“Please, respected sir! You must protect us! The Sakuntala—they have all gone mad, quite mad! Houses have been burnt, businesses looted, families forced to flee for their very lives. Help us!”
Erla blinked in the Deyzara’s direction. “Say what? We haven’t heard anything like that.” Her gaze shifted to her partner. “Have we?”
His attention remained focused on the onrushing Sakuntala. “Not yet.” Reaching up, he tapped his communications pickup with one index finger. “Something’s not right. Not just here, either.”
At the sight of the two armed humans, the six Sakuntala slowed. Those holding the rifles fingered them in a fashion sufficiently familiar to suggest to Nilsson that the natives did indeed know how to use the advanced Commonwealth weapons.
“What’s all this about, now?” Erla demanded to know, holding her ground.
The Sakuntala exchanged glances. They were barely breathing hard. It was clear they had been toying with the Deyzara they had been chasing and, had they wished to do so, could have overtaken them at any time. That in itself was suggestive—though of what, precisely, neither Commonwealth soldier could be sure.
One of the Sakuntala armed with a club stepped forward, holding the weapon out parallel in front of his torso to show that he meant, for the moment, no harm. “We have begun this thing to take back our world. Not involve humans. Not want hurt you.”
“The feeling’s mutual.” Nilsson spoke softly but did not lower his weapon. “So if you’ll just turn around, or go around, we’ll all be content and nobody’ll get hurt.”