the initial enthusiasm would carry it.

Originally the plan was a series of rooms, glassed off, that people could stare into. There was something much better; engineering and I spent 36 hours straight, figuring costs, juggling space and equipment, until the modification didn't look too expensive—juggling is always possible in technical proposals. For the results, the cost was worth it. I hand-carried the proposal in.

Why not take people through the rooms? We could even design a simulated, usable spacesuit. There'd be airlock doors between the rooms for effectiveness, insulation, economy. No children under ten allowed; no adults over 50. They'd go through in groups of 10 or 11.

Sure, I realized this was the most elaborate, most ambitious concession ever planned. The greatest ever attempted in its line, it would cost—both us and the public. But people will pay for value. They'd go for a buck-and-a-half or even two; the lines of those filing past the windows, at 50 cents a crack, would also bring in the dough.

They bought it. Not all—they nixed my idea of creating exact environmental conditions; and I didn't insist, luck and Hollywood being what they are.

From the first, I established a special group to work on one problem. They were dubbed the Gravity Gang, and immediately after, the GG. I hired them for the gravity of the situation, a standard gag that, once uttered, became as trite as the phrase. The Tour's realism would be affected by normal weight sensations.

The team consisted of a female set designer—who'd turn any male head—from the Studio, a garage mechanic with 30 years' experience, an electronics engineer, a science fiction writer, and the prettiest competent secretary available. I found Hazel, discovering with delight she'd had three years of anthropology at UCLA.

As soon as they assembled, I explained their job: find a way to give the illusion of lessened gravity.

Working conditions would be the best possible—why I'd wanted the women pretty—and their time was their own. I found the GG responded by working 10 hours a day and thinking another 14. They were that sort.

I couldn't know the GG was foredoomed to failure by its very collective nature; nor could I know, by its nature, the GG meant the difference between my success and failure.

The opposition put one over; we'd started referring to the job as Tour of 

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