Taking his companion’s forearm in a strong six-fingered grip, the other Sakuntala forced the muzzle of the weapon down. “This not about Getouka-via. It not about you or me. I like Deyzara no more than you. But is greater end at stake here.” Both highly mobile ears inclined in the direction of the terrified remnants of the typical Deyzara family. “You remember talkings. Killing offspring the sort of thing that might bring humanx intervention. Better for us that Deyzara offspring walk away and humanx peoples have to feed and house them. Keep humanx authorities busy.” He smiled. “Feeding and housing take more time than dumping in Viisiiviisii. You want vengeance, my friend—or results?”
The other Sakuntala’s initial, archetypal reaction at being grabbed was anger. Then it cooled, and common sense took over. It was a measure of how much the Sakuntala had advanced in the hundreds of years since their initial contact with the Commonwealth.
“My blood says kill them, but my mind says you speak wiseness.” Lowering the pistol, he fumbled in another pouch until he found one of the compact conflag packages. Taking it in his free hand, he broke the seal as he had been instructed and threw the activated handful against the back wall of the gathering room. The incendiary material contained in the package immediately set the wall aflame. It would burn, he knew, even in the rain, drawing the components necessary to sustain combustion from the very material it was consuming. The broodlings began to hoot even louder. The Sakuntala’s ears twitched. It was a revolting sound.