“Very good.” Professor Marsh looked into the screen.

“James Hawkins, registered as a sophomore, is to have access to Suite G.”

“What the hell…” Bert began.

The professor said testily, “You’ll see, you’ll see,” and to the screen, “Suite G.”

“Yes, Professor Marsh.”

Bert gave up, temporarily, at least. He was getting fed to the gills with all this razzle. He bent his knees to accommodate to the acceleration, and then again. And again. He looked at his guide. “What floor is this Suite G. on, anyway?”

“Top.”

Bert pursed his lips. He had already come to understand that the level of the floor on which you have your quarters was a status symbol even superior to what building you were in here in Mid-West University City.

“By the way, what’s the name of this building? Just in case I might want to come home some night?”

“Sarcasm does not become you, Mr. Alshuler. This is the Administration Building.”

A suite on the top floor of the Ad building. He thought they were reserved for gods.

Marsh said, as though just remembering, “This elevator is the one you will always use. The others don’t go as high as your floor. This is semi-restricted.”

Bert was suitably impressed but couldn’t think of anything to say.

The elevator began to decelerate and shortly they emerged into a swank corridor. Bert hissed appreciatively through his teeth, picked up his bags again and followed the leader. Evidently, the door screen on Suite G. was attuned to Professor Marsh. The door swung open at their approach.

Bert followed on through, down a short hall, and put his bags on the living room floor and looked around. One whole wall was glass and looked out over the valley and the mountains beyond in such a manner that none of the other buildings of the ultra-large university could be seen without coming very near to the window and the terrace beyond.