There was nothing.
The hotel stood on the plain and there was nothing else.
No buildings around it. No village. No roads. Nothing.
It stood there, huge and ornate and lonely, like a misplaced wedding cake.
It stood stark against the skyline, for there were no other buildings to blend into it and soften it and it looked like something that someone in a hurry had dumped down and left.
He struck out across the plain toward some trees that he thought must mark a watercourse and he wondered why there were no paths or roads, but suddenly he knew why there were no paths or roads.
He thought about the years he had spent cramming business administration into his brain and remembered the huge book of excerpts from the letters written home from Kimon hinting at big business deals, at responsible positions.
And the thought struck him that there was one thing in common in all of the excerpts in the book - that the deals and positions were always hinted at, that no one had ever told exactly what he did.
Why did they do it? he asked himself. Why did they fool us all?
Although, of course, there might be more to it than he knew. He had been on Kimon for somewhat less than a full day's time. I'll look around, the Grecian blonde had said - I'll look around, we'll find somewhere that you fit.