Fallout is, of course, always disastrous--one way or another
"Well, sure," he replied. "You can't afford to look chintzy."
* * *
My appetite was not at its best that evening, and Marjorie recognized that something was concerning me, but she asked no questions, and I only told her about the success of the kite, and the youngsters embarking on a shopping trip for paper, glue and wood splints. There was no use in both of us worrying.
On Friday we all got down to work, and presently had a regular production line under way; stapling the wood splints, then wetting them with a resin solution and shaping them over a mandrel to stiffen, cutting the plastic film around a pattern, assembling and hanging the finished kites from an overhead beam until the cement had set. Pete Cope had located a big roll of red plastic film from somewhere, and it made a wonderful-looking kite. Happily, I didn't know what the film cost until the first kites were sold.
By Wednesday of the following week we had almost three hundred kites finished and packed into flat c
A group of 10 to 12 year olds, all very smart, start a Junior Achievement Club to design and sell things. They do well.
This is an odd story. There was an atomic accident 11 years ago that required moving the town. It isn't clear if the author is suggesting that mutations are your friends, or what. It just seems to be a story about precocious kids.
Two and a half stars.
Not much of a story to this one.