The two Sakuntala were not talking with anyone, including each other, there was nothing in the room to threaten them, and as for prey . . .
There being nowhere to run and no place to hide, she did the only thing she could. It was also the last thing the Sakuntala expected. Rising abruptly from her chair, she extended her arms, lowered her head, and charged straight at the oncoming native. She hit the startled visitor low while he was still trying to take aim with the pistol he had pulled from his pouch. It was brand-new, still gleaming with the pride of its thranx manufacturers.
Though eager to make use of it, the Hata-nau was not entirely familiar with the lethal device. By the time he had succeeded in slipping one of his six fingers around the trigger, he was down on the floor with his would-be victim on top of him, flailing madly at his face. While the Sakuntala were possessed of considerable lean strength, the willowy build that made them so agile in the forest also left them vulnerable to a straight-ahead attack by a stockier opponent. Though she would have been loath to admit it, Matthias weighed more than her prospective assassin.
Before he could throw her off or bring his weapon to bear, half a dozen alerted workers were on top of him. A sizzling sound terminated the shouts of the Hata-nau’s companion. Breathing hard and brushing back hair as she rose, she saw one of the other office workers looming over the body of the other Sakuntala. The pistol she held tightly in her right fist was pointed down at the prostrate native. He lay unmoving, except for the smoke that coiled upward from the hole in his forehead.