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people who made it were technologically advanced, even well beyond our level. Isn’t it intriguing that the exterior of this box is so smooth that we cannot detect its lid?’
    ‘Indeed it is! But then, these people must belong to an era well before our relics of Harappa or Egypt.’ Raghavan scratched his tousled head.
    ‘Well said! This civilization must ante-date them by several thousand years. Somehow, I imagine, all its relics were wiped out and we lost contact with it—except for this container here. Wonder what’s in it.’
    As Arul carefully inspected the walls of the container, Raghavan was reminded of his favourite sleuth in fiction. Sherlock Holmes would have similarly examined the surroundings of a place where a crime had been committed.
    Arul suddenly burst out laughing. As Raghavan looked anxiously, he continued, ‘So much for your demons! These are not of flesh and blood.’ Arul was pointing to the sinister figures inscribed on the cube. This was where Raghavan had wanted to channel their line of inquiry. What were the figures?
    ‘Of course they are mechanical monsters—robots’, Arul seemed quite sure.
    ‘But they look sinister, don’t they?’ Raghavan was not sure how Arul would react to this remark.
    Surprisingly, Arul took it seriously. ‘I agree with you, Raghavan. They do look sinister. But then, we may be influenced by our ideas of what a benign robot should look like. On the other hand, I suspect that the “artist” who drew these figures shared our reaction. Did he dislike them too, I wonder?’
    Emboldened by this sympathetic response, Raghavan advanced his own conjecture.
    ‘One normally does not associate feelings with robots—but somehow these robots don’t appear to be the benevolent kind, do they?
    Arul did not reply. A shiver ran through Raghavan’s body as he matched his ideas with the surroundings. Of necessity, this well had been dug at a site far from human habitation. It had to provide a quiet environment for the experiment. So here they were, in a god-forsaken place, deep underground, and near a box that contained god-knows-what. If those robots decided to come out and attack them, what means did Raghavan and Arul have for retaliation or exit? He looked at the uninviting rope ladder going straight up—thirty metres of hard climb.
    ‘No, I don’t think this container has robots inside, whatever else it may have’, Arul spoke out much to Raghavan’s relief. ‘More likely, this is a time capsule containing records of what that civilization achieved …. Well, enough of this guesswork! We will have to get this thing opened by experts and call in archaeologists to examine what is inside. This would mean contacting Delhi and inviting red tape’, he cursed under his breath.
    As Arul turned to climb the ladder, he discovered a plaque-like object resting against the wall. It was about a metre long and half as wide. It contained inscriptions, red in the middle, black all round. The red letters were large and few, the text in black was long and written in fine characters. The script, of course, was unknown to Arul.
    ‘What is this? Where did you find it, Raghavan?’
    Raghavan was uncomfortable as he replied. ‘I doubt it has any connection with the container. In fact, we discovered it two weeks ago at a depth of five metres or so.’
    ‘Two weeks ago?’ Arul asked, surprised.
    Raghavan cleared his throat. Obviously, we should have reported the matter earlier. By way of explanation he added, ‘Well, you get all sorts of things when you dig. You were abroad when this showed up, so we merely kept it aside till you returned. Of course, I should have informed you earlier.’
    ‘Where was it kept all this time?’ Arul asked.
    ‘Quite safe, in my office, Arul! I had it brought down here so that you could see it along with the container.’
    Arul lifted the plaque, which was metallic but surprisingly light. He thought that its inscription might be similar to that on the