He had missed the triumph before, sitting in the glade, waiting for the native, after the gig had left him, but now it struck him, a heady, drunken triumph that surged through his body and rose in his throat to choke him.
This was Kimon! He finally was on Kimon! After all the years of study, he finally was here - the fabulous place he'd worked for many years to reach.
A high IQ, they'd said behind their half-raised hands - a high IQ and many years of study, and a stiff examination that not more than one in every thousand passed.
He stood in the alcove, with the sense of hiding there, to give himself a moment in which to regain his breath at the splendor of what had finally come to pass, to gain the moment in would take for the unreasoning triumph to have its way with him and go.
For the triumph was something that must not be allowed to pass. It was something that he must not show. It was a personal thing and as something personal it must be hidden deep.
He might be one of a thousand back on Earth, but here he stood on no more than equal footing with the ones who had come before him. Perhaps not quite on equal footing, for they would know the ropes and he had yet to learn them.
He watched them in the lobby - the lucky and the fabulous ones who had preceded him, the glittering company he had dreamed about during all the weary years - the company that he presently would join, the ones of Earth who were adjudged fit to go to Kimon.
For only the best must go - the best and smartest and the quickest. Earth must put her best foot forward for how otherwise would Earth ever persuade Kimon that she was a sister planet?
At first the people in the lobby had been no more than a crowd, a crowd that shone and twinkled, but with that curious lack of personality which goes with a crowd. But now, as he watched, the crowd dissolved into individuals and he saw them, not as a group, but as the men and women he presently would know.
He did not see the bell captain until the native stood in front of him, and the bell captain, if anything, was taller and more handsome than the man who'd met him in the glade.
"Good evening, sir," the captain said. "Welcome to the Ritz."
Bishop stared. "The Ritz? Oh, yes, I had forgotten. This place is the Ritz."
"We're glad to have you with us," said the captain. "We hope your stay will prove to be a long one."
"Certainly," said Bishop. "That is, I hope so, too."
"We had been notified," the captain said, "that you were arriving, Mr. Bishop. We took the liberty of reserving rooms for you. I trust they will be satisfactory."
"I am sure they will be," Bishop said.
As if anything on Kimon could be unsatisfactory!
"Perhaps you will want to dress," the captain said. "There still is time for dinner."
"Oh, certainly," said Bishop. "Most assuredly I will."
And wished he had not said it.
"We'll send up the bags," the captain said. "No need to register. That is taken care of. If you'll permit me, sir."