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in air-coagulating butyl carrier. I want to tangle its legs.”
    â€œI wish you had also brought something to plug its nose.”
    â€œCome along, old gray head,” Joao said.
    Vierho urged the shield closer, bent to peer past the acid fogging.
    The giant chigger danced sideways, turned, darted off to the right along the fountain rim. Abruptly, it whirled, arched a stream of acid at them. The liquid glistened under the searchlights like a high curve of jewels. Vierho barely had time to swerve the shield into the new attack.
    â€œBy the blood of ten thousand saints,” Vierho muttered. “I do not like working in this close to such a thing, Jefe. We are not fighters of bulls.”
    â€œThis is no bull, my brother. It hasn’t the horns.”

    â€œI think I would prefer the horns.”
    â€œWe talk too much,” Martinho said. “Closer, eh?”
    Vierho urged the shield ahead until a bare two meters separated them from the creature on the fountain. “Shoot it,” he hissed.
    â€œWe will get only one shot,” Martinho said. “I must not damage the specimen. The Doctor wishes a whole specimen.”
    And he thought: So do I.
    He swung the rifle toward the creature, but the chigger leaped to the lawn, back to the fountain rim. A scream lifted from the crowd.
    Martinho and Vierho crouched, watching as their prey danced back and forth.
    â€œWhy doesn’t it stand still for just a second?” Martinho asked.
    â€œJefe, if it comes under the shield, we are cooked. Why do you wait? Pick it off.”
    â€œI must be certain of it,” Martinho said.
    He swung the sprayrifle back and forth with the motions of the darting, dancing insect. It dodged away from the line of sight each time, moving farther and farther to the right. Suddenly, it turned, scuttled on around the fountain’s rim to the opposite side. Now the entire water curtain separated them from it, but the searchlights had followed the retreat and they could still see it there.
    Martinho entertained the odd suspicion then that the thing was trying to maneuver them into some special position. He lifted his suit’s face shield, wiped his forehead with his left hand. He was perspiring heavily. It was a hot night, but here by the fountain there was cool mist in the air—and the bitter smell of the acid.
    â€œI think we are in trouble,” Vierho said. “If it keeps the fountain between us, how will we capture it?”

    â€œCome along,” Martinho said. “If it stays across the fountain from us, I’ll order out another team. It cannot dodge two teams.”
    Vierho began maneuvering the shield sideways around the fountain. “I still think we should’ve used the truck,” he said.
    â€œToo big and clumsy,” Martinho said. “Besides, I think the truck might frighten it into attempting a break through the crowd. This way, it may feel it has a chance against us.”
    â€œJefe, I feel that same thing.”
    The giant chigger took this moment to dart toward them, stop and crawl backwards. It kept its nose aimed at the shield and presented a steady target, but too much of the water curtain fell between it and Martinho for a safe shot.
    â€œThe wind is at our backs, Jefe,” Vierho said.
    â€œI know. Let’s hope that thing hasn’t the wit to shoot over our heads. The wind’d drop acid onto our backs.”
    The chigger backed into an area where the fountain’s upper structure shadowed it from the searchlights. It shifted back and forth in the shadow area, a dark wet movement.
    â€œJefe, that thing is not going to stay there for long. I can feel it.”
    â€œHold the shield here a moment,” Martinho said. “I think you’re right. We ought to clear the Plaza. If it took it into its mind to rush the crowd, people would be hurt.”
    â€œYou say a true thing, Jefe.”
    â€œVierho, use the handlight. Try to dazzle its