[February 16, 1967] The People's Choice (Star Trek: "Return of the Archons")


by Gideon Marcus

Last minute reprieve

If you're just an average, everyday stf-loving citizen, you've probably been feeling pretty secure about the new show, Star Trek.  After all, it's leaps and bounds better than any other SFnal show on TV (e.g. Voyage to the Bottom of the Aquarium, It's About Time (this show got canceled), Time Sink, Lost in Spoof, The Invasive, etc.) Surely if Irwin Allen can get his shows renewed, Gene Roddenberry can, right?

Well, maybe not.  Late last year, the fanzines and club meetings were abuzz.  Seems Harlan Ellison had sent out a written plea, letterheaded by more than half a dozen Big Names in the SF screenwriting biz (self-importantly dubbed 'The Committee') begging trufans to write their local stations, NBC, Desilu, the Pope, etc. voicing their support of the show.  Otherwise, it might not finish out the season and certainly won't get renewed.

This call was met mostly with enthusiasm, though there were cynics.  Thousands of letters were sent (one over-enthusiastic fan conjectured the number was "around a million").  It now appears that Trek will run another season after this one is done. 

There is something of a preemptive quality about all of this.  Talking to astute newspaper-clippers and folks in the know, I learned that Trek was greenlit for a full season back in October, before the alarm was sounded.  Now, I don't think it's a bad idea to tell the powers-that-be how much you like a show to make sure it stays on longer than the usual crud, but I worry that this may have been a bit of crying wolf.  If the network really does plan to axe this lovely new SF show in the future, will they take us seriously then?  Tune in next winter, I guess.

An Orgy of Destruction

Speaking of last-minute reprieves, this week's Trek episode, "Return of the Archons", was full of 'em. 

Investigating the loss of the starship Archon decades before, the Enterprise visits Beta 3, an uncharted world.  The episode begins quite effectively with a cold open: Lieutenants Sulu and O'Neill, in Western garb, are being chased through a nameless 19th Century-style city, completely unadorned with signs or other decoration.  Before Sulu can be beamed aboard to safety, he is zapped by goons in monk robes.  Once aboard the ship, the vivacious helmsman is reduced to a grinning imbecile, now one with "the body".

In perhaps the greatest disregard for sense I've yet seen on the show, three of the most senior crew transport down to investigate.  There, they find a world of zombie people, placid, without will.  Except that night is "Festival", an uncommon but periodic occurrence when the muzzle is removed and people give in to their urge to lust and rapine.  All of this, the mindlessness and the maelstrom, is the will of "Landru", some sort of omnipotent, telepathic God.


Landru.

Some of the Betans are resistant to being "absorbed" into the body, however.  They do their best to help Kirk and co., though they fail to prevent Dr. McCoy (who the captain jarringly keeps calling "Doc" rather than "Bones" in this episode) from losing his mind to Landru.  It is determined that this status quo has existed for 6,000 years, a reaction to a period of world-threatening savagery.  Landru was a real fellow who set up this completely (except for Festival) peaceful and static society to save the people of Beta 3.

It worked, but only at the cost of the human soul.  And, as Kirk and Spock correctly guess, only a soulless entity could create such an order: in this case, a computer of Landru's construction.  When directly confronted, the computer quickly gives up the ghost, and Beta 3 is left rudderless.  A team of sociologists (the Enterprise conveniently has them on hand) stays behind to provide better guidance than LANDRUVAC.

My colleagues will discuss the various elements of this episode in subsequent sections so I'll keep my comments narrow.  "Return" is quite a good episode, utilizing existing costumes and sets (for other Desilu shows, presumably) to get more bang for the budget (though if the Enterprise had a panoply of outfits they got from Bonanza, you'd think they'd have them for other eras, too – would have been useful when they visited modern day in Tomorrow is Yesterday! There are inconsistencies and some areas underdeveloped due to lack of time, but the show flows pretty well.


If only they'd had access to this wardrobe in earlier episodes…

There are lots of messages one can divine from "Return", notably the "computer-driven society is bad" message we've gotten a few times before.  Going deeper, particularly tying in with Spock's noting that the peace and tranquility of Beta 3 is that of the factory, the machine, I discern an indictment of Communism.  "From each according to their ability, to each according to their need" sounds like a good idea in theory, but it robs humans of their individual dignity, placing power solely at the venal top.  Landru's projected image, with his robes and cult of personality, calls to mind Mao and Confucius, with inflexible dogma and inescapable "justice".

Such a society clearly cannot stand.  I wonder, however, if simply toppling the big boss and (mostly) leaving the wrecked culture to fend for itself, is the best way to ensure a future of democratic enlightenment.

Four stars.  It's solid entertainment for all its stumbles.


Silicon life?


by Abigail Beaman

If something does not feel, only does what it is told, and shows no creativity, is it alive? That’s what this week's episode titled, "Return of the Archons", was about. A computer-run colony of people with a very stagnant culture that seemed to be more destructive than helpful. This episode, despite having some flaws, is probably one of my favorite episodes, not only because Mr. Spock looks very dashing in his cloak, but because it digs into what makes a human being alive.


Dashing Mr. Spock.

Society, by definition, is the aggregate of people living together in a more or less ordered community, and from what we know, Landru has not allowed the Betans’ society to thrive. Instead, he has allowed it to stay in this linear pattern, which is nothing more than the same routine every day. Well, that is except for one day, of course, during the Festival, where it seems you are allowed to do whatever (and whomever) you want, without Landru's instruction. But why is the culture so stagnant? That’s simply because Landru is a machine.


Our first glimpse of "Landru".

Throughout the episode, it is suggested multiple times that Landru is not human by Mr. Spock, and as someone who isn’t fully human, he should know. And by the end of the episode, Mr. Spock is right but also somewhat wrong. Landru was a human many years ago, but now he no longer exists as a living creature but is instead a computer, who may have his knowledge but not Landru’s wisdom. While Landru tried to save his people from the ruins of war, by having a machine input and output peace and tranquility above all, he created a machine that prohibited all human creativity and advancements. To put it simply, these Betans are not thinking for themselves as they have a machine telling them what to do and probably how to feel non-stop. It’s even stated by Mr. Spock, after Kirk causes the Landru machine to self-destruct:


“They have no guidance. Possibly for the first time in their lives.”

Free will is the basis of all of humanity. Without free will, we are nothing more than just robots. We are nothing more than what Landru was, awaiting the next input from a human. If you cannot think for yourself and rely on someone to tell you what to do, are you truly alive? That point was underscored by the confrontation between Landru and Kirk talked: Landru could ordered its men to kill Kirk or simply stop talking, but instead, Landru allowed Kirk to tell it what to do. Landru does not have free will, therefore relies on someone to tell it what to do.

Yes, a programmed society IS a dead society, for it contains no individuals. It can not grow from human mistakes. It will stay the same, because that is what it is programmed to do. It is programmed to give you the same result each time. A human can never give you the same result all the time, no matter what you tell them.

That’s why, to me this episode kept me thinking, even in the slower parts of the episode. And just for that, I give it my good old rating of 4.5 out of 5 stars.

But also for Mr. Spock in a smock.


Everything Old is New Again


by Janice L. Newman

“Return of the Archons” was a fun episode, but one that doesn’t hold together well if you look at it too closely. I had to wonder if the story was written to make use of sets and costumes Desilu had on-hand. If so, they did a decent job, making the transitions from Western Town to what looked like Castle Dungeon fairly convincing. Plus, it was fun to see the crew dressed in period costume even if, as The Traveler noted, this was inconsistent with prior episodes.

Garb and scenery weren’t the only things we’d encountered before. From music, to actors, to the very theme of the story, all of these were recycled from other episodes.

Setting aside the Enterprise crewmember regulars, at least one of the townspeople appeared in a prior episode: the old man Tamar, who dies at the hands of Landru’s enforcers, appeared as the illusory leader of the colonists in The Cage (or as most people will remember it, The Menagerie). Re-using actors is common practice, of course, but it’s always fun when one can identify someone that’s been seen before.


“Aren't you Vina's father?” “Of course not! Vina's parents are dead…I mean…Vina who?”

As for music, Star Trek commonly reuses themes written for the first few episodes of the show. I thought it particularly cleverly done this time, with the driving ‘encounter with the Fesarius’ music from the The Corbomite Maneuver used to back the violent ‘Festival’ scenes juxtaposed effectively against the eerie, wailing piece that begins with a descending half step that was first introduced in The Cage/The Menagerie (though viewers not privileged to see The Cage may have first encountered it in other episodes). Themes from several other episodes were interwoven throughout, but those two in particular stood out to me as interesting choices. I especially liked that the piece from The Cage, which has usually been used to introduce beautiful women who are viewed through a soft-focus lens, was instead used to underline how oddly the people of the planet were behaving.

And then there’s the thematic recycling. While it’s not a one-to-one match, there are definite resonances between Return of the Archons and What Are Little Girls Made Of?, the episode where Kirk encountered (and ultimately destroyed) multiple androids. Doctor Korby, or at least his android version, had envisioned a society where all people were turned into androids like himself. When confronted, he cried, “I'm the same! A direct transfer. All of me, human, rational, and without a flaw.” Contrast this with computer-Landru’s words: “I am Landru. I am he. All that he was, I am. His experience, his knowledge.” Consider, too, that computer-Landru built a ‘rational’ society of people who were little more than robots, fulfilling a similar vision to Korby’s dream.

Reusing and recycling can be good if it’s done with cleverness. Just as a skilled tailor can take an old dress and disguise it as a new one with a few alterations, changing the context can make costumes, sets, actors, music, and even themes feel like new and different choices. It’s a good cost-saving measure and an efficient use of what one already has on hand.

But like a dress that’s been altered too many times, sometimes the seams start to show. There were too many questions left unanswered in Return of the Archons for me to enjoy it as much as I’ve enjoyed other episodes. What exactly was the purpose of “The Festival” and how often did it occur? How wide was Landru’s influence – for example, were the people of “the valley” also under his control? (And if not, why did they not seek to free their neighbors from it?) Why were some people immune to Landru’s influence? Why was it so easy for Kirk to break Landru at the end (another parallel with What Are Little Girls Made Of?), despite the fact that his logic didn’t make much sense?


Dialectic at thirty paces

I can come up with answers to all of these questions, and I’m sure you can as well. Sometimes that’s the fun of shows like these: filling in the holes. But leave too many holes and a garment falls apart. I’m afraid that under closer scrutiny, Return of the Archons does just that, which is why I can only give it three stars.


Computer Dating


by Lorelei Marcus

There are many issues that come from a society run by a computer. Of course, there's the lack of will of its inhabitants, as Abby points out. But beyond that, there are serious logistical concerns. Landru's utmost priority is to "preserve the good of the body" or protect the community he is in charge of. He does this by assimilating every one of his citizens into a state of compliance, and then has them walk around all day greeting each other. "A simpler time" indeed.

Assuming there is no labor in this society, and all the infrastructure is produced and controlled by machines (perhaps using energy to matter food converters like we've seen on the Enterprise), then the biggest logistical issue in Landru's society is the production of more people.

(Note: the beings we see are not actually humans but aliens on their own planet with a coincidentally similar biology to us. Despite this, those from the Enterprise frequently refer to them as humans and rejoice in the destruction of Landru because it makes the society more human. Now who's doing the assimilating?)

I believe Landru's solution to the (need for) population issue is Festival Day, one of the great mysteries of the episode. A time when the young adults of the town (the elderly are excused) riot in the streets, breaking windows, setting fires, and generally committing acts of lust and violence alike. It's a horrific display, and one that contrasts jarringly with the normal tranquility.


Kirk's hotel overlooks the Sunset Strip.

There are two explanations for Festival, one being that, while Landru has an immense capability to pressure human minds into subservience, inevitably there will be some, over time, whose suppressed emotions boil over and cause outbursts (or perhaps even turn them into resisters). The Festival allows them to get these out of their system in a directed fashion.

The second explanation: as far as I can tell, there are no interpersonal relationships in this culture, which would lead to a distinct lack of intimate sexual encounters.This would lead to extinction. So Landru kills two birds with one stone, allowing its people to indulge their baser desires on Festival, and nine months later, producing the next generation for Landru to influence. An elegant solution to an inelegant problem. Something that could only be conceived by a machine.

I personally have no opinion on the rightness of Landru's programmed culture, but I do feel the concept had and has a lot of potential for a science fiction setting. I wish Captain Kirk had taken a little more time to explore and understand his surroundings before deciding that destroying them was the only option. Perhaps this episode will inspire more stories with a similar premise, but more fleshed-out worlds. We can but hope.

Three stars.


When you assume…


by Erica Frank

Sigh. Once again: An entity with godlike abilities controls a society where a veneer of peacefulness hides an underbelly of fear and violence. This time it's a soulless computer, not an "evolved" being—but it still treats humans as playthings. Two clichés for the price of one!

I suppose it's difficult to write about benign beings with godlike powers; if they exist, wouldn't they be out helping people and making the galaxy a better place? How would the Enterprise even encounter them, except in a setting like Shore Leave – "here's our vacation resort; enjoy?" But I am so very tired of the variations on "actually, ESP stands for Evil Supremacy Powers."

Setting aside the hackneyed science fiction elements and focusing on the story itself, I thought Kirk missed his mark, and more than once.

When he spoke to Reger and Marplon, trying to convince them to help him fight Landru, he tells them to set aside their fears and "start acting like men!"…as if they were actually humans who grew up in a human culture. Instead, they are aliens who just look like humans, raised in a culture where, for thousands of years, people who show any resistance have their memories and personalities wiped, and become "of the body"—forever lost to their loved ones.

They don't have a context for bravery. They have no stories of heroes to inspire them. They have a whispered legend: Someday, the "Archons" will return to save us. But they have no plan for assisting. Defiance, for them, is secrets and stealth, not confrontation. Yet Kirk expects them to act like human men from a culture that values heroism.


“Did we say 'resistors'? We meant 'rejoicers!' We love Landru!”

Later, Kirk told Landru that the society he'd built wasn't peaceful, but stagnant, that people need creativity and free will. That's true—but he failed to mention the "Festival" of violence and destruction. Why didn't he mention Tula's injuries, the rubble in the streets, the terror and carnage of the twelve hours of Festival? Those seem like much stronger counterpoints to Landru's claim of a "perfect and tranquil" society.

However, even though I sighed at the mind control, and may have yelled at the screen during Kirk's talk with Landru, I enjoyed most of the episode. The blend of an apparent 19th-century culture with "lawgivers" who look like medieval monks was delightful, and I'm fond of "religious kook" language, even when it's obviously forced. Maybe especially then—I did like Kirk's pretense of being "of the body" near the end of the episode.

Three and a half stars. Fun to watch; even more fun to critique.


A Perfect Society—for Whom?


by Jessica Dickinson Goodman

The "Festival" scenes from "Return of the Archons" reminded me of a piece by Miriam Allen deFord in The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction back in 1956. She was responding to a Saturday Review column by Dr. Robert S. Richardson, where he argued women should absolutely be included on future missions to Mars – as sex toys for the male astronauts. Ms. Allen DeFord deftly picks apart Mr. Richardson's argument, redolent with "subconscious male arrogance," piece by piece, in an article I have laid out in my feminist scrapbook; but it was her successful shredding of his argument that women are emotionally unsuitable for space travel that I thought of most during this week's Star Trek episode.


Women. So emotional.

Ms. Allen deFord writes:

"The notion that women are inherently more emotional and excitable than men is a hoary myth that belongs back in the days of the 18th century 'vapors' and Victorian swoonings. Actually, the convention that induces men to repress every indication of emotion makes neurosis more prevalent among them than among women."


Men. The picture of mental stability.

That see-sawing between repression and violent emotional excitement formed the core of Landru's unbalanced world. But the near-total invisibility of women on Beta Three – with the exception of Tula, the daughter of a saloon-keeper who seems to only have existed to be brutalized during the Festival – was exactly the kind of society that Dr. Richardson had envisioned humanity creating on Mars. One where women's only roles are to be carried off by men, screaming.


Landru takes Beta 3 back to a simpler time: the Neolithic.

I like Ms. Allen deFord's vision better, because it reminds me of the world we are usually treated to on the Enterprise. One which is composed of, as she says: "a bisexual instead of monosexual staff of prioneer observers, investigators, and technicians." It is a future where women are not toys or victims, but living people who sing, study, lead, organize, and live. Where: "Women are not walking sex organs. They are human beings. People, just like men."

Landru's major failure in this episode wasn't just assuming that the best world for his descendents would be one characterized by dull emotional repression, punctuated by scarlet periods of neurotic violence; it was designing a world where women held no meaningful power and were confined to roles which profoundly limited their human potential far below the men in their society.

Here's hoping in the next episode, Lieutenant Uhura gets more than one line and we go back to having fully human women alongside us on our journeys to the stars.


If you squint, you can almost see Uhura in this episode.

Three stars.

PS: I wish some brave soul would collect and republish Ms. Allen deFord's essay and other pieces from her era so more people could enjoy her incisive wit and colorful prose; maybe pair it with some women-centered fiction by Mari Wolf, Alice Eleanor Jones, or Evelyn E. Smith.



Tonight at 8:30 PM (Eastern and Pacific), Hollywood Palace presents Ricardo Montalban and his Amazing Supermen!

Come join us – here's the invitation!



[February 14, 1967] Three Facets of Conan: Conan the Warrior by Robert E. Howard


by Cora Buhlert

Winter in the City and the Park

An aerial view of the Bremen Bürgerpark with the luxurious Park Hotel and the Holler Lake.

It's cold a wet February here in my hometown of Bremen, but the first signs of spring are already visible and audible in the form of the red and white pavilions and the shouts of the barkers of the Bürgerpark tombola.

Bürgerpark Kaffeehaus am Emmasee
The modernist coffee house at the Emma Lake in Bremen's Bürgerpark opened only three years ago, replacing a building which was destroyed in WWII.

The Bürgerpark (citizen's park) is a roughly 200 hectare big park in the heart of Bremen, which celebrates its 100th anniversary this year. The park contains several lakes, a luxury hotel, a restaurant, a coffee house, a theatre, a small zoo as well fountains, bridges, benches, statues and lots of beautiful scenery. Beloved by the people of Bremen, the upkeep of the park is financed almost entirely by donations as well as the Bürgerpark tombola, a charity raffle that has been going on every year since 1953 in the late winter and early spring.

Dromedary Bobby
The dromedary Bobby is one of the most popular inhabitants of the zoo in the Bremen Bürgerpark.
Llamas and Zebra in the Bürgerpark
The llama Chacca and her baby Roland, who was born en route from South America to Bremerhaven, are the newest inhabitants of the Bürgerpark zoo. A longtime inhabitant, the Zebra Timmy, looks on.

Whenever I chance to find myself in the city center at Bürgerpark tombola time, I inevitably buy a few tickets. After all, it's for a good cause and you can win some great prizes such as cars, holiday trips, sports tickets or cruises. Though so far, all I won was a packet of rice.

Bürgerpark tombola
The red and white pavillions of the Bürgerpark tombola on the Our Lady church yard in Bremen. The grand prize is the snazzy car, but all I got was a packet of rice.

More from the Cimmerian Barbarian

But even though I only won an underwhelming prize from the Bürgerpark tombola, I did hit the reading jackpot this month with yet another great collection of Robert E. Howard's Conan stories from the 1930s courtesy of Lancer Books.

Conan the Warrior

After Conan the Adventurer, which I reviewed last month for the Journey, I cracked open the purple edged pages of the follow-up collection Conan the Warrior with a mix of excitement and apprehension. For while I was happy to spend more time with the Cimmerian, I was also worried that this collection would be a let-down, compared to the high quality of the previous installment.

However, I need not have worried, because Conan the Warrior is even better than Conan the Adventurer, collecting one good and two excellent stories.

Red Nails

Weird Tales July 1936
Margaret Brundage's striking cover illustrates a pivotal scene in "Red Nails"

The novella "Red Nails" was serialised in Weird Tales from July to October 1936 and has the distinction of being the last Conan adventure that Robert E. Howard completed before his untimely death in 1936. And what an adventure it is.

Once again, the story opens not with Conan, but with another character, Valeria of the Red Brotherhood, a female pirate and mercenary, who had to go on the run when she killed an officer of the army in which she had enlisted, after he tried to rape her. Now Valeria makes her way through the uncharted jungles of the Hyborian Age equivalent of Africa. Unbeknownst to Valeria, Conan, who served in the same mercenary army, has fallen for Valeria and followed her into the jungle, quietly dispatching any other pursuers.

Weird Tales August 1936
Not Conan or Valeria, but an illustration for Edmond Hamilton's "The Door Into Infinity"

Valeria is a marvellous character, a warrior woman who is Conan's equal in many ways. "Why won't men let me live a man's life?" Valeria laments at one point. "That's obvious," Conan replies with an appreciative look at Valeria's body. Robert E. Howard is usually considered a writer of masculine fiction and Conan is clearly a man's man, but I was pleasantly surprised by the variety and competence of the female characters in these stories. Not every women in these stories is as impressive as Valeria or Yasmina from "The People of the Black Circle", but they are all characters with personalities and lives of their own and every one of them is given a chance to shine.

Weird Tales October 1936
This hellish scene by J. Allen St. John illustrates not "Red Nails", but "Isle of the Undead" by Lloyd Arthur Eshbach

At first, Valeria is not too pleased to see Conan, but this quickly changes when Valeria and Conan find themselves pursued by what they call a dragon, but which twentieth century readers will quickly recognise as a dinosaur who has survived the extinction of its brethren. Now I was not expecting to see Conan and Valeria fighting a dinosaur, but my inner ten-year-old who loved dinosaurs was delighted.

Red Nails Hugh Rankin
Conan and Valerie fight the "dragon", as imagined by Harold S. DeLay

Together, Conan and Valeria manage to kill the dinosaur, but fearing there might be more in the jungle, they flee into the desert, where they spot yet another mysterious and seemingly abandoned city on the horizon. However, Xuchotl, which is not so much a city but a giant enclosed maze, is far from abandoned. Instead, it is home to two rivalling factions who are engaged in a generations long blood feud to the exclusion of all else. The title refers not, as I had initially assumed, to women's fingernails, but to copper nails which are hammered into a column to keep a tally of enemies killed.

Red Nails Harold S. DeLay
Conan and Valeria meet the people of Xuchotl, as imagined by Harold S. DeLay

In spite of their best efforts, Conan and Valeria cannot avoid getting dragged into that feud. But other dangers lurk in Xuchotl as well, including a treacherous king, a vampiric queen with an unsavoury interest in Valeria and a mad sorcerer.

Robert E. Howard clearly enjoyed writing stories about mysterious cities in the desert inhabited by drugged out or otherwise insane inhabitants and monsters both human and supernatural, since no less than five of the seven stories in these collections include a variation on this theme. "Red Nails" is the best of these and it almost seems as if the previous stories were practice runs for this one.

Red Nail Harold S. DeLay
More "Red Nails" interior art, courtesy of Harold S. DeLay

Howard also contrasts the madness and inhumanity of Xuchotl's inhabitants and their endless feud with the warmth and humanity of both Conan and Valeria. There is a wonderful moment where Conan's interrupts the pompous King Olmec's victory speech with a gruff "You'd best see to your wounded." We also see Conan and Valeria taking care of each other and treating each other's injuries. Fantasy fiction rarely pays attention to the physical cost of battle, but the Conan stories repeatedly show that characters, including Conan, can and will be wounded. Robert E. Howard's father was a Texas country doctor, so Howard knew a thing or two about injuries.

Another amazing (and very bloody) adventure with a heroine who's Conan's match in every way. Five stars.

The Jewels of Gwahlur

This novelette appeared in the March 1935 issue of Weird Tales and finds Conan still (or once again) in Africa, climbing the sheer walls of a cliff surrounding the ruined city of Alkmeenon. Inside this city, there rests a legendary treasure of priceless jewels known as the Teeth of Gwahlur.

Weird Tales March 1935
Margaret Brundage's evocative cover for the March 1935 issue of Weird Tales illustrates not "The Jewels of Gwalhur", but "Clutching Hands of Death" by Harold Ward

Conan is eager to get his hands on this treasure and has ingratiated himself with the King of Keshan in order to steal the jewels, which happen to be sacred to the people of Keshan.

However, Conan isn't the only one who's after the jewels. There's also his rival Thutmekri and his accomplice, the fake oracle Muriela. Furthermore, the city of Alkmeenon once again is not nearly as deserted as everybody believes, but is still being stalked by the monstrous servants of its former masters.

Jewels of Gwalhur interior art
Muriela is assaulted by an offensive racial stereotype, while an uncharacteristically blonde Conan intervenes.

So far in this collection, we've seen Conan the mercenary, Conan the warlord and Conan the pirate. This story adds a new dimension to the Cimmerian and gives us Conan the con man, who is literally running a long con to get his hands on the jewels. The city of Alkmeenon, located in the center of what a modern reader will recognise as an extinct volcano, is a very evocative setting. Though unfortunately, the descriptions of the black characters who appear in the story are once again dated and no longer appropriate to the civil rights era. The heroine Muriela is no Valeria either, but closer to the stereotype of the clinging and whimpering damsel.

A fun heist story starring Conan. Four stars.

Beyond the Black River

Weird Tales May 1935
This rather dull Margaret Brundage cover for the May 1935 issue of Weird Tales illustrates "The Death Cry", an adventure of scientific detective Craig Kennedy by Arthur B. Reeve

This novella was originally serialised in the May and June 1935 of Weird Tales and is set on the northern edge of Aquilonia, the Hyborian age equivalent of France and also the kingdom Conan will eventually come to rule. Aquilonia has recently expanded its borders northwards into the wilderness inhabited by the barbarian Picts. The Picts are understandably not happy about this.

Beyond the Black River interior art Hugh Rankin
A giant snake wreaks havoc on a Pictish village that is seemingly inhabited solely by naked women in the interior art by Hugh Rankin for Part I of "Beyond the Black River"

The historical Picts were a people who lived in what is now Scotland during the late Roman era and the early Middle Ages. Little is known about them and so Howard uses a lot of poetic licence to turn his version of the Picts into analogues for American Indians, setting up a frontier conflict. The Picts are very much depicted as offensive stereotypes here, though Howard also wrote several stories chronicling the struggles of a Pictish chieftain named Bran Mak Morn with the Roman Empire, where the Picts are portrayed in far more sympathetic light.

Once again, the novella opens not with Conan, but with a young man named Balthus who has come to Aquilonia's newly opened frontier, lured by promises of cheap and abundant land. However, Balthus quickly encounters the Picts and is saved by none other than Conan, who has come to Fort Tuscelan to serve as a mercenary. Since Conan's homeland Cimmeria borders on Pictish territory (though the Cimmerians and the Picts are ancestral enemies), the Fort's commander puts Conan's wilderness skills and knowledge of the enemy to good use by sending him on scouting missions.

Weird Tales June 1936
Margaret Brundage is back on form with this striking cover for the June 1935 issue of Weird Tales, which illustrates "The Horror in the Studio" by the unjustly forgotten Dorothy Quick.

Conan is convinced that Aquilonia's expansion plans will eventually fail, when the various Pictish tribes rally together to kick out the invaders. After all, that was what the Cimmerians did when Aquilonia attempted to annex their territory. Balthus has heard stories of that legendary battle for the Aquilonian Fort Venarium and asks Conan if he was there. "Yes," Conan says and calmly tells Balthus that he fought on the Cimmerian side as a fifteen-year-old. So Conan fought the very people at the age of fifteen that he will come to rule as a king some twenty-five years later and sees absolutely no contradiction in this.

Conan's prediction proves to be accurate, for the Pictish wizard Zogar Sag has rallied the tribes and is gearing up for an assault on Fort Tuscelan. Conan and a party of scouts, including Balthus, sneak into Pictish territory to take out Zogar Sag. But they are ambushed and only Conan and Balthus survive. However, the attack on Fort Tuscelan has already begun and all Conan and Balthus can do is to warn the Aquilonian settlers, so they can flee before they are slaughtered.

Hugh Rankin Beyond the Black River
Conan fights a demonic creature in Hugh Rankin's interior art for part 2 of "Beyond the Black River"

Of all the Conan stories I've read so far, this one is the bleakest, since it literally ends with everybody except for Conan dead. This includes Balthus who makes a heroic last stand together with a feral dog named Slasher to allow the settlers to escape to safety.

Now I'm very much not a dog person and Slasher, who went feral after the Picts murdered his owner and now takes revenge on the slayers in his own fashion, is very reminiscent of the slobbering and barking menaces that chased after me behind much too low fences when I rode my bicycle to school as a kid. That said, Slasher is a marvellous character in his own right and the mix of total savagery towards the Picts and affection towards Balthus rings so true that I wonder if Howard owned a dog. I'm not someone who cries at movies or books and managed to sit through all of Doctor Zhivago without shedding a single tear. However, the heroic sacrifice of Slasher and Balthus made even me misty-eyed.

"Beyond the Black River" also showcases Howard's versatility, since he plops Conan into what is basically a western. And considering Howard grew up in Texas at a time when the so-called Old West was still within living memory, it seems only natural that he would draw on the frontier era in his fiction.

To someone from West Germany, the Old West is just as exotic as the Hyborian Age. Nonetheless, I connected to this story, because I noticed many parallels between the Cimmerians and later the Picts kicking the Aquilonians out of their respective homelands and my own ancestors, led by the Cherusci chieftain Arminius, kicking the Romans out of Northern Germany in the battle of the Teutoburg Forest in 9 AD.

"Beyond the Black River" also ends with what is probably one of Howard's most famous lines: "Barbarism is the natural state of mankind. Civilization is unnatural; it is a whim of circumstance… And barbarism must always ultimately triumph!"

A bleak and grim story that will stick in your mind for a long time. Five stars.

A Multi-faceted Barbarian

So far, I have read a few of the Conan stories in scattered reprints in magazines and collections as well as two of Lancer's new paperback collections and I'm struck by the variety of settings and themes in the stories that Robert E. Howard wrote about this character. But even though the various stories reveal different aspects of the Cimmerian, Conan always remains recognisably the same character.

Those who have heard of Conan, but have not read the actual stories featuring him, inevitably cite Conan's violence, his physical strength and his womanising as his most notable characteristics. Nor are they wrong, because Conan is clearly a violent man. Those at the receiving end of his sword or his fists usually deserve their fate, but it's also difficult to overlook that Conan outright murders the pirate captain Zaparavo in "Pool of the Black One" to take over his ship and also murders a rival in "Drums of Tombalku" to usurp his position.

A lot of people also think that Conan is stupid, an illiterate Barbarian, big of muscle and small of brain. They could not be more wrong, because the Conan depicted by Robert E. Howard is actually a very intelligent man. He speaks, reads and writes multiple languages. He is a also a brilliant military strategist and tactician and – at least in "The Jewels of Gwalhur" – a clever con man.

As for the womanising, like many men, Conan does think with the dangly bit on occasion. In "Red Nails", Conan literally walks across half a continent in order to go after and protect the woman he has fallen for.

In the seven stories collected in Conan the Adventurer and Conan the Warrior, Conan is without female companionship in two of the stories and with a different woman in the each of the remaining five. And even though most Conan stories end with Conan walking off into the sunset with his current lover, the woman in question is usually nowhere to be seen in the following story. This is a pity, for while some of the female characters in these stories are insipid non-entities like the woman clinging to Conan's leg on Frank Frazetta's cover for Conan the Adventurer, Conan is also paired with some remarkably strong women like Valeria from "Red Nails" or Yasmina from "People of the Black Circle".

But then, Conan is extremely charismatic. He may be a loner and wandering outlaw for much of his career, but Conan never has problems persuading people to follow him. In "Drums of Tombalku", Conan goes from prisoner marked for death to leader of the warriors who have captured him within the space of a few days. And in "Pool of the Black One", Conan steals the crew of the pirate captain Zaparavo from under his nose by gaining their loyalty. Even though those stories haven't been reprinted yet, it's easy to see how Conan will wind up becoming King of Aquilonia, the very country whose warriors he helped to kick out of his native Cimmeria at the age of fifteen.

Though for Conan, loyalty is not a one way street. In fact, the most notable of Conan's traits that appears in story after story is his deep loyalty towards friends, lovers, comrades in arms and people he feels responsible for. In "People of the Black Circle", Conan's main goal throughout the story is freeing the seven of his men who have been captured by the authorities of Vendya. Nor will Conan abandon the people he has adopted, even after they try to kill him. And when one of his friends is killed, as happens in "Drums of Tombalku" and "Beyond the Black River", Conan swears bloody vengeance on the killers.

Closely linked to Conan's deep loyalty towards people he feels responsible for is a trait that is not often brought up in connection with a violent Barbarian warrior, namely his compassion. For these stories demonstrate again and again that Conan deeply cares about people, whether it is his budding friendship with Balthus and Slasher in "Beyond the Black River", his protectiveness towards Valeria in "Red Nails" or Conan freely foregoing the great treasure he has been chasing after for the entire story in order to save a life at the end of "The Jewels of Gwalhur". Indeed, it is when pitted against a merciless and utterly inhuman opponent, whether it's the wizards of Mount Yimsha in "People of the Black Circle", the blood-mad inhabitants of Xuchotl in "Red Nails", the apathetic pleasure seekers of Xuthal in "The Slithering Shadows" or the murderous Pictish warriors and wizards in "Beyond the Black River", that Conan's humanity shines most brightly.

Now that Lancer is reprinting all the stories, you owe it to yourself to get to know the real Conan, this fascinating and multi-faceted character that Robert E. Howard created more than thirty years ago.

Robert E. Howard

Three fabulous tales of the Cimmerian Barbarian. Five stars for the collection.

Valentine's Card





[February 12, 1967] All's Fair in Love and War (March 1967 Fantastic)

by Victoria Silverwolf

Peace on Earth? No. Peace Above Earth? Maybe.

With the conflict in Vietnam growing ever more bloody, and tensions building between the Soviet Union and China, it seems that war is here to stay on this sad little planet. Dare we look to the skies for a way to escape this endless chaos?

Although humanity is just starting to take its first baby steps into the cosmos, some folks are trying to make sure that it will be filled with plowshares instead of swords. Late last month, the United States, the United Kingdom, and the Soviet Union signed the so-called Outer Space Treaty.


President Lyndon Baines Johnson shakes hands with Soviet ambassador Anatoly Dobrynin at the signing ceremony. Barely visible between them are British ambassador Sir Patrick Dean and American ambassador Arthur J. Goldberg. I think that's American Secretary of State Dean Rusk at the podium. Don't ask me who the other folks are.

The agreement is formally known as The Treaty on Principles Governing the Activities of States in the Exploration and Use of Outer Space, including the Moon and Other Celestial Bodies. That's quite a mouthful, but what does it mean?

In brief, it bans nuclear weapons in space; limits use of the Moon and other extraterrestrial bodies to peaceful purposes; and prevents any nation from claiming sovereignty over any region of space or any celestial body. Of course, only three countries have signed it so far, and any treaty is only a piece of paper, so we'll have to wait to see what really happens outside the atmosphere. Hope for the best.

Monkeying Around With My Heart

Let's turn our backs on war and look for romance. Love songs are always popular, and the current Number One hit in the USA is no exception. The upbeat number I'm a Believer by the Monkees has been at the top of the charts since early January, and shows no signs of fading away.


And all this time I thought they were just a fictional band created for a television situation comedy.

Tales of Mars and Venus

The latest issue of Fantastic is full of stories involving wars, both large and small, as well as amorous relationships between women and men. Sometimes both themes show up in the same yarn.


Cover art by Robert Fuqua.

This issue, unsurprisingly, features one new story and a bunch of reprints. The cover illustration is also from an old magazine.


The May 1939 issue of Fantastic Adventures, to be exact.

Happiness Squad, by Charles W. Runyon


Illustrations by Gray Morrow.

A personal war meets love gone very bad in the opening of the only original story in the magazine. A man places a timebomb in his wife's flying car, so it will explode during her flight to visit her mother. After this stark beginning, we learn something about this future world, and the man's place in it.

In the tradition of Aldous Huxley's famous novel Brave New World, this is a society bent on eliminating unhappiness through the use of drugs. It has also nearly wiped out the ability of human beings to perform acts of violence on each other, in a way reminiscent of the Anthony Burgess novel A Clockwork Orange.

In addition to that, it also manipulates memories, in such a way that it can give people completely new identities. The uxoricidal protagonist accidentally discovers that he was once a brilliant plastic surgeon, who transformed an unattractive woman into a raving beauty. The woman, with the help of the man's rival, then altered his memory so that he imagines himself to be her loving husband.

Because of his programmed aversion to violence, the man sabotages all his attempts to kill the woman he blames for ruining his life. (Besides everything else, he also lost the woman he really loves, who had her memory altered in such a way that she now works in a brothel.) Unable to perform the murder himself, he hires one of the very few people who avoided the programming to do the dirty work. (This fellow was one of the rare folks born on Mars who survived a failed colony and escaped to Earth.)


The killer, the victim, and the man who hired him.

There's a twist ending that changes everything we thought we knew. Without giving too much away, I interpret the conclusion as implying yet another reversal, which the author leaves unwritten. I may be reading too much into this, but what remains unsaid is just as powerful as what is made explicit, I believe.

I have a hard time giving a fair rating to this very disturbing story. It's not exactly pleasant to read, but it held my attention from the beginning to the (incomplete?) end. It's nearly impossible to sympathize with any of the characters, even if they're not really responsible for the kind of people they've been manipulated into becoming. The subtle implications of the conclusion may just be in my imagination. In short, I think I like this story more than I should, if that makes any sense at all.

Four stars.

Shifting Seas, by Stanley G. Weinbaum

The April 1937 issue of Amazing Stories supplies this apocalyptic work from the pen of a pioneering author who died much too young.


Cover art by Leo Morey.

Gigantic volcanic explosions and earthquakes rip apart the isthmus of Central America, driving most of the land under the sea. Besides the immediate deaths of millions, this changes the flow of the Gulf Stream, so that much of Europe becomes much colder. The crisis alters political alliances. In particular, war between the United States and a desperate Europe, led by the sea power of the United Kingdom, seems imminent.


Illustration also by Leo Morey.

Besides war, we also have love. The protagonist is an American man engaged to a British woman. The impending conflict threatens to destroy their relationship, until the man comes up with a way to solve the problem without a clash of arms.

The premise is an interesting one, and I liked the way the author considered the political implications of a major change in world climate. The resolution may be a little too simple, and the narrative style a bit old-fashioned, but the story creates a decent sense of wonder.

Three stars.

Judson's Annihilator, by John Beynon

An author now better known as John Wyndham supplies this war story, which first appeared in a British publication under the title Beyond the Screen.


Cover art by Serge Drigin. This issue, number one of only three ever published, is dated 1938, without specifying the month.

It was quickly reprinted in the October 1939 issue of Amazing Stories.


Cover art by Robert Fuqua.

In true Astounding/Analog style, a lone genius invents gizmos producing fields that make anything inside them disappear. When combined German and Italian forces send a huge number of planes to attack England, the devices cause the aircraft to vanish.


Illustration also by Robert Fuqua.

The inventor's sister falls into the field produced by one of the machines and disappears. The hero, in love with her, follows her into it. As the reader suspects by this point, the invention doesn't really destroy what passes through the field, but sends it somewhere else. The place turns out to be an England inhabited by a small number of people living in a primitive way. With the help of a local woman, the hero and his beloved escape from the clutches of the Germans who went through the field.

There's a nice little twist about where they've wound up that is mentioned in passing, but nothing much comes of it. The plot is pretty straightforward once the hero enters the field. I found the imaginary version of World War Two the most interesting part of the story. Other than that, it's a pretty typical science fiction adventure.

Three stars.

Battle in the Dawn, by Manly Wade Wellman

From the January 1939 issue of Amazing Stories comes this vision of the remote past.


Cover art by Robert Fuqua again.

Apparently, this is the first of a series of stories about a caveman named Hok. In this tale, his tribe is moving to better hunting grounds when they run into Neanderthals. Contrary to what modern anthropologists think, these are bestial creatures, who attack the group of Homo sapiens and even kill a baby and eat it. Obviously, a war between the two species begins.


Illustrations also by the ubiquitous Robert Fuqua.

After an initial triumph over the subhumans, Hok steals a woman from a rival tribe of Homo Sapiens, in order to make her his mate. She objects, going so far as to threaten to kill herself if he doesn't let her go. Eventually, the first kiss in history makes the woman fall in love with her captor, and the two tribes unite against the Neanderthals.


Not to mention other challenges.

With nearly three decades of hindsight, it's easy to dismiss this story as a very inaccurate portrait of prehistory. It might better be thought of as a sword-and-sorcery yarn, without swords and without sorcery. The Neanderthals are monsters, the hero is a brave warrior with a beautiful woman to win, and so forth. As such, it's a fair example of the form.

Three stars.

The Draw, by Jerome Bixby

The March 1954 issue of Amazing Stories supplies this tale of the Old West, where war often consisted of one man against another.


Cover art by Clarence Doore.

You may have already seen it in a paperback collection of the author's stories that came out a few years ago.


Cover art by Ralph Brillhart.

An onery teenager — we'd call him a juvenile delinquent these days — is an excellent marksman, but not good at all when it comes to pulling his pistol from his holster. This is the only factor that keeps him from becoming an infamous killer.


Illustrations by William Ashman.

Through sheer force of will, he develops the telekinetic ability to instantaneously transport his gun to his hand, making him the deadliest gunman around. After terrorizing the local townsfolk, he challenges the sheriff to a gunfight. As you'd expect, things don't go well for him.


A scene from Gunsmoke?

I don't have a lot to say about this story. The ending is somewhat anticlimactic, but there's nothing particularly wrong with it. The usual Western clichés are present, which may be inevitable.

Three stars.

Masters of Fantasy: A. Merritt Illustrated, by Anonymous

The magazine ends with a few drawings by Frank R. Paul that accompanied a reprint of Abraham Merritt's 1919 fantasy novel The Moon Pool, which was serialized in Amazing Stories in the May, June, and July 1927 issues.


I guess this is the Moon Pool.


All cover art by Frank R. Paul as well.


I didn't notice the frog people at first.


I'm guessing this is a scene from The Moon Pool.


Is she doing the Twist?


Caution! Mad Scientist at Work!

What can I say? Three stars.

Fighting for Something to Love

In this magazine full of love and war, the stories were fair. Not that great, not that bad. I predict that Runyon's new novelette is going to produce strong reactions, both positive and negative. The reprints are likely to be less controversial.

As for the choice between the two great themes I've noted, it seems like an easy one.


Somebody came up with this catchy slogan a couple of years ago, and now you can get it on a poster.



 



[February 10, 1967] Match made in Heaven (1966 NFL Season Overview)


by Marie Vibbert

It’s an active time for the National Football League, and the 1966 season that culminated this January will be remembered as one of the most exciting. Football continues to evolve and change. Last year, the NFL split the Eastern and Western conferences into two divisions each, and added a new official, the Line Judge, brought on specifically by Minnesota Vikings quarterback Fran “the scrambler” Tarkenton: he was so fond of running all over the backfield to avoid sacks that another official was needed to make sure he didn’t cross the line of scrimmage before throwing the ball.

Another change was adding a new team, bringing the number of teams in the NFL to 15. Now, the even numbers we’ve enjoyed for scheduling have been disrupted. The odd team out is the newly-added Atlanta Falcons in the Eastern Conference with my (Cleveland) Browns. There are plans to add a second team soon, possibly in Philadelphia or Miami. It’s said that Atlanta was added a year early, instead of joining next year with a partner, so that the NFL's rival, the American Football League (AFL) wouldn’t get them. To handle the odd number of teams, every team had a bye week, playing 14 games over 15 weeks.

The season started with controversy for my Browns. We were all justifiably proud that Jim Brown was going to star in a major Hollywood movie, The Dirty Dozen, filming during the off-season, but when production delays meant he would miss the start of training camp, team owner Art Modell threatened a hefty fine. Jim Brown responded by simply retiring from the game, rather than pay the owner. Jim Brown is still in his prime, and was the lead rusher in the league last season. The hole he left may never be filled, and I hope Mr. Modell doesn’t cross the street when I’m driving by. Let’s not forget this is also the man whose feud with Paul Brown cost us the best coach in football back in ‘63.


The Cleveland Browns on the cover of LIFE!

This was the first time since 1963 that my Browns didn’t make the playoffs, despite an offense that regularly racked up points and finished the season 9-5. (Tied with the Eagles in second place and with a better conference record…they also had a tied record and better conference percentage than the second place team in the Western Conference, the Baltimore Colts. HOW do they determine playoff positions again?! I’m writing a letter to the commissioner.) The Browns scored a hefty average of 28.8 points per game. If only their defense had been as strong. It’s so odd not having the Browns in the postseason. Is this what other team’s fans feel like?

The Western Conference did have an unusual season, with the unbeaten Cardinals playing the unbeaten Cowboys in week six to a 10-10 tie! It looked like the division would never be decided, but in week seven, both teams suffered their first losses–Dallas losing of course to the Browns.

In the Eastern Conference, the Packers have been unquestionably dominant, defending their league title. They finished 12-2, losing only to San Francisco and their arch-rivals, Minnesota. It’s hard to believe this is the team that had the worst record in the league in 1958 before Vince Lombardi turned them around. Who doesn’t love a rags-to-riches story? While Lombardi has stepped down, his picks are still beefing up the team, like Safety Willie Wood, a college quarterback no one wanted until Lombardi saw his true talents and put him to work.

I like the Packers, even if they defeated the Browns in last year’s Championship in Green Bay. I know the Browns will return to the title game soon, they have so rarely been out of it.

And speaking of the title game…

It’s hard to talk about the NFL this year without also talking about the AFL. The upstart league has done what previous challengers could not: it has won television contracts and it bid for top free-agents and draft picks against NFL teams. Quarterback Joe Namath was selected by the NFL’s St. Louis Cardinals, but chose a sweeter deal with the AFL's New York Jets, and showed great promise in his rookie season in 1965. The winless Jets became the winning Jets when they started Namath from their seventh game on, and they have not looked back. He’s getting better every season.

(The AFL of course claims that the NFL fired the first shot in this war by signing placekicker Pete Gogolak to the New York Giants when he had already been contracted to the AFL’s Buffalo Bills.)

Everyone wondered what the NFL would do to defeat their new, popular rival. Much to the surprise of everyone, they opted for a friendly agreement. The AFL and NFL have signed peace accords, agreeing to a common draft to end the bidding wars, and promising to merge together no later than 1970. Until then, they would play one game a year together while maintaining separate schedules.


NFL Commissioner Pete Rozelle, who oversaw the league unification

For the first time, the NFL would pit their champion against the champion of another league, a championship of championships some are calling “The Super Bowl.” Given how unusual this was, logistics proved challenging and a location and date were not announced until December! Still, the world was ready to watch whenever it landed, with NBC televising for the AFL and CBS for the NFL, simulcast on both coasts!

The AFL-NFL World Championship was played January 8th in the beautiful Los Angeles Memorial Coliseum, ensuring that neither league could complain of home field advantage. Kansas City would use the AFL’s longer, narrower ball, and Green Bay the NFL standard. The AFL’s two-point conversion rule would not be used.

While many felt that no team from the younger and less experienced league could be a match, the Chiefs came into this game with a lot to brag about. Their 11-1-1 record was just a tie behind Green Bay’s. Their high-powered offense stomped over other teams with a trio of talented running backs, Mike Garrett, Bert Coan, and Curtis McClinton, each running over 500 yards for a combined 2,274 rushing yards on the season. Quarterback Len Dawson threw for 26 touchdowns and 2,527 yards of his own through the air. On the other side of the ball, their defense was packed with all-league players, including a secondary that racked up interceptions like they had been attending the other team’s throwing practices. The two safeties split 10 interceptions between them and defensive back Fred Williamson had four to himself. In their final game, they trounced the Buffalo Bills, a team I personally thought would put up more of a fight, 31-7. If any team in the AFL could put the nay-sayers to rest, it would be the Chiefs.

As the game started, it looked like that was exactly what they would do.

But first a note of special interest to Galactic Journeys readers: The opening of the Super Bowl was science fiction themed, with two adventurous souls in rocket packs flying around the field to meet in the middle. What a spectacle!


And the Jets aren't even playing…

The game started with back-to-back punts by both teams, then the Packers had a fantastic drive to come up 7-0. The Chiefs answered with a drive to the 33, but they couldn’t kick it in. However, they came back strong in the second quarter with a 6-play, 66-yard drive that tied the game.

At halftime, the score was 14-10 Green Bay, but it still felt like anyone’s game.

But then at the start of the third quarter, on a third-down play the Packers defense came alive and forced the Chiefs quarterback to throw a wobbly, weak ball that was intercepted and run back for 50 yards. From this point, the Packers defensive line had Quarterback Dawson’s number. Kansas City only managed 12 yards of offense in the entire third quarter. Green Bay buried Dawson on two consecutive sacks, so the team was forced to punt on their own 2 yard line.


Modern-day Blitz

Kansas City bravely fought on, but never scored again in the competition. The final score was Green Bay 35, Kansas City 10, and no one could deny that it was the interception by Willie Wood that broke the AFL’s back.

It seemed a fulfillment of what many predicted, that while it has been more successful than previous competing leagues, the AFL is not playing at the level of the NFL. Will the AFL survive this clear and public humiliation, broadcast live on two major networks? Or will they quietly die off like other competing leagues of the past, leaving their best teams to be scavenged by the NFL well before their dreams of league-marriage?

Stay tuned for "Superbowl" II!



 



[February 8, 1967] Hung Jury (Star Trek: "Court Martial")

Better Than Perry Mason


by Jessica Dickinson Goodman

In Court Martial, we see Star Trek trying on a new genre: courtroom drama. Like a good Perry Mason episode, we have twists, turns, dramatic monologues on the subject of rights, stodgy courtroom pedantry, and a wicked villain who gets his comeuppance before the hour is up.

But it being Star Trek, it added some important layers to the genre. Our Perry Mason – a stolid Luddite named Samuel T. Cogley (Elisha Cook Jr.) – is less dapper and more dogged in his defense of Captain Kirk. Unlike any Perry Mason I can remember, the prosecutor is a woman (Joan Marshall as Areel Shaw), and the four judge panel is played by actors who can trace their family trees to nearly every continent on Earth, including Commodore Stone (played by the excellent Percy Rodriguez), Starship Captain Chandra (Reginald Lal Singh), Starship Captain Krasnovsky (Bart Conrad), and Space Command Representative Lindstrom (William Meader).


A nice cross-section of ethnicity, if not gender

Percy Rodriguez was born in Montreal and is of Afro-Portuguese descent (that gets us three continents right there). Reginald Lal Singh was born to Indian parents in what was then the mainland of the British West Indies and is, as of May 26, 1966 the independent state of Guyana (which gets us two more continents, plus a second count in Europe’s column for the British passport). Then add in the unnamed Ensign who appeared to be of East Asian descent, and we don’t even need to count real-life U.S. Army Colonel Bart Conrad, who as it happens, also worked in several episodes of Perry Mason.

I don’t list these actor’s family histories to distract from their professional credits, but to note that Star Trek manages to reflect our world in ways that many theoretically more realistic shows do not. Afterall, we are a country which first elected Dalip Singh Saund to the U.S. Congress in 1955, and seven years later, appointed Thurgood Marshall to the Second Circuit Federal Court of Appeals, the brave lawyer who argued Brown v. Board of Education before the still all white, all male U.S. Supreme Court. (Perhaps 1967 will be the year at least one of those descriptors changes).


The Supreme Court, in 1962

Today, there are dozens of Black judges serving on the federal, state, and municipal bench – including Vince Townsend, a municipal judge in Los Angeles County who played a judge in the 1963 Perry Mason episode “The Case of the Skeleton's Closet” (and, because the world is tiny, I have heard that Judge Vince Townsend used to be roommates with Judge Thurgood Marshall). So why do we need to look hundreds of years into the future to see judges and captains and prosecutors who reflect our real world?


Perry Mason, in the courtroom

As interesting as the casting was for this episode, the plot itself also held my attention. First, we think we’re about to follow a routine investigation into the tragic death of a crewman. Then his daughter appears, wild with grief and accusatory in speech. Things begin to shift for Captain Kirk, his colleagues turning their shoulders at him, an old flame warning him of impending disgrace, and a trial which forces his nearest and dearest officers to testify fairly damningly against him.

But then in hops our very own Perry Mason, with clever words about rights and the flaws of technology. Cogley convinces the judges to return to the Enterprise where my very favorite moment of the episode happens: a luscious soundscape of heartbeats that is slowly narrowed down to a single, unknown body, stowed away belowdecks.

Well, second favorite; as I am sure Erica will concur, watching Captain Kirk roll around on the floor and tear his shirt on the carpet isn’t a bad use of screen time either (another common Star Trek cliché that Perry Mason never included).


Two absolutely convincing stunt doubles fighting in Engineering

The episode lost most of its tension at this point, as we waited for an increasingly barechested Captain Kirk to corral the previously-thought-dead Lieutenant Commander Finney and stop him from crashing the Enterprise into the planet’s surface.

The little twist at the end, where we discover Cogley has now agreed to represent Lieutenant Commander Finney, was a nice touch.

This episode gave meaty, well-developed roles to Areel Shaw and Percy Rodriguez, giving them space to explore courtroom theatrics and protocols in roles many drama’s casting directors would have given only to white men. Though parts of this episode flagged, that delightful choice carried it through for me.

Rating: 4 Stars.


Wrong Way Street


by Abigail Beaman

While I know a majority of my peers rated this episode highly, I was let down by the ending of the episode. I feel that Trek has worked best when it left me with some warning or moral, and to have it just devolve to fisticuffs and Kirk half naked at the end just seemed to disappoint. And believe me, I like when the cast gets half naked.

Perhaps I was just expecting a different story. "Court Martial" opens up with what we believe will be a man versus machine parable, with Kirk versus the computer of the Enterprise. Instead we end up with man versus man: Kirk versus Finney. I feel like if Marc Daniels had followed through with the theme "don’t trust machines on everything", I would have happily rated this episode above a four.


Computers–who needs 'em?

My biggest issue is with Finney being alive. It raises many unanswered questions. What was Finney’s plan after Kirk got indicted? How did Finney manage to change the computer without being spotted? How did Finney even get out of the pod before it was sent off? How did messing with the data stored in the computer also mess up Spock’s chess programming?

In the end, I was just disappointed and annoyed. While the story started off strong, it ended up crashing in the climax, leaving a sour taste in my mouth. That’s why I rate it 2.5 stars.


Our Perception: what can and can’t we trust?


by Andrea Castaneda

I agree with my colleague, Abby, though perhaps the premise saves this episode a little more for me. “Court Martial” was, to me, one of the more intriguing episodes in the show of the series. We’re presented with high emotional stakes, see a more vulnerable side to Captain Kirk, and take a deeper look into how StarFleet operates. But what I liked most about this episode was how it analyzes man’s perception in contrast to the cold hard evidence of the machine.

The courtroom scene reminded me a lot of Sidney Lumet’s “Twelve Angry Men”. In that film, eleven men of a jury believe a man guilty of murder, but one juror still wants to discuss how there can be doubt. The film goes on to dissect how one’s perception can be warped by emotion, physical limitations, personal beliefs, etc. In the end, they conclude the provided evidence is insufficient, and the defendant is spared from the electric chair.


Twelve Angry Men, perhaps the seminal courtroom drama of the last decade.

This episode shared similar themes. Kirk starts out unwavering in his confidence. But when presented with seemingly damning evidence, he’s shaken. With a defeated tone, he says to himself “but that’s not the way it happened.”

But unlike “Twelve Angry Men”, Spock subverts the idea that man’s memory is inherently flawed. When the prosecution asks him how he could know Kirk did the right thing if he didn’t see him, he states that one doesn’t need to observe him at all times to know he did. Just as one doesn’t need to see a dropped hammer fall to know it has in fact fallen. And while he does concede that this is– at the end of the day– his opinion, his confidence in Kirk is what prompts him to prove the computer is wrong. And of course, he tests the system via chess.

Where the episode missed an opportunity, however, was how they chose to end it. I was hoping that once Spock proved the computer was faulty, it would lead the court to reevaluate the evidence and/or rule that the man’s death was due to a programming glitch. But instead, it’s revealed that the dead man was alive the whole time, and that this was all part of a half-baked revenge plot. He and Kirk wrestle while the Enterprise is set to crash, but Kirk once again saves the day. And with that, what started out as a sober courtroom drama winds up as a James Bond movie.

Ridiculous as that ending was, I still thoroughly enjoyed the mental analysis of the strengths and weaknesses of one’s perception. It gives me as a viewer something to think about once the episode ends. Unfortunately, the conclusion of events– including Kirk’s unprofessional kiss with the prosecution lawyer– compels me to declare “Court Martial” a mistrial.

Three stars.


Lies, Damned Lies, and Statistics


by Lorelei Marcus

"Court Martial" is the second trial-centered episode we've seen on Star Trek, though unlike "The Menagerie" (and many other episodes) there are no God-like aliens or other fantastical features. Which is why "Court Martial" is one of my favorite episodes: because of its focus on technology and its ability to straddle the line between implausibility and familiarity.

The source of conflict in this episode is the malfunction of the ship's "computer". The show portrays this computer as a piece of machinery so complex it can recognize verbal commands, act as an archive of all human knowledge, and even play chess! Yet it's so small that it can fit into a panel console [I think those are just the teletype terminals. Cogley's law computer seems self-contained, though. (Ed.)] This is far more advanced than anything we have today, or anything that could conceivably be developed in the next 50 years.


"Computers. I know all about them."

However, the audience is not totally disconnected from this incomprehensible device because the computer represents more than itself. When Kirk first meets his defense lawyer, he is startled by the lawyer's reliance on paper books over computer banks. In the Star Trek future, physical books are an antiquated and nearly extinct form of information storage. While this is a rather extreme (and grim) prediction, the situation does reflect a trend toward a reliance on technology over physical media happening in our society today.

Rather than read the paper or a novel, we increasingly watch the news or a Western on television. We've long since switched computation work at NASA from "computers" (actual human beings doing calculations) to IBM's metal monsters. It isn't a stretch to see a future where the development of computers alters the very way society operates and exists, eschewing personal bonds of trust and the evidence of the human eye. Someday, we may even leave justice to the computers themselves – after all, they cannot lie, can they?

Except, of course, they can. Because people can, and computers are still, even in the far future, servants of people. That, I think, was the point of the episode, and a good one.

Four stars.


The measure of a man


by Tam Phan (Secret Asian Man)

It doesn’t always feel good to do the right thing, but there’s something to be said about having complete confidence in your integrity when it’s under scrutiny. Kirk walks confidently into most situations as if he always has the right answers. Ben Finney is not Jim Kirk. Without even getting to know him that well, it’s still abundantly clear that the infraction that he received wasn’t the real reason he wasn’t a senior officer.

As the records officer, Finney seemed to be doing just fine. After all, he was an officer aboard the Starship Enterprise. It’s not clear if there are many other starships, but as far as we know, the Enterprise is a very important one. [Last episode, it was revealed "there are only twelve like it in the fleet" (ed.)] If Spock’s and McCoy’s commendations aren't enough to tell us how much prestige is represented in the ship's crew, Kirk’s commendations practically flaunt it. I assume that Finney’s service record must be relatively strong to serve on such a ship, but his actions in “Court Martial” tell us everything we need to know about why he’s not captain of his own starship.


Captain material?

Finney’s ability to sabotage the ship shows us that he’s clearly competent, but his plan lacked any forethought; a trait that is expected in leadership. What did he think was going to happen once Kirk was court martialed? Life couldn’t go back to normal for Benjamin Finney. He was on record as being jettisoned and presumed to be dead. It’s not as if he could return to being Enterprise’s records officer. At the very least, he’d have to escape the Enterprise and go into Richard Kimble-style exile. He didn't even manage to do that!

In short, he didn’t have the fortitude to move on from a decade-old perceived personal slight, instead developing a grudge. He didn’t have the integrity to own his mistakes, and so he blamed Kirk. He failed to weigh the possible consequences of his actions, either in the past or of his current half-baked scheme. But I don't condemn Finney for this. For all of his flaws, Finney is a perfectly understandable character, a human character. I get him, even if I don't grok him, and his relationship with Kirk was poignant and interesting.

In the end, no one is perfect: not the records officer nor the computer he works on.

4 Stars


The Little Black Box


by Janice L. Newman

As a fan of mysteries, I really enjoyed Court Martial. The episode did a good job of building tension throughout, even making the audience second-guess ourselves. One thing that I thought was an interesting touch was the recordings made of the events on the bridge and played back later for the purposes of the trial. We saw something similar in "The Menagerie", but in that case the playback was facilitated by the aliens. In Court Martial the implication is that the recordings are done automatically, presumably for circumstances like those in the episode.

This year (1967) regulations are going into effect that state that all planes must have a ‘black box’ installed—that is, a flight recorder that can help explain the cause of a crash after the fact. Having cameras on the bridge that record everything is a natural extrapolation of this new technology and makes perfect sense. And when the audience ‘sees’ Captain Kirk push the wrong button at the wrong time, even many of us are fooled for a moment, wondering, ‘Maybe he just made a mistake?’


A Soviet flight recorder – a "red box"?

It’s not a perfect episode. The denouement, where Captain Kirk is permitted to face the man who has a personal vendetta against him and engage in fisticuffs, didn’t make much sense. Nor did Finney’s plan: did he plan to hide out for the rest of his life? Was he going to get Harry Mudd to make him a false identity? What about his daughter?

Despite these caveats, I liked the mystery and the story overall, and particularly found the dramatic scene where each person’s heartbeat was screened out to be nail-bitingly effective. It was also refreshing not to be dealing with godlike aliens. I give this episode four stars.


The Return of Shirtless Kirk


by Erica Frank

Other viewers have covered the plot, the characters, and the nuances of the legal system. I'm going to focus on something more fun: The clothing, and occasional lack thereof.

We never meet the people who design Starfleet's uniforms, but they must be very influential. There's so much variety! You'd think people living on a spaceship would have limited resources, but no: everyone has uniforms in several colors and styles.

A trial is a formal event, which calls for formal apparel. Naturally, Starfleet's fashion designers rise to the occasion. First, we get Kirk in his side-wrap shirt, while he meets with Commodore Stone to discuss the accusations against him. This seems to be more formal than the normal pullover uniform.


Kirk's wraparound green uniform


The Commodore's outfit is similar to the Enterprise crew's standard ones, but his insignia is a sparkling flower brooch. Very nice.

Kirk changes back to his gold pullover to meet with an old friend; she's in a wild pink-and-green paisley gown. Later, in the courtroom, she wears a red minidress, very similar to Uhura's outfit, only with another flower brooch. I might have mistaken it for mere jewelry if I hadn't seen the same on the Commodore earlier.


This is what lawyers in Starfleet wear when they're not in court.

Dress uniforms—which is what I assume the officers are wearing in court—are satin, with gold trim, and the insignia is an array of triangular gemstones. They seem to open down the front; I approve of Starfleet's apparent policy that the more formal the outfit, the easier it should be to remove. (I'm glad someone in Starfleet is focused on practical issues.) As one would expect, the Commodore has more sparkles than a mere captain, even considering Kirk's impressive record.


Which of Kirk's triangles is the Grankite Order of Tactics? Is the thing on the side the Prantares Ribbon of Commendation? (Do enlisted personnel just have one or two little triangles?)


He can fight a Gorn on a planet full of gemstone rocks and not lose a thread, but when he's up against anyone he knew at the Academy, he loses clothing. He must have been terrible at strip poker.

This episode raised some questions, like: Why must Spock win at chess to prove that computer records can be altered? But I am willing to look past quite a few loopholes to see Kirk half-undressed and on his knees.

I'm not quite as shallow as that sounds. I'm just aware that we viewers often put more thought into the worlds and societies than TV writers have time to develop. I watch this show to have fun; I enjoy the science fiction elements as best I can, but when they're a bit weak, I am happy to be distracted by petty pleasures.

Three and a half stars. I know too much about the law to give it four.



Week before last, it was I Dream of Jeannie.  Now, it looks like the Enterprise crew will be on Wild, Wild West!  Come join us tomorrow at 8:30 PM (Eastern and Pacific).

Here's the invitation!



[February 6, 1967] Nothing In The World Can Stop Me Now! (Doctor Who: The Underwater Menace)


By Jessica Holmes

Geoffrey Orme’s ‘The Underwater Menace’ is technically not very good. The plot is very silly, the costumes are sillier, and the acting has to be seen to be believed.

And yet, I was grinning all the way through.

EPISODE ONE

With new companion Jamie, the TARDIS arrives on an island south of the Azores, and the crew soon run into trouble. Captured and whisked underground by a load of weirdos with conch shells on their heads, they soon find themselves about to be offered up to the sea goddess Amdo. Things are going about as well as they usually do, in short.

It turns out that they’ve stumbled upon the long-lost city of Atlantis. Yes, really.

Oh, and there’s a Russian scientist living down beneath the waves. Not sure how he got down there, but he’s been feeding the Atlanteans with…plankton. Tasty, tasty plankton. Mmm.

I’m not sure how they were eating before he arrived. They’ve supposedly been down there for thousands of years but are relying on plankton farmed by fish-people with surgically implanted plastic gills, all thanks to Professor Zaroff (Joseph Furst).

This serial is a lot more fun if you don’t mind the inconsistencies.

Luckily for the Doctor and his chums, Zaroff arrives in time to save them from becoming shark food. Zaroff and the Doctor hit it off, and the younger folks go off to make themselves useful (not that they get a choice in the matter). Ben and Jamie are off to the mines, and Polly soon ends up being prepared for surgery–They’re going to turn her into a fish!


“Polly, you speak foreign, go talk to him and ask him where we are.” Ah yes, the two languages: English and Foreign.

EPISODE TWO

Fortunately for Polly, a servant girl called Ara (Catherine Howe) comes along just as all the lights go off (thanks to the Doctor’s inability to leave electrical equipment alone) and whisks her to safety.

The Doctor flatters Zaroff as the scientist of dubious mental stability explains just what he’s doing here in Atlantis. The priesthood has come to think of him as some sort of messiah, since Zaroff has promised to raise the city from beneath the waves. Tiny little problem: he can’t actually do that. What he can do, however, is dig through the Earth’s crust and drain the Atlantic ocean until the sea level is lower than the city.

This triggers a fear in the Doctor that by digging a hundred miles down to the Earth’s core, he’ll flash-boil the ocean to steam and crack the crust of the Earth, blowing the planet apart.


“Just one small question. Why do you want to blow up the world?”

There is so much wrong here I’m not sure it's worth debunking it point by point.

Let’s just say: The crust is thinner than that, but even so you still can’t dig through it, and you’d still be nowhere near the inner core of the Earth even if you did. As to Earth blowing up? No. Just…no.

But let’s pretend that this is how the Earth works, because a mad scientist hell-bent on blowing up the world just because he can is a lot of fun. I guess he got tired of waiting for certain nations to stop playing nuclear chicken.

Down in the mines, the boys make the acquaintance of sailors-turned-miners Sean (P.G. Stephens) and Jacko (Paul Anil), who have a compass and a plan to escape.

Meanwhile, Polly hides in the temple, and the Doctor slips away from the lab by doing what he does best: messing around with stuff until he causes enough chaos that nobody notices him leave.

While snooping around the place, the Doctor learns that the priest who almost threw him to the sharks earlier, Ramo (Tom Watson), has no great fondness for Zaroff. He steals a moment to talk to him in the temple, and tells him about the coming destruction of Atlantis. Naturally horrified, Ramo asks the Doctor if there’s anything that can be done to stop Zaroff.

Perhaps there is, but they’ll need the help of the ruler of Atlantis, Thous (Noel Johnson). The priest agrees to help the Doctor, lending him a disguise so they can sneak through the city.

Jamie, Sean and Jacko escape the mines through the tunnel network, emerging in the temple, where they reunite with Polly.

The Doctor and Ramo bring their case before King Thous, but don’t get to explain much before he makes his decision:

Zaroff can do with them as he will.

EPISODE THREE

Zaroff gets a solid eight out of ten on the dramatic entrance as he waltzes into the episode, and he’s not best pleased with the Doctor. The pair are sent to the temple for sacrifice, and instead of the shark tank, they’re to be beheaded. Perhaps the sharks had already eaten.

However, before they get the chop, the voice of Amdo rings throughout the temple, commanding her followers to avert their eyes. I think you can see where this is going.

The Doctor and the priest slip out of the temple and into the tunnel behind the statue of the goddess, where Ben is hiding.

The other priests delightedly tell Zaroff and Thous of the miraculous disapparition, but Zaroff is no fool. He knows there was nothing miraculous about it. Thous, on the other hand…

Meanwhile, the Doctor fills the others in on what’s been going on, and comes up with a plan: starting a union. No, really. He sends Sean and Jacko to go and encourage the fish people to go on strike. The Atlanteans have no food stores, given how quickly their seafood spoils, so it won’t take long at all for them to cave into whatever demands the fish people make of them.

As for him and his companions, they’re going to kidnap Zaroff.

In disguise, the Doctor and his pals attract Zaroff’s attention at the market, leading him on a merry chase to the temple, where the gang corner and subdue him.

While they’re doing that, Sean and Jacko rile up the fish people, and there’s a long, long, LONG sequence of them slowly ‘swimming’ about (you can see the wires) and spreading the word about the strike. I think perhaps the script came up a little too short, and boy does it drag.

There’s also something deeply creepy about the fish people. I think it’s the way their mouths gape underwater. They look like they’re screaming all the time!

Zaroff claims that the Doctor is too late to stop his plans, but of course the Doctor won’t take his word for it. Things take a turn when Zaroff suddenly collapses. The Doctor can’t risk Zaroff’s plan coming to fruition, so he takes off with Ben and Jamie, leaving Polly and Ramo to watch over Zaroff–a fatal mistake.

No sooner has the Doctor left than does Zaroff stab the poor priest and abduct Polly. He can’t get far however, as the Doctor realises he needs the priest to help him navigate the city, and doubles back–just in time for Ramo to shuffle off this mortal coil. The lads are quick to act, catching up to Zaroff and forcing him to flee without Polly. She doesn’t have much to do in this serial, so being briefly kidnapped will have to do.

With the fish people now in revolt and the ruler willing to listen to their demands, it looks like it’s all coming undone for Zaroff–or is it?

When Thous finally sees Zaroff for the madman he really is and tries to arrest him, Zaroff whips out a pistol and guns him down, with his minions dispatching the royal guards.

And then this serial truly embraces its B-movie sensibilities with a line so hammy, so cheesy, that it would make a delicious toastie.

“NOTHING IN THE WORLD CAN STOP ME NOW!!!”

EPISODE FOUR

The Doctor and Ben find Thous moments after Zaroff leaves, hurt but still alive. They bring him to the rest of the group, and the Doctor decides on a last-ditch plan of action: destroy the sea wall, flood the lower levels of Atlantis, and destroy the lab.

He sneaks down to the lab with Ben, and with no real idea what they’re doing they get to work on sabotaging the reactor.

Meanwhile, Polly and Jamie, separated from the rest of the group, soon find themselves hopelessly lost–and the walls are starting to glow.

Drowning or radiation sickness, which will get them first, do you reckon?

The sea wall crumbles (because… oh, I don’t know, and I’m pretty sure nobody in the story does either. Magic radiation?) and everyone starts heading for higher ground, with Jamie and Polly beginning to doubt they’ll ever find a way out. Fortunately, Polly is a champion for women everywhere–by which I mean she pouts and whines and needs Jamie to help her walk along a corridor.

I can excuse all the B-Movie shoddiness in the world as long as it’s fun, but the sidelining of Polly does actually irk me.

I can’t help but think that this plan has an awful lot of collateral damage given that all they really needed to do was keep Zaroff away from the great big plunger that blows the Earth’s crust open. How many people were down there, and how many made it out? Nobody thinks twice about anyone outside the little group, but I have to wonder.

The Doctor and Ben manage to trick Zaroff into leaving the lab, and then lock him out and flee from the rising water. Zaroff is not wise enough to follow them, and the water overwhelms him, still reaching for the plunger.

Everyone makes it to the surface, but not all together. Thinking that the Doctor has perished, the Atlanteans swear to build a new temple and raise a stone in his honour–prompting an odd rant from a minor character about religion being the source of all their problems in the first place. Well sure, but their society was extremely reliant on Zaroff in other ways too. He’d have had enormous influence with or without the support of the temple.

Then again they were feeding people to sharks with regularity, so maybe the new Atlantis would be better off without them.

And without the fish people, too. It’s not clear what happened to them. Presumably they’re fine, given they breathe underwater.

The Doctor and his companions reunite, with Jamie having settled into the gang quite nicely. He needs a bit more time to shine on his own, but I like him so far. Once back inside the TARDIS, the kids tease the Doctor that he can’t actually steer the ship–to which the Doctor strongly protests. Of course he CAN steer the ship, it’s just a lot less fun that way.

Nobody let the Doctor get behind the wheel of a car. He’d drive blindfolded the wrong way down the M6 just to have a laugh.

To prove his point, the Doctor decides to take everyone to Mars.

And to prove him wrong, the TARDIS veers wildly out of control.

I wonder where they’ll end up next?

Final Thoughts

So, this serial is stupid, and bonkers, and absolutely has the soul of a B-Movie…and it’s great!

There have been plenty of higher-quality serials that I haven’t enjoyed half as much as this one, because the greatest sin Doctor Who can commit isn’t badness; it’s dullness. Bad can be good. Bad can be bizarre, fun, entertaining to poke fun at and talk about. The costumes may be shoddy, acting hammy and the script an outright disaster, but it succeeds in the way that matters most. It entertains. Boring is just boring. Trying to wring entertainment out of a dull serial is like drawing blood from a stone.

This is technically bad…but that’s why it’s good.

I am a simple woman; I enjoy a mad scientist and a silly end-the-world plot. Did the plot entirely make sense? Well, no. Look at any one element too hard and the whole thing dissolves like wet tissue paper.

The acting’s pretty much par for the course. Troughton continues to delight, as expected, and our lead villain doesn’t disappoint when it comes to chewing the scenery. I was surprised there was any left by the time he was finished. A serial this silly hinges on the villain, and Zaroff is just plain fun to watch–and “NOTHING IN THE WORLD CAN STOP ME NOW!” has become a household phrase. Well, it has in my household. Well, it has for me, personally. Everyone else is begging me to stop.

This is not hard, serious science fiction, and I don’t think it was ever meant to be.

And that’s just the way I like it.

My rating: 4 out of 5 stars.




[February 4, 1967] The Sweet (?) New Style (March 1967 IF)


by David Levinson

In the 13th century, a new style of poetry emerged in Tuscany. Developing from the troubadour tradition, it turned the idea of courtly love into one of divine love, in which an idealized woman guided a man’s soul to God. More importantly, it was written not in Latin, but in the Tuscan vernacular, which formed the basis of modern Italian. Its most famous practitioner, Dante Alighieri, referred to it as dolce stil novo (sweet new style) in his most famous work, and the phrase was eventually applied to the poetic school in the 19th century.

Science fiction also has a new style, though many readers disdain it and I doubt even its proponents would be inclined to call it “sweet”. Whether you call it the New Wave or the New Thing, the move is away from adventure and scientists solving problems and toward a more literary style, difficult topics like sex, drugs and politics, and generally kicking against the traces of modern constraints. Whether it’s just a passing fad or will change the language of science fiction forever remains to be seen.

Inferno

I’ve written before about the so-called Cultural Revolution in communist China, including the growing power of the young people calling themselves the Red Guards. Egged on by Chairman Mao, the Red Guards have run amok. High-ranking public officials have been publicly humiliated, beaten (sometimes to death), or have committed suicide. The number four man in the party, T’ao Chu was publicly purged, which led to violent riots in Nanking between his supporters and the Red Guards; at least 50 are dead and hundreds are injured. In Shanghai, the local government has been toppled and replaced by a revolutionary committee. Both President Liu Shao-ch’i and Party Secretary-General Teng Hsiao-p’ing have been condemned as “capitalist roaders”. Mao has also signaled a coming purge of the army.


A Red Guard hands out papers proclaiming the end of the Shanghai government.

Meanwhile, in spite of the internal chaos, China is also flexing her muscles on the border, particularly in Portuguese Macao. Late last year, a dispute over building permits led to a riot in which 8 Chinese were killed and 212 were injured. On January 22nd, six Chinese gunboats pulled into the inner harbor of Macao, but left again after an hour. One week later, the Governor General of Macao, under a portrait of Mao, signed an admission of guilt for the deaths, promising never again to use force against the Chinese community, to pay a large sum of reparations to the Macao Chinese, and to give a greater voice to the Chinese community in the person of Ho Yin, a man with close ties to Mao.

Near miss

Last year at Tricon, IF won the Hugo for Best Professional Magazine. Editor Fred Pohl came up with the idea of putting out an issue with all of last year’s winners: Isaac Asimov (Best All-Time Series), Harlan Ellison (Best Short Fiction), Frank Herbert and Roger Zelazny (tied for Best Novel) with a cover by Frank Frazetta (Best Professional Artist). He’s been touting it for a few months, but the best laid plans and all that. Herbert was unable to finish his story due to a hospital stay, and Frazetta was swamped with priority work. So, how did this month’s IF turn out?


Putting the most interesting element of the picture on the back is an odd choice. Art by McKenna

The Billiard Ball, by Isaac Asimov

James Priss and Edward Bloom have known each other since university. Priss went on to earn two Nobels and become the most famous scientist of his day. Bloom dropped out to go into business and became fabulously wealthy – mostly by turning Priss’s theories into practical devices. The two men don’t like each other much, but they get together to play billiards once or twice a week, and they play at a very high level. Is Bloom’s death the accident it appears to be?


Bloom’s had a rough day in the lab. Art by Vaughn Bodé

This is a solid Asimov story, with more character than is usual for him (not really a high hurdle). A good story in the old style; the Good Doctor doesn’t seem to be at all rusty at fiction.

Three stars.

I Have No Mouth, and I Must Scream, by Harlan Ellison

There were three Allied Mastercomputers – Chinese, Russian and American – which gained sentience and merged. Dubbing himself AM, he then killed every human being on the planet, except for four men and one woman. For 109 years, AM has tortured them physically and psychologically. The youngest of them, Ted, has found a way to free the others, but the price is high.


AM’s revenge. Art by Smith

Harlan Ellison has never shied away from dark or difficult themes. Here he sends five people to Hell, but does so without wallowing in the ugliness he shows us. This is a powerful piece, but not an easy read. I’ve penalized authors in the past for their handling of themes like this, but Ellison transcends it all.

A high four stars, but not for the faint of heart.

This Mortal Mountain, by Roger Zelazny

Jack Summers is the best mountaineer in the galaxy. He is famous for climbing Kasla, the highest known mountain in the universe. Now an even bigger mountain has been found on the planet Diesel, the Gray Sister, which stands 40 miles high, rising out of the planet’s atmosphere. Summers assembles a team and makes an attempt on the mountain. Along with the usual problems, they encounter hallucinations that may be real, and the mountain seems to be actively fighting them. This mountain holds a secret.


An angel bars the way. Art by Castellon

Zelazny is clearly taking inspiration from Dante’s Purgatory. Indeed, I could probably write several thousand words on the subject. In any case, he’s written an absolutely wonderful piece. Two things keep it from five stars: he explicitly draws attention to the Dantean parallel, and he stumbles at the finish line, turning a thing of mystic, mythic beauty into something more prosaic.

A high four stars.

Moonshine, by Joseph Wesley

The Cold War has moved to the Moon and turned warm. Admiral Jones has come to the moon to negotiate with the Russians. His orderly, Sven Christensen, is very good at his job and a man on the make. He set up a still shortly after arrival, but when moonwort (the only life found on the Moon) overruns his still, he smashes it up and throws it into the mash in a fit of pique. Before he can cut the final product with water, the Russians come to the table, and when they offer a toast with vodka (expecting the Americans to be unable to respond in kind), the Admiral signals Christensen to find something. What’s a guy to do?

This isn’t a bad story, though it pales in comparison to those before it. Implausible, but fun.

Three stars.

Flatlander, by Larry Niven

Flush with cash and depressed at his role in the departure of the puppeteers from the galaxy, Beowulf Schaeffer decides to visit Earth. On the way, he meets Elephant, an Earthman who’s sick of being called a Flatlander, no matter how much time he spends in space. After getting his pocket picked, Bay (as his friends call him) quickly realizes he’s in over his head and takes Elephant up on his offer to show him around. Elephant turns out to be Gregory Pelton, one of the richest human beings alive. They come up with the idea to ask the Outsiders for the location of a truly unique planet, regardless of the risk, so that Elephant can make a name for himself as a spacer. He will learn why he is and always will be a Flatlander.


The complete failure of a General Products hull is supposed to be impossible. Art by Gaughan

Niven is on a roll. He’s cranking out long pieces and they’ve all been good. This one is full of little details that make his universe feel like a real place. It took me a while to realize it, but the whirlwind tour of Earth isn’t just flavor; it helps show the differences between Elephant’s and Bay’s outlooks. I’ll even forgive the absolute groaner of a joke.

Four stars.

The Hugo and the Nebula, by Lin Carter

This time, Our Man in Fandom takes a look at some of the winners of the Hugo and the new Nebula, as well as some who, surprisingly, haven’t.

Three stars.

The Sepia Springs Affair, by Rosco Wright

A series of letters from the unusual members of the Sepia Springs Science Fiction Club to Fred Pohl, describing the club’s turbulent summer of 1970.


A couple of Fred’s correspondents. Art by Wright

It’s cute. Something of a satire on the sort of petty politics that often afflict small clubs. This is as close as we come to a new author this month, though Wright is probably the same as the Roscoe E. Wright who wrote a Probability Zero short-short for Astounding many years ago.

Three stars.

Where Are the Worlds of Yesteryear?, by L. Sprague de Camp

A short poem by the Tricon Guest of Honor on the effect the growth of scientific knowledge has on our stories.

Three stars.

The Iron Thorn (Part 3 of 4), by Algis Budrys

Having made his way inside the Thorn Thing just ahead of the spears of the Amsirs, Jackson finds himself talking to the Self-Sustaining Interplanetary Expeditionary Module or Susiem. In quick succession, he is given command, healing, food and the education a spaceship captain should have. Unable to get the deformed Amsir Ahmuls off the ship, Jackson subdues him and then orders Susiem to take them to Earth. Arriving in Columbus, Ohio, they are met by a group of naked people as the ship is taken apart by a swarm of bugs. To be concluded.


Jackson subdues Ahmuls. Art by Gray Morrow

This story continues to move at a breakneck pace. I find myself wondering how much has been cut for magazine publication, but I can’t see any seams. I have no idea how Budrys is going to wrap this all up, but it remains interesting despite the frenetic storytelling.

Three stars.

Latter-Day Daniel, by Betsy Curtis

Bob Beale works for the Brooklyn Zoo, getting his arm torn off by the lion Nero every other day. After a show, he is approached by Delia Whipple, who works for the Animal Protective League. She warns him of a plot by another zoo to kidnap Nero, the last African lion in the United States. Time is short, and it’s going to be up to Beale (and Nero) to prevent the kidnapping.

Betsy Curtis put out a handful of stories in the early 50s…and this feels like it could have been written then. The nicest thing I can say is that it’s better than Answering Service, which it reminded me of a little.

Two stars.

Summing up

What an issue! Two of our Hugo winners have already put themselves in contention for next year, and both are representative of the new style. Add in another excellent story and more ranging from good to very good. There’s really only one clunker in the bunch. This is going to be a hard act to follow.


Can Niven keep his streak going? He easily tops the rest of this list.






[February 2, 1967] It's About Time (Star Trek: "Tomorrow is Yesterday")


by Elijah Sauder

A time to laugh, a time to weep

Before I discuss the latest episode of Star Trek, I feel it would be remiss of me to not acknowledge the loss that we experienced on the 27th with the deaths of Gus Grissom, Ed White, and Roger B. Chaffee in the mishap during the Apollo 1 rehearsal test. It is in times like these, times when our dreams of reaching the stars seem to be shaken, that we are reminded of the danger involved in such dreams. However, though the stark reality and harshness of the danger can make the dream seem unattainable, we should stand and support the astronauts that choose to risk their lives, and follow the footsteps of those who have gone on without us, follow their dream and see it to fruition.  This mighty loss deserves remembering, let us remember these brave three and carry their dreams with us.

It feels weird to transition to summarizing an episode of a fictional TV show about space after remembering the events of the 27th, but “Tomorrow is Yesterday”, one of my favorite episodes so far, provides an eerily appropriate counterpoint to the Apollo 1 disaster.

We find the crew of the Enterprise in the late 1960s, stranded in the past after a brush with a "dark star", which renders the ship largely inoperable. While they are trying to figure out how to get the ship operational and get back to their own time, the Air Force detects them and sends fighters to investigate. This results in one of the pilots, Captain John Christopher, being beamed aboard. All well and good, Captain Kirk thinks. But the pilot had taken and transmitted recordings of the sighting. The crew beams down to try and destroy the recordings and set history to rights.


"You're coming with me to see Colonel Bellows!"

During all sorts of amusing antics, another non-crew member gets beamed aboard and Kirk gets captured. Spock, Sulu, and the pilot, go down to rescue Kirk and despite some duplicity, manage to retrieve him and beam back to the ship with everything they went to acquire. The episode ends with Scotty and his crew getting the ship running again (though still in need of more thorough repairs) and then using Spock’s idea to try and repeat the maneuver that got them to the past but in reverse by using the sun to 'slingshot' the ship forward in time. Through this process they go back in time a bit, which allows them to return the pilot to the past before the Enterprise beamed him up. They then continue forward, making it back to their own time and communicate to Starfleet that they have returned.


It's a sharp right past Mercury.

I absolutely loved this episode. It felt lighthearted and didn’t take itself too seriously. And whether it was meant or not, the fights in the show were quite humorous. But those things alone do not make a good episode. All the actors did a wonderful job this episode really selling the characters. I also appreciated the more science fictional premise. The previous couple of episodes have involved highly advanced species that border on gods and while I feel those stories have their place in science fiction, I much prefer premises like this episode’s.


Flying Kirk Attack!

Of course, "Tomorrow is Yesterday" was not without its flaws. The most glaring ones were at the end where the Enterprise beamed the pilot down to a location his past self already was, and that the timeline seemed to be rewritten after doing that; no trace of the Enterprise or its Earth-based gamboling. I personally didn’t mind these too much as I felt the fun of the rest of the show made up for them, but they may turn some people off.


"UFO? What UFO?"

Overall, for me this episode was a solid 4.5/5.


Get me to the Church on Time


by Abigail Beaman

Since this is my first time contributing to The Galactic Journey, I thought I would introduce myself. My name is Abigail Beaman or Abby for short. I started watching Star Trek during its 11th episode, "The Menagerie (Part One)", and to date, my favorite episode is "The Galileo Seven". I may or may not have created a wedding certificate for me and Mr. Spock–a girl's got to prepare for the future.


Mr. Abigail Beaman

Star Trek as a whole is a very interesting and wild concept that I support, but I feel that most episodes suffer from slow plots or the crew feeling out of place. That’s how I originally thought "Tomorrow is Yesterday" would have played out. While I normally dislike time-traveling episodes for their bad writing and forced narratives, this episode has helped change my opinion. With that being said I wholeheartedly believe that this episode wasn’t interesting because of the time travel, but rather how the characters interacted with said travel.


"And this is how you make a warp engine!" "That's enough, Lieutenant…"

In past episodes, there have been moments where I thought a character acted strangely or dumb just to continue the story. However I feel proud to say, not once did I question any of the characters' actions in this episode. Mr. Lieutenant Commander Spock was probably my favorite example of this episode. While yes, he was already my most beloved and favorite character, the sheer number of witty, very logical, and utterly Spockish retorts made the episode even better. I found the scene when Captain Christopher pulls a gun on Sulu and Kirk to be my favorite. Spock is already expecting this, so he beams up to the ship and then beams back down to knock out Captain Christopher. A nice application of logic and technology.


Funny. That's now how I look when he does that to me…

At the end of the line, I am going to rate "Tomorrow is Yesterday" very highly, as it was altogether a silly episode that made my day. However, I understand not everyone likes silly time travel episodes and their usually unaddressed ramifications. It’s all up to personal opinion, and with that said I rate this episode 4.5/5.



by Lorelei Marcus

Tragic Predictions

I had originally intended to write about my thoughts on the episode's predictions of when we will be launching our first manned moonshot. With ten Gemini missions rapidly successfully flown, and the Apollo program just around the corner, I felt "the late '60s" was a perfectly reasonable estimate. The Moon was practically in our grasp. Or so I thought.

On January 27, at 6:31 PM, three astronauts were killed in a freak accident fire on the Apollo One spacecraft. Experts think it was caused by faulty wiring which sparked with the 100% oxygen atmosphere of the cockpit.

I was numb when I first heard Mike Wallace report on the disaster. The dread and realization mounted over the course of the CBS Special Report, but the reality of what had occurred didn't really hit me until Walter Cronkite, a face I associate strongly with another world-shifting tragedy, came on the screen.  To paraphrase his words, "This may shift our plans back from 1967 to 1968, from '68 to '69, from '69 to even 1970.  But we must have courage…no, the guts to continue forward with this space program."

I'm glad "Tomorrow is Yesterday" writer D.C. Fontana never explicitly named the three men who will be on the Apollo flight to the Moon.  While an author could never have predicted something like the Apollo 1 fire, not hearing Grissom or White's names mentioned in the episode allows it to remain plausibly our future and the Enterprise's past.

Maybe "the late 60s" won't be a far off guess after all.

Four stars.



by Andrea Castaneda

A dimension too far

Star Trek already has a grandiose premise, which I love and appreciate. It leads to many possible scenarios for adventure, conflict, and character development. But when time travel gets added, it takes it a dimension too far and exponentially expands the potential for plot holes and inconsistencies.

The episode started out strong. I liked seeing how our 1967 perspective would process seeing a starship suddenly appear. I also liked the high stakes of a small event altering the future irrevocably.


The Enterprise as seen from Captain Christopher's F-104. This is one of the more effective shots in the show.

However, the setting of outer space has fixed rules, whereas the logic of time travel seems too flimsy to be consistent. We're given a brief explanation of Trekian physics. One needs massive amounts of energy and velocity to propel oneself through space and time. Therefore it makes sense that stars with their immense gravities are necessary to do so, and that the crew would repeat this process to go home. But then the logic starts to bend to fit the narrative. They conveniently go back a day in time before they arrived, returning their 20th century guests.

Yet despite how inexperienced they are with time travel, they manage to know the precise moment they were beamed up and can seamlessly beam them back to that exact moment. Which somehow removes their memories of everything ensuing. And because the Enterprise has gone back in time, it now could never exist in our time, making the entire second act pointless. Everyone goes home, the crew of the Enterprise cheer, and they continue to go boldly where no man's gone before.


Time travel fixes everything!

This end frustrates me not only because of the paradox it creates (how is the Enterprise no longer in the past? Shouldn't it exist twice?) but because the character development in Captain Christopher is now rendered moot. He was, to me, the strongest aspect about this episode. Through him and Kirk, we see what past and future can learn about each other and how despite the centuries between them, they're both still human.

I think a scenario where things ended in a time loop would have been far more interesting. Christopher could have returned home, had his son destined to explore Saturn, and raised him to keep looking to the stars– all inspired from his day-long romp in space, making the end of this episode feel less hollow. Certainly, it would have been a less problematic presentation of the time travel cliché.

Still, this "Tomorrow is Yesterday" was overall enjoyable to watch. It allowed much of the ensemble to shine, offered up hilarious gags and an interesting perspective about humanity's advancement. I just hope that going forward, the writers keep this time travel plot device to a minimum.

Three stars.


Well, at least it's unlikely this week's episode will involve time travel.  Join us tonight at 8:30 PM (Eastern and Pacific)!


"Captain Kirk, This is Your Life!"

Come join us!



[January 31, 1967] The Law of Averages (February 1967 Analog)


by Gideon Marcus

Bump in road

Here, just a few days after human spaceflight's greatest catastophe, it's easy to begin to doubt.  Is this madcap race to the Moon, hanging on a construction leased out to the lowest bidders, all worth it?  The cost in money and lives?  We've lost six astronauts thus far; Elliot, Bassett and See were all killed in training accidents, but their souls are no less valuable than those of Grissom, White, and Chaffee.

Indeed, the Russians have already announced that they've given up.  With the war heating up in Vietnam, with society on Earth not yet Great, should we continue to bother?

The answer, of course, is yes.  Any man's death diminisheth me, as John Donne said, but as large as this tragedy looms in our vision now, it will be the smallest of footnotes compared to humanity's epic trek to the stars, which surely must come.  It is our species' saving grace that we recover from missteps and proceed more vigorously than ever.  And it is out there in the stars that we will find the answers to the riddles of the universe, the exciting frontiers, the possible partners in science and empathy.

Out there

This month's Analog offers a sneak preview of what this far future, when humanity is established in space, will look like..


by Kelly Freas

Pioneer Trip, by Joe Poyer


by Kelly Freas

On the first expedition to Mars, an electrical fire causes one member of a three-man crew to succumb to chemical-induced emphysema.  His condition, fatal if the ship does not turn 'round (though dubious even if it does) jeopardizes the mission.  The commander makes one decision; the stricken crewman another.

I'm not usually a fan of Joe Poyer, who writes as if he gets the same thrill from technical writing as others might from the works sold under the counter and wrapped in brown paper.  Nevertheless, this story was pretty affecting–and all the more poignant in light of last week.  A solid three star effort.

There Is a Crooked Man, by Jack Wodhams


by Kelly Freas

Science fiction usually explores the positive effects of technology.  This mildly droll story deals with how new advances are used for nefarious purposes.  Teleportation, brain transplant, mind-blanking frequencies, a precognition drug–these all lead to a race between criminal elements and the police.

Told in a bunch of very short snippets, it's a surprisingly readable, if not tremendous, tale.

Three stars.

The Returning, by J. B. Mitchel


by Leo Summers

A little spore, the only remaining particle of an alien expedition thousands of years old, is awoken by a flash flood through a desert air force proving ground.  The creature quickly awakens, eager to make contact with the sender of the modulated signals it is receiving.  To its dismay, the alien finds only a weaponized drone, hallmark of a savage society.  But the pacifistic being has other uses for the plane…

If J.B. Mitchel be "John Michel", then he is a veteran, indeed.  He first started writing in the 1930s, and I don't believe I've seen anything from him since I started the Journey.  His skill shows.  His prose is evocative, his descriptions vivid.  And I very much appreciate a story where the "monster from outer space" is basically a good guy, not bent on Earth's conquest.

Four stars.

The Quark Story, by Margaret L. Silbar

The one piece by a woman published in any SF magazine this month is this nonfiction article.  It's quite good. 

Last year, I read a lot of physics books for laymen.  The consensus has been that the menagerie of subatomic particles was reminiscent of the zoo of elements discovered by the late 19th Century.  There must be some underlying simplicity that results in the multiplicity.  For elements, it was electrons, protons, and neutrons.  For those and smaller elementary particles, the answer appears to be still smaller bits called "quarks".

It all makes perfect sense the way Ms. Silbar lays it out, even if editor John Campbell is a doubting Thomas about it.  The only fault to the article is it could have used another page or two to explain some of the trickier concepts (e.g. Pauli Exclusion Principle).

Four stars.

Amazon Planet (Part 3 of 3), by Mack Reynolds


by Kelly Freas

The final chapter of Mack Reynold's latest turns everything on its head.  In the first installment, we followed Guy Thomas, a would-be merchant, to the planet of Amazonia.  Said world is reputed to be utterly dominated by women, and men aren't allowed to escape.  Upon arriving, it was revealed that Thomas is none other than Ronny Bronston, Section G agent extraordinaire.

Part Two involved Bronston meeting up with a domestic masculine resistance movement, "The Sons of Liberty", several attempts on his life, capture and truth-drug doping by the Amazon government, and copious examples of an almost laughable communistic, female-run despotism.  At this point, I had to wonder what the normally sensitive Reynolds was trying to do.  His matriarchy was a paper-thin caricature.

Turns out it was all a big put-on, mostly at the instigation of the daughter of one of the world's leaders.  Amazonia has long since evolved beyond its primitive beginnings and is actually quite a good example of enlightened equality and meritocracy.  The trouble in paradise comes not from within, but without–at the hands of a rogue Section G agent.

Part Three is half adventure story and half political lecture (as opposed to Part One which was all lecture and Part Two, which was mostly adventure).  Nevertheless, Reynolds isn't bad at both, and I do appreciate his both subverting expectations and extrapolating an interesting political experiment. 

Three stars for this segment, and three and a half for the whole, which is greater than the sum of its parts.

Elementary Mistake, by Winston P. Sanders


by Kelly Freas

I really liked the setup on this one: there's no faster than light drive, but there are matter transmitters (a la Poul Anderson's story "Door to Anywhere" in Galaxy).  So ships are sent out at relatavistic speeds to set up teleporters on distant worlds.  The trip takes five or ten or twenty years for outside observers, but the actually crew experience only a matter of months.  And so, humanity spreads.

Only on the world of Guinevere, not only are none of the required minerals available to build the transmitter, but the atmosphere itself has an inebriating effect.  What's a creative crew to do?

It's a reasonable puzzle story, though I have trouble contemplating a world where calcium doesn't exist but strontium does in quantity.  The only thing I took umbrage with was 1) the lack of women on the exploration team, and 2) the explicit implication that the only thing women are good for is servicing men.

Given that this issue has both a great science article by a woman and the conclusion of a serial about a perfectly good planet run by women, this stag story set in the far future is particularly jarring.  But Anderson/Sanders has always had a problem with this, which strikes me as strange given that his wife is herself a science fiction writer.

Anyway, three stars.

Leading the pack

Speaking of averages, Analog, which had hitherto been relatively low in the ranks of magazines for several months suddenly emerges as the best of the lot, clocking in at a decent 3.3 stars.  That's partly because its competition is rather weak.  Only SF Impulse (3.1) finished above water.  All the others scored less than three stars: IF (2.9), Fantasy and Science Fiction (2.6), Worlds of Tomorrow (2.5), Galaxy (2.4), and Amazing (2.2).

Analog also, atypically, featured the most women contributors…since none appeared anywhere else!  Given that Lieutenant Uhura appears front and center on every episode of Star Trek, I think it's time literary SF caught up with its boob tube sibling.

Or we might end up with a much more lasting disaster!





[January 28, 1967] "Fire in the cockpit!" (The AS-204 Accident)


by Kaye Dee

As I write this, I’m still in shock. It’s only a few hours since the news broke here in Australia of the tragic loss of the crew of Apollo 204 in a fire on the launchpad at Cape Kennedy, during a launch rehearsal. Spaceflight is difficult and dangerous – we know that. Astronauts Freeman, Bassett and See were killed in plane crashes during training; Armstrong and Scott had a narrow escape from inflight disaster during Gemini VIII.

Unconfirmed rumours abound of Soviet cosmonauts who died in unsuccessful space missions before Gagarin, and the Russians have probably had training accidents to which they have not yet admitted. When I wrote about Gemini VIII’s aborted mission, I asked if spaceflight was moving too fast. There’s certainly been a headlong rush on NASA’s part to get to the Moon ahead of the Soviet Union, so perhaps this tragedy is the answer to my rhetorical question.


The first image available showing the fire-ravaged interior of the Apollo 204 spacecraft

Details are still sketchy at this time, although no doubt more information about the accident will emerge in the coming days and weeks as investigations take place. But right now, let’s explore the background to the mission and what we know about the catastrophe.

The Lost Crew
Apollo 204 (AS-204) was intended to be the first manned test flight of the new Apollo Command and Service Modules, the spacecraft that will be used to carry the first NASA astronauts to the Moon within the next few years. As such, two experienced astronaut test pilots were assigned to the flight: USAF Lt. Colonels Virgil “Gus” Grissom, the Command Pilot, and Senior Pilot Edward White. Grissom was the United States’ second space traveller, flying the Mercury MR-4 mission. He also commanded the first manned Gemini mission, Gemini III. Rumour even has it that Grissom was already under possible consideration to command NASA’s first lunar landing mission. Lt. Col. White is famous as the first American to make a spacewalk, during Gemini IV. These veteran astronauts were joined for this mission by rookie US Navy Lt. Commander Roger Chaffee. Chaffee was selected as a member of the third astronaut group and specialised in communications: he had been a CapCom for both Gemini III and IV.


Official Apollo 204 crew portrait, including a model of the new Apollo Command Module which their mission was intended to test. Left to right Ed White, "Gus" Grissom and Roger Chaffee

The Apollo 204 back-up crew consists of experienced Mercury and Gemini astronaut Walter Schirra and first-time fliers Donn Eisele and Walter Cunningham. Astronaut Eisele had originally been assigned in Lt. Commander Chaffee’s role for the Apollo 204 mission but had to be replaced when he needed shoulder surgery in early 1966. I assume that once Apollo missions resume after the accident investigation, this crew will fly the first orbital mission that should have been accomplished by AS-204.

What’s in a Name?
The design for the official Apollo 204 patch, developed by the crew and illustrated by North American Rockwell artist Allen Stevens, carries the designation Apollo 1. At the time that it was approved by NASA, in June 1966, this was the flight’s official name. However, it seems that only recently some doubt arose as to whether the formal designation of the mission would be Apollo 1 after all, which is why it is presently being referred to as Apollo 204, or AS-204. I’ve heard from the Australian liaison officer at NASA, that just last week approval for the patch was withdrawn and that, if this accident had not occurred, the patch might have had to be redesigned, depending on the final mission designation.

But as it stands, the mission patch uses the American flag for a background, with a central image depicting an Apollo spacecraft in Earth orbit. The Moon appears to the right of the Earth, reminding us of the eventual goal of Project Apollo. The designation Apollo 1 and the names of the crew appear in a border around the central image, while the patch is edged with a black border – a touch that is poignantly even more appropriate in view of the loss of the crew. I do hope that this patch, and the designation Apollo 1, will be re-instated as the official insignia of this mission in honour of its lost crew.

The Mission that Should Have Been
The fire that has killed the Apollo 204 crew occurred during a preflight test ahead of a launch scheduled for 21 February. It was planned to be the first manned orbital test flight of the Apollo Command and Service Modules, launched on a Saturn IB rocket. The mission was to have tested launch operations, ground tracking and control facilities, as well as the performance of the Apollo-Saturn launch vehicle. Depending on how well the spacecraft performed, the mission might have lasted up to two weeks, perhaps equalling Gemini VII's record spaceflight and demonstrating that the Apollo spacecraft could function successfully for the duration of the longest Moon flights currently in planning.


The Apollo 204 crew in front of Pad 34, from which they should have launched, and where they have been killed

The Command Module allocated to Apollo 204, CM-012, was a so-called “Block I” version, originally designed before the lunar orbit rendezvous landing strategy was selected. Block 1 spacecraft aren’t able to dock with a lunar module, but future “Block II” versions will.

Was It a Lemon?
The Apollo Command and Service Modules are undoubtedly far more complex than any previously-built spacecraft, so it isn’t surprising that their development has had many teething problems. Over the last few months, I’ve heard from my former colleagues at the WRE that many issues with the Command Module became evident last year, especially when CM-012 was delivered to Kennedy Space Centre in August to be prepared for its flight. Even before it arrived, the Apollo 1 crew had expressed concerns to Apollo Spacecraft Program Office manager Joseph Shea about the quantity of flammable materials, such as nylon netting and Velcro, being used in the spacecraft cabin to hold tools and equipment in place. It seems that, even though Shea ordered these flammable materials removed, this may not have happened.


The Apollo 204 crew sent Program manager Jospeh Shea a parody of their crew portrait to express their concernes about the spacecraft. They are shown praying, and the picture carried the inscription: "It isn't that we don't trust you, Joe, but this time we've decided to go over your head"

When CM-012 arrived at Kennedy Space Center, there were still 113 significant planned engineering changes to be completed, and another 623 engineering change orders were made following delivery! This suggests that many issues with the spacecraft design were still being resolved. Apparently, the engineers in charge of the spacecraft training simulators just couldn’t keep up with all these changes, and I’ve heard that Lt. Colonel Grissom expressed his frustration about this by bringing a lemon from a tree at his home and hanging it on the simulator.


CM-012, at that time designated Apollo 1, arriving at Kennedy Space Centre

There were several problems with the environmental control unit in the Command Module, which was twice returned to the manufacturer for designed changes and repairs. During a high-speed landing test, when the Command Module was dropped into a water tank to simulate splashdown, its heat shield split wide open, and the ship sank like a stone! There were also apparently concerns about a propellant tank in the Service Module that had ruptured during pre-delivery testing. NASA had it removed and tested at Kennedy Space Centre to be sure there were no further problems. 

CM-012 finally completed a successful altitude chamber test on 30 December and was mated to its Saturn IB launch vehicle on Pad 34 at Cape Kennedy on 6 January. So, was this particular spacecraft a lemon – an accident waiting to happen? Or has this tragedy shown that the design of the Apollo Command Module is inherently flawed? We’ll undoubtedly have to wait for the results of the accident investigation before we know the answer.

Countdown to Disaster
At this point, we still know very little about the disastrous fire or what led to its breakout, but my WRE colleagues have helped me put together some information accident from their contacts at NASA. The fire broke out during what had apparently been a trouble-plagued launch simulation known as a "plugs-out" test. This kind pre-flight simulation is intended to demonstrate that the spacecraft will operate as it should on internal power, detached from all cables and umbilicals, and successfully carrying out this test was essential for confirming the 21 February launch date.


The AS-204 crew in the CM simulator on 19 January, as part of their preparations ahead of the "plugs out" test

Almost as soon as the astronauts entered the Command Module, there were problems when Grissom experienced a strange odour in his oxygen supply from the spacecraft, which delayed the start of the test. Problems with a high oxygen flow indication that kept triggering the master alarm also caused delays. There were also serious communications issues: at first, it was Command Pilot Grissom experiencing difficulty speaking with the control room, but the problems spread to include communications between the operations and checkout building and the blockhouse at complex 34, forcing another hold in the simulated countdown.

Fire Erupts
It was not until five and a half hours after the simulation began that the countdown finally resumed, and when it did instruments apparently showed an unexplained rise in the oxygen flow into the crew’s spacesuits. Within seconds, there were calls from the spacecraft indicating that a fire had broken out in the cabin and that the astronauts were facing a serious emergency, trying to escape. The final transmission from inside the spacecraft ended with a cry of pain.

Of course, there are emergency escape procedures for the Command Module, but with the triple spacecraft hatch, it requires at least 90 seconds to get it open, and it seems that the crew had never been able to accomplish the escape routine in that minimum time. There is some evidence that Lt. Col. White was trying to carry out his assigned emergency task of opening the hatch, but in the pure oxygen atmosphere of the spacecraft, the fire became incredibly intense very rapidly and rising internal pressure would have made it difficult, if not impossible to open the inward-opening hatch.


Picture taken shortly after the fire was extinguished showing the external damage to the Command Module caused by the hull rupture resulting from the fire

In less than 20 seconds from the first detection of the fire, the pressure inside CM-012 rose to the point where it actually ruptured the hull of the spacecraft, sending flame, heat and dense smoke into the pad service structure. The ground crew bravely tried to rescue the astronauts, but the dangerous conditions and unsuitable emergency equipment made it virtually impossible. Many were later treated for smoke inhalation. There were fears the CM had exploded, and that the fire might ignite the solid fuel rocket in the launch escape tower above it. If this happened, it could set fire to the entire service structure.

It took about five minutes for the ground crew to finally get the spacecraft hatch open, but their efforts were in vain, as the astronauts were already dead. The exact cause of death has yet to be determined: it may have been physical burns from the fire, or carbon monoxide asphyxia, from the fire's by-products.

Whatever the cause, three brave men have died, and an exhaustive investigation of the fire and its causes will now take place as part of the accident investigation. Exactly what effect this tragedy will have on the future of the Apollo programme will very much depend upon the findings of that investigation. If the design of the Command Module is found to be intrinsically flawed, the necessary redesigns could delay the programme for years, causing NASA to miss President Kennedy’s deadline for a Moon landing, and allowing the Soviet Union to overtake the United States again in the Space Race.

Grissom and White have both said in past interviews that they recognized the possibility that there could be catastrophic failures and accidents in spaceflight and that they accepted that possibility and continued with their work. I’d just like to give the last word in this article to Astronaut Frank Borman, who said in a 1965 interview "I hope that the people in the US are mature enough that when we do lose our first crews they accept this as part of the business". It would not honour the loss of the Apollo 204 crew if this tragedy led to the termination of the Apollo programme.





55 years ago: Science Fact and Fiction