"I might have the answer to that one," he said. "At least a clue. There's still a lot of work to do before we have the answer. And then we can't be sure."
He sat stiffly in the chair, aware of the eyes upon him.
"I hesitate to say the thing I have in mind," he said.
No one spoke a word.
The clock on the wall ticked the seconds off.
From far outside the open window a locust hummed in the quiet of afternoon.
"I don't think," said Anderson, "that the man is human."
The clock ticked on. The locust shrilled to silence.
Adams finally spoke. "But the fingerprints checked. The eyeprints, too."
"Oh, it's Sutton, all right," Anderson admitted. "There is no doubt of that. Sutton on the outside. Sutton in the flesh. The same body, or at least part of the same body, that left Earth twenty years ago."