Connor looked at him. He said, "From no country. You see, we ran a post-mortem on him, and—"
He stopped. He looked as though he didn't want to say what he was going to say, as though he had to force himself against a whole lifetime's beliefs and thinking, to say this thing.
"He wasn't an Earth man at all. He was from somewhere else. Some other world."
CHAPTER II
Birrel still couldn't take it in.
Two hours had passed, and he sat in Connor's office, listening, arguing, still not believing.
Paley was there, hunched as though half asleep in a chair in the corner. There was another man there, a young man named Garlock, with glittering eyeglasses and teeth and a sharp voice. But Connor did most of the talking.
"I know it's fantastic," he said, for the tenth time. "But it's so."
"But he looks human—," Birrel said, again.