"Well now, I hope you don't expect me to believe that. I know who you are, and my patience is at an end. Do you tell me who you are working for, and what you're after, or do I let the tamous loose?"
"I've got nothing to ..." Hanlon began, but the man who had been holding him suddenly interrupted.
"Look, Yandor, at the man's ear!"
"Yes, and his feet," the other pointed downward.
They all stared closely, and Hanlon wondered as he saw their eyes widen. Then, with a start, he remembered kicking off his oversized shoes, and now he noticed that the dye had come off his hands. He guessed with sickening certainty that the long immersion in the salt-water had also loosened the plastic ears and nose, and that at least one of them had fallen off.
"By Zappa," Yandor stepped closer. "One of his ears is very small ..." he reached out quickly and tugged at the other. Loosened at it was, it came off easily in his hand.
"An alien," Yandor exclaimed, and then "your skin—it's not like ours."
"His nose seems false, too," the third man said.
Knowing his imposture was over, Hanlon himself pulled off the plastic overlay and disclosed his nose in its original size and shape.
"Yes, I'm a Terran. What're you going to do about it?"