Singh sounded sympathetic. 'I'm sorry; I should have been gentler in breaking the news. I just wasn't thinking.'

Through the 15-minute drive to his hotel, White's thoughts revolved around Vikram Singh. He recalled how, a few years ago, he had scoffed at Vikram when he had shared his idea about the Nine and their true purpose, over the centuries. And now, he was dead, murdered.

He reached the hotel and made his way up to his room, as if in a daze. As he approached the room, he gave a start. The door was ajar. Was one of the housekeeping staff inside?

White cautiously pushed the door open and peered inside. The room seemed to be in order. He reprimanded himself; Bheem Singh's words of caution and the news of Vikram's death had psyched him so much that he was imagining things. The housekeeping staff had probably been negligent in locking the door after them. He made a mental note to complain in the morning. For now, he planned on having a large Scotch and a light dinner before turning in early. The jetlag, too, was beginning to take its toll.

He entered the room and shut the door, double-locking it behind him. Flinging his jacket on the bed, he bent down to open the mini bar. A shadow fell across the small refrigerator, but before he could react, something hard hit him at the base of his neck and everything went black.

4.

Day 4 Jaungarh Fort 'Thank you for everything, Homi,' Vijay said gratefully, as he escorted the lawyer to the front door.

Homi nodded to Vijay. 'Let me know if you plan to visit Delhi in the next few days. We can schedule a meeting to complete the paperwork related to your uncle's will. Or, I can always get the papers to the fort. Whatever works better for you.'

Vijay returned to the living room and joined Shukla and Radha. They had offered to stay the night and keep him company.

'Thanks for being here,' he said. 'It would have been difficult to stay alone in the fort tonight.' He looked at his watch. 'I'd better be going. Colin's flight arrives at 5.45 pm. You can ask the butler for dinner. I'll eat when I'm back.'

Exactly two hours later, he was pulling into the parking lot of the T3 terminal at Indira Gandhi International Airport. He found a vacant slot for his uncle's BMW, and made a dash for the arrival hall.

There weren't too many international flights arriving at this time so there was a sparse collection of people who had come to greet the arrivals on the American Airlines flight from Chicago.

Vijay swiftly made his way to the arrival area. He quickly spotted the tall, blonde, young man, carrying a laptop and wheeling a large yellow suitcase, scrutinising the faces of those waiting for the passengers. Vijay shook his head and smiled. Even if he couldn't spot Colin, it would be difficult to miss that bright yellow suitcase!

He had met Colin Baker at MIT and, despite being from two different worlds, they had become close friends. Vijay and Colin had played together in the MIT rugby and football teams and shared a sense of humour which had cemented their friendship. After graduating, they had shunned employment and teamed up to start a technology firm in San Jose, which was now working on developing a technology to convert sunlight into electricity using the thermoelectric effect.

They were similar in many ways; both were tall and broad- shouldered and keen athletes, and spent at least one month in the year together, trekking, cycling and camping out. They shared a sense of adventure that seemed to be at odds with their aptitude for technology and enjoyed any activity that had any kind of risk associated with it. But that was where the similarities ended. Colin had blonde hair, blue eyes and filmstar looks, while Vijay was dark-haired and unconventionally good-looking. Colin was the life of every party while Vijay was more reserved.

'Colin!' Vijay whooped, and the tall, young man turned to look in his direction. A smile immediately spread over his face, the warmth reflected in his eyes.

The two friends embraced warmly.

Colin waved a hand at the people around them. 'I thought India had a large population and expected more people to turn up to welcome me. Is this all you could muster?'

Vijay shook his head in mock exasperation. 'Come on, let's get out of here.'

They made their way to the car park where the BMW was parked.

'Mmm, nice car,' Colin looked it over admiringly. 'The latest 7 series model. Your uncle's?'

Vijay nodded. 'Uncle bought this a few months back.' He paused, before adding, 'He liked cars and could afford a fleet, but never owned more than one at a time. I guess that's because there's space for only one car at the fort.'

'Are we going there straightaway?' Colin enquired 'I'm looking forward to staying in a real Indian fort.'

'You'll like it. Its 500 years old and more peaceful than the city.'

He turned onto the highway that connected Delhi with Jaipur and accelerated.

'Looks like New York,' Colin remarked. 'I mean the tight squeeze out there.'

Vijay grinned. The blaring horns of the tightly packed traffic could be heard even inside the BMW.

After a while, the highway suddenly broadened and traffic slowed.

'Gosh, will you look at that traffic.' Colin gazed out at the sea of cars, buses and trucks that stretched out before them.

'It's the toll plaza,' Vijay grumbled, manoeuvring his way through the densely packed traffic until he could proceed no further. 'There's a second one ahead that's as bad.'

'I have something to tell you,' he said once he managed to work out which queue they were in. Somehow, remarkably, the tsunami of vehicles sorted themselves out into lanes that led to the individual toll gates ahead.

Colin listened intently as Vijay brought him up to date on the events of the last three days. 'Wow!' he breathed, 'It's really sad about your uncle. I hope they find out who did it and why. But I don't understand why your uncle sent you those mails. They don't make sense.'

Vijay frowned. 'I just can't shake off the feeling that uncle was trying to tell me something. Suppose he knew the intruders? Let's say his alarm system warned him that it was being hacked and he realised his life was in danger. What would he do? Perhaps he felt he should leave behind something for me; a message hidden in emails that didn't make sense, so that whoever murdered him and stripped the study wouldn't find what they were looking for. But I don't know where to start figuring this out.'

Suddenly, Colin let out a yell. 'Look out!'

A black Mercedes with tinted black windows rushed out from an adjacent toll gate and overtook them, almost hitting the BMW in the process.

'Bloody idiot!' Vijay, shaken, slowed down the car and watched the Mercedes race away over the flyover. Once on the flyover, Vijay began moving back and forth between lanes to Colin's consternation. 'Slow-moving and fast-moving traffic mingle in India,' he explained to his friend. 'There isn't a concept of a fast lane. Well, in theory there is,' he corrected himself. Grinning, he looked in the rear-view mirror and prepared to change lanes again. His grin changed to a frown as he swung the BMW into the lane on the left. Almost immediately, he overtook the car on his right and swung back into the right lane, accelerating as he executed the manoeuvre.

'What's up?' Colin noticed his expression.

'It's funny, but there's a black Ford Endeavour that seems to be sticking to our tail.' Vijay glanced in the mirror again, and moved two lanes to the left.

Colin glanced back and sat upright. 'You're right. The Endeavour just changed two lanes. It's right behind us now.'

'Okay, I'm going to test him.' Vijay swerved to the furthest lane on the right, eliciting angry honks from the cars whose paths he cut across. The Ford followed suit, equally unconcerned about the indignation of the other drivers.

Vijay couldn't figure out why the Ford was sticking to them, but he was worried. He had heard stories of cars being stopped by goons in Gurgaon and the occupants robbed of their belongings and vehicles. He cut across to the left, heading for the nearby exit.

'He's right behind us,' Colin remarked, looking back.

Vijay swerved the BMW to enter one of the villages that dotted either side of the highway and immediately got swamped by cows, dogs, bicycles, tractors, cars and vans that slowly made their way between shops on either side.

The Ford was faring no better, its bulk slowing it down.

Colin asked, 'D'you know where you are going?'

Vijay shook his head. 'No idea. I just want to get that guy off our tail. Whoever he is, he's bad news.'

He spotted a gap in the traffic and an alley leading off the road they were on. It was narrow but it seemed to be free of vehicles. It was a concrete alley just able to fit two cars abreast. Vijay hoped that they wouldn't come across another car coming from the opposite direction.

'He's turned in behind us,' Colin updated Vijay, who swore under his breath and accelerated.

The BMW came to the end of the alley. Ahead was the main road.

'Left or right?' Vijay wondered aloud.