I.
Fashion model blondes wear mink in midsummer, magazine editors search for stories of snow and ice and old St. Nick, and Santa’s little helpers gather themselves for the annual show of the National Toymen’s Association.
Center lobby spots at the show are prize plums, and sometimes there’s quite a tussle among Santa’s jolly assistants to determine who gets the best spots. Dr. Martin Nagle, new to the trade, was somewhat dazed by the cutthroat techniques practiced among the builders of child-size death-ray guns and miniature furniture for little homemakers. But he had to have the center lobby space. Only in the open, away from the overhanging mezzanine, could he have adequate height for his own display. And so he got it, much to the astonishment of old and experienced hands in the rough and tumble toy business.
He had only one toy, too, a circumstance which further annoyed his neighbors with big lines. It was a simple rocketship which rose from the floor, circled twice near the lobby ceiling, then drifted gently down with ports glowing and fire spitting from the tail jets.
Sam Marvenstein, president of Samar Toys, came across from his company’s booth as the finishing touches were being put on the displays. He took the cigar from his mouth and glanced up as the miniature spaceship made its second turn and began descending.
“Makes a nice display,” said Sam critically, “but it’ll never sell. You can’t expect the merchandiser to put in a big, high-ceilinged display of this kind. A few of the big city places will rig up a set of wires like you got here, sure, but not the little stores, and that’s where you got to count on the big volume sales. And it’s a cinch that kids’ dads aren’t going to be fooled into any elaborate rigging like that.
“Yeah, it looks real pretty up there,” he admitted again. “You can hardly see the wires, even.”
“Maybe that’s because there aren’t any,” said Mart. “The ship rises and descends on its own self-contained power, and is pre-set for steering.”
“No wires, huh —” Sam entered the booth and passed a hand through the space beneath the descending ship. “Worse yet, then. Too bad, too. It could have been an awfully nice piece of merchandise.”
“What’s the matter with it now?” said Mart anxiously. “Why shouldn’t it sell?”