"Not for months," Hobbs answered. "So I heard. Why?"
"Why? It proves that one of you is the man I'm after—Don Callahan. I'm a detective; I came to Venus to find Callahan, and—by accident—I followed him here. It stands to reason that one of you is the man I want."
Sanderson grinned. "Don't you know what the guy looks like?"
"No," Vanning admitted. "I've recognized him before by certain tricks he's got—the way he walks, the way he jerks his head around suddenly. Before he came to Venus, I found out, he went to an anthro-surgeon and got remodeled. A complete new chassis, face and body complete. Even got skin-grafts on his finger-tips. In time the old prints will grow back, but not for months. Meantime, Callahan's pretty well disguised."
"Good Lord!" Hobbs said. "One of us—"
Vanning nodded. "When he came to Venus, he put a disguise over his new, remodeled face. That's gone now, of course. One of you three is Callahan."
Zeeth, the Venusian native, said softly, "I do not think the usual laws hold good here."
Sanderson roared with laughter. "Damn right! You expect to arrest your man and ask the Swamja to imprison him for you?"
Vanning shook his head, smiling crookedly. "Scarcely. I'm getting out of this place sooner or later, and Callahan's going with me. Later, I'll bring back troops and clean out the Swamja. But I'm not forgetting about Callahan."
Hobbs shrugged. "It isn't me."