and Nirva got two trolleys and we met at our luggage conveyor belt. Our suitcases were all there and in good condition.
We looked around tired but satisfied: we arrived safe and sound in India!
Now we needed to look for a hotel to freshen up and rest properly. The travel agency in Italy suggested the Clark Surya, in Saraswati Marg, in the downtown of the touristic and commercial center Karol Bagh, at almost sixteen kilometers away from the airport. We got out looking for a cab and we found Giuliano and his friend doing the same.
The doctor nodded and came closer, leaving his friend to negotiate with the taxi-drivers. âDo you already know in which hotel you're going to stay?â
âYes,â I answered. âIt was suggested to us a three star hotel downtown, the Clark Surya. Do you know it?â
âGreat choice,â he said. âFor the next part of the journey shall we go together? It's better if we sleep in the same hotel, don't you think?â
âSureâ, Josè agreed.
âSo let's get organized with the cabs,â Giuliano said and made a gesture to his friend, who nodded. Nirvanananda and Max came closer and the doctor explained to them that we were going to call three cabs to be comfy and the vehicles would have driven together.
With Giuliano's help, who seemed to be an expert traveler, the luggage was uploaded carefully and the three taxi-drivers confabulated for a while deciding the road to the hotel, then we all took off together in the reasonable afternoon traffic.
A SECRET MISSION
The traffic increased progressively as we got deeper into the city.
The hotel was very elegant, on an international level. We got three deluxe rooms and immediately the doctor suggested we sent our clothes to the launderette, with next-morning urgent delivery.
After a long hot shower with the hotel's perfumed shower gel, I put on a comfy long shirt and I threw myself on the bed, which was very comfortable. The room had a minibar and a large TV with many cable channels, but my priority was to have at least a couple of hours of good sleep.
It was nine o' clock in the evening and it was already getting dark when Josè called me for dinner. I was still numb from the trip and the jet-lag, but I felt better.
After a quick freshen up, I put on a nice dress and suitable shoes, touched up my make up and went to the ground floor with Josè, where the restaurant was.
In the waiting room Nirva, Maximilian and also Giuliano and his friend, who was introduced to us as Riccardo, were waiting for us. We went to sit down in the restaurant at a table for six and with the doctor's help we ordered a sumptuous meal that largely repaid us from the gastronomic austerity of the flight.
The food was served in serving dishes and the waiters that hung around started to give out individual plates, until Max and Josè stepped in explaining to them that we'd rather do it on our own.
Fifteen types of vegetables stewed in spicy sauce were gobbled up in no time at all, with the help of many different varieties of local breads, some like thin wraps of whole-wheat flour, some like slightly risen baps, and some like fried teacakes.
There also were three types of pureed pulses, various fried appetizers and pots of thick plain yogurt. To drink we choose huge yogurt shakes and we finished our meal with typical Indian tea, boiled with milk and aromatized with spices.
After dinner we went to the hotel lounge to chatter.
Everyone briefly told his story, and then Josè and Maximilian ordered a Mojito and a strawberry Caipiroska. Riccardo and Giuliano asked for two Blue Lagoons, Nirvanananda and I had a Cranberry Crush each, a soft drink with cranberry and orange juice, water, ginger, spices and sugar. We sat around a large short table, covered in black glaze, with a central basis in stainless steel and a column in wormwood.
At midnight the lounge was already desert, but because of the time change no one of us seemed to be very tired.
I found myself thinking more and more of the guy with the mysterious tattoo on the wrist from the plane and at Riccardo's weird behavior. During a moment of silence from the conversation, in which we were picking into the bowl of savories, I showed some guts and hazarded the question.
âOn the plane I noticed a strange thing...â
I looked around: Josè, Nirva and Max were surprised, the doctor and his friend seemed cautious and tense, as if they expected to face a dangerous or rough subject. Riccardo stared at me with an intense look, and then he got into the heart of the matter:
âI think you noticed the tattoo on the wrist of a passenger... and asked to yourself if it had a deeper and important meaning of the single aesthetics.â
âExactly!â I answered, relieved by the idea of not being forced to express such a vague suspect.
Giuliano and Riccardo exchanged a knowing look. I could tell they already talked between them about both me and the little tattoo incident.
âI knew you were watching, Stefania,â the doctor's friend said, âand that you're a discreet and intelligent chick.â
Giuliano smiled. âBefore that Hridaya left, I had a long talk with him and, thereafter, out of curiosity and habit, we followed from a distance you and your adventures... In our job a little paranoia is always good.â
Josè, Nirvanananda and Maximilian seemed confused and I had the impression that I was on the edge of a revelation of huge importance, which would have implied serious risks. Could the doctor and Riccardo have been two secret agents that worked for the government? What about father Sandro?
And why did they seem so willing to reveal their mystery to us now? What was the real catch?
We kept silent for a while, letting the doctor's friend find the best way to tell us what he wanted to say.
âHave you ever heard of the Reptilians?â he asked at point-blank range.
I almost wanted to laugh. But no! ... What kind of story was that? Science-fiction?
Neither Riccardo nor the doctor were laughing, Nirva looked thoughtful and frowned. Josè was uncertain and Max opened his blue eyes wide.
Suddenly I remembered a joke I told Licia about one year earlier in a restaurant... the day I met Josè for the first time often came back to memory, in detail. During that period I was a fan of the TV show Visitors - transmitted in Italy in 1986 and replicated in many occasions. The plot was about a war between the human race and an alien reptile race, and to me it was just a good sci-fi show...
While we were having lunch in the naturist restaurant, Licia opened up to me about the difficulties of her recent marriage and she declared she was contemplating the idea of going back to be single again: she wanted to mutate. So, to defuse the situation, I made fun of her, âin what? A Reptilian?â
In front of Riccardo's serious expression, the best thing that came to mind was âWell, yeah... I've watched the show Visitors on TV...â
Giuliano stepped in. âIt was a good
