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"So, where do you come from?" asked Vikram after a day or so. "It's not from the Sahara, is it?"
The woman shook her head in the peculiar style typical of India. "No," she said. "I'm a tourist. I come from Mars."
"Mars," said Rao. "Do you mean Mars the planet? Or do you mean a Mars orbital satellite? Or a Mars orbit colony?"
"Mars," repeated the woman.
"And how is it you came to be stranded in the Sahara Desert?" wondered Dorothy. "It's a very long way from home. Though there can't be many places on Earth as much like Mars as the Sahara Desert."
The woman considered the question carefully. "I'm not sure," she replied in her now almost flawless Tamil. "There's a lot I can't recall, but I'm remembering more and more each day."
"Was it something to do with the orange cloud?" Rao suggested.
"Orange cloud?" wondered the woman who seemed genuinely mystified. "What orange cloud?"
"The one that was in the desert when we met you," said Rao.
"I don't know anything about an orange cloud," said the woman.
"Don't harass her," said Dorothy sternly. "It's probably got nothing whatsoever to do with her."
"It just seems a weird coincidence otherwise," said Rao defensively.
"Whatever," Dorothy conceded.
"It was probably just an anomalous meteorological event," said Sandhya.
"Or an Apparition," said Dorothy, who still hadn't shaken off her original opinion.
She smiled at the woman who was standing by a cupboard on which there were many holographic images pictures of religious deities scattered amongst a scattering of words in Sanskrit, the ancient tongue of the Hindu faith.
"You know," said Dorothy with a sympathetic smile. "You've been living with us for four days now and we still don't know your name. What are you called?"
The woman studied the four tourists and the holographic Sanskrit words.
"My name?" she asked.
"Yes," said Vikram. "You must have a name."
"Of course, I do," said the woman for whom this seemed like an almost novel suggestion. "A name." She looked around her with a slightly quizzical expression as if weighing all the possibilities.
"So, what is your name?" asked Sandhya. "We've got to call you something?"
"We can't just keep calling you the 'woman from the desert'," said Rao.
"Vashti," decided the woman at length. "My name is Vashti."
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