"You'll have to take us to it."
"Where?"
"Venus. That place you crashed me."
Cheng leaned on the bars—brutal face darkening; scar livid. His voice came out a snarl: "Don't try it, you starbo! Don't try it!"
Ross met the slaver's glare coldly. "What shouldn't I try?"
"That yodor Venus business!" Cheng gripped one of the doorbars with thick fingers. "My pickup crew brought in a gorvide detector. We went over every inch of your carrier; that whole section we traveled. And all we came up with was this!"
Reaching into a pocket, he brought out Ross' doloid identification band and tossed it down on the floor of the cell.
Momentarily, Ross' eyes narrowed a fraction; that was all.
"You take that too good, you zanat!" the slaver observed. "You held too tight on it. So maybe you better start off this party by saying who Stewart Ross is, and how you got your picture on his bracelet."
Ross shook his head, a fraction too swiftly. "I've never seen it before."