[January 12, 1967] Most illogical (Star Trek: "The Galileo Seven")

Zero sum game


by Janice L. Newman

Ever since his masterful performance in “The Naked Time”, I’ve been eager to see more episodes featuring Leonard Nimoy’s half-Vulcanian, half-human character, “Spock”. This episode revolves around Spock, but it unfortunately does a poor job of what it sets out to do.

The Enterprise is on a mission to bring much-needed medical supplies to a planet suffering from plague. En route, they encounter a quasar, and since they have a couple of extra days before their rendezvous, they follow another directive: to investigate all quasars and quasar-like phenomena.

A shuttle is sent out crewed by seven people. Three are familiar to us: Spock, Scotty, and Doctor McCoy (why the ship’s engineer and ship’s doctor were sent on this scientific mission is never explained). The rest of the shuttle crew are unknowns which, given the episodes we’ve already seen, likely means that one or more of them will die.

The quasar interferes with the instruments of both the shuttlecraft and the Enterprise, causing the shuttle to crash land on a planet in the center of the quasar and the Enterprise crew to be unable to find them and pick them up. They’re racing against time, as Galactic High Commissioner Ferris, who is overseeing the delivery of the critical medical supplies, constantly and obnoxiously reminds them. If they can’t find the missing crew members within two days, they will have to leave them stranded, and probably to their deaths.


Commissioner Smarmiface

On the planet Spock takes command, only to find his orders questioned and challenged at every turn. McCoy’s needling is typical, though it feels inappropriate in the midst of the crisis. In fact, he starts the whole thing off by prodding Spock and saying that “you've always thought that logic was the best basis on which to build command”. This assertion is already suspect, given that Spock has reacted to Kirk’s more inspired gambles (see: “The Corbomite Maneuver” and “The Menagerie”) with respect and acknowledgement that they were clever, even if they were unorthodox or unexpected.

Perhaps following McCoy’s lead, several of the other crew members react with increasing disbelief, anger, frustration and disgust every time Spock tells them to do something, or even speaks. The conflict is meant to have at its heart the idea of pitting reason against emotion, but frankly, it’s poorly done. The crew mostly come across as insubordinate bullies, irrational to an outrageous degree. When Spock is helping Scotty attempt to repair the shuttle and Boma insists that Spock stop what he’s doing and ‘say a few words’ for one of the crewmembers who has, as expected, been killed by the planet’s native lifeforms, Spock’s refusal seems like the only reasonable course given the time constraints they are working under. The only really questionable choice he makes is ordering one of the crewmembers to stay outside as a scout in a dangerous area, which leads to the crewmember’s death—though as a fellow watcher noted, if the scout had been better at his job he may well have survived.


"If only I had some way to call for help!"

When they finally manage to get the shuttlecraft into orbit, Spock jettisons the fuel in a last-ditch attempt at a distress signal. It works, but only because Captain Kirk has disobeyed his own orders and started towards his rendezvous at ‘space normal’ speed instead of ‘warp speed’, and is therefore still in the vicinity. The episode ends with the entire bridge crew laughing mockingly at Spock when he denies that his final choice was an impulsive, “purely human, emotional act”.

Thus ends a story that was by turns exciting, even riveting, and enormously frustrating. The introduction of a ship’s shuttlecraft, the crew’s attempts to get the shuttlecraft into orbit, the Enterprise’s increasing desperation as they hunt for the lost crew were great. I got goosebumps when Spock chose to jettison the fuel. But the way the people under Spock undermined and questioned his authority was irritating and felt contrived. I couldn’t help but think that even if Kirk were giving the same orders, he would never have been challenged the way Spock was. Commissioner Ferris’ continual reminders that there wasn’t much time left were also annoying, although more understandable, as his mission was to prevent unnecessary loss of life in a planetwide plague—a mission which Kirk seems to treat very cavalierly at the end.

With all the good and bad, I can’t give this episode more—or less—than three stars.



by Gideon Marcus

Keep cool, man

In a crisis situation, the most valuable asset is a leader who keeps a level head.  While everyone else is flailing about, the boss makes calm, rational decisions.  With the exception of the laughable babbling scene two thirds through the episode (which single-handedly dropped the Young Traveler's appraisal of the episode from four to three stars), Mr. Spock was completely unflappable, and his decisions, for the most part, excellent.  In an episode not filled with straw men composed of irrationality, Spock's demeanor would have shored up flagging morale, not stoked anger and resentment.

"But two men died!" some might cry, girding an argument against Spock's ability to command.  I submit that, in fact, Spock's actions preserved the most people overall—you just have to see the beings on the planet as people.  While Mssrs. Boma and Gaetano were urging for a demonstration of murder, Spock argued restraint, insisting on terrorizing the aborigines rather than killing them.  He knew that a demonstration of power was likely to be useless, having deduced that their culture was too primitive to sustain the tribal social structure that would respect such a display.  But knowing his men were keen on violence, he channeled it into a less destructive option.


Spock trying to keep everyone alive.

When the indigenous sophont began whacking on the shuttlecraft with a rock, Spock didn't suggest blasting it with a phaser (fuel concerns may have been tight, but they probably could have afforded that shot based on prior consumption).  He gave it a painful shock instead.  Effective and non-lethal. 

In the end, Spock's actions were far more respectful of intelligent life, regardless of the form, than the path advocated by Doctor McCoy, a man whose profession is centered on the preservation of life.

Quasi-scientific

There were several points in the episode where a little bit of explanatory dialogue could have made things much more plausible.  Why does the Enterprise spend so much time searching the class M planet?  There's no indication that's where the shuttle went.  I would have liked there to have been some intimation that Latimer deliberately aimed the Galileo toward the habitable world so they'd have some chance.

Also, for those who don't know what a quasar is, they really are quite interesting, and probably nothing like the phenomenon depicted in the show (which is more like some kind of nebula).  Quasars are actually cutting-edge astronomical science.  When humanity first started turning their radio telescopes to the stars, they discovered sources of radiation that had hitherto been invisible.  But they blazed like beacons in low frequency radio waves. 

They seemed no bigger than stars, but they clearly were not stars.  So they were called "quasi-stellar radio sources" – quasars for short.  No one knew if they were extremely small, close-by entities, or extremely powerful far away ones.  A few years back, it was noted that every quasar had an immensely red-shifted spectrum.  That is to say that all of the light coming from any quasar, every single wavelength of color, was stretched, as if the body were receding from us at great speed.  You've probably heard of this phenomenon before: the Doppler effect you hear when a train whistle is heading away from you.

This red-shift indicated that the quasars were actually very far away, billions of light years.  They also offered proof that the early universe (since if the quasars are far away, they must be quite old – the light took billions of years to reach our eyes, after all) was different from the current universe since there are no nearby quasars.  Thus, final conclusive proof that the universe arose from some kind of Big Bang, as opposed to always existing, as Fred Hoyle and many other prominent cosmologists suggested.

What this all means is that Kirk and co. could not have investigated a quasar, for there are none close enough to Earth for his starship to reach!  He did cover up with the possibility of it being a "quasar-like" object, whatever that means (a quasi-quasi-stellar source?!)


A quasasar?

I can usually squint my ears and forgive this scientificish wishiwash, but it drives the Young Traveler crazy.

Anyway, I guess I give the episode three stars.  I can't decide if it's a terrible episode with great bits or a great episode with terrible bits…


What’s the Folsom Point


by Tam Phan (Secret Asian Man)

We’ve seen a handful of leaders throughout the series, but this is the first time that we get to experience an alien leading a team that is not of their species. Leaders have a critical role to play in every organization, and few would contest that, but what happens when we are led by someone that’s different from us?

The Enterprise’s resident alien, Spock, is no stranger to leadership. He wouldn’t be First Officer if he was. He has proven to be level headed and capable in stressful situations, and in my opinion, he conducts himself no differently in “The Galileo Seven”. He’s a sound decision maker. Yet, Gaetano and Boma seemed intent on defying Spock’s every decision no matter how reasonable. None of Spock’s orders were followed without some comment about his logic as if emotions and irrationality were the greater tools for the situation. The overt hostility toward him at every turn seemed out of place for a crew that should be trained and fully capable of following orders. It’s hard to imagine their actions were motivated by anything other than an irrational hatred or fear of the other. Would the crew have treated Kirk the same way if he had made the same decisions?

Spock’s experience reflects my own. As an Asian, an obviously "different" person (no matter how much people say America is a melting pot) it’s not out of the ordinary for my opinion to be dismissed in favor of the same opinion expressed by someone less different.

I don’t know exactly what the message was in this episode. In the end, Spock made the correct decision and saved the investigation team. Spock received no commendations for actions that not only prevented the death of several crew members, but, as Gideon mentioned, also a number of natives. Yet his decision was credited to human emotionality rather than Vulcanian rationality. It's a haha moment. The good part of Spock is the human one, not the alien one.

I’ll give the episode credit for demonstrating how a seemingly capable crew might turn on someone because he’s different, but I already know what that looks like. And in the end, if the episode was trying to show the foolishness of bigotry, it undercut its own message with the insulting ending.


Nothing better for morale and discipline than laughing at the Exec for being an alien.

One Star


The needs of the many


by Andrea Castaneda

Andi Castaneda here, photojournalist extraordinaire.

I had a lot of mixed feelings watching this episode. On one hand, I liked the setup for the conflict and seeing Spock in a leadership role. But I was ultimately left frustrated by McCoy’s and Boma’s behavior, who seemed too selfish and immature to be crewmembers of the Starship Enterprise.

This episode focuses a lot on “emotion vs logic”. But I think this conflict goes deeper than that. I think this can also be framed as “the individual vs the collective”. Now, I’m still getting to know the characters of Star Trek. But I’m told the Vulcanian culture places much more value in the community over the individual–the latter being too emotional. Spock is consistent with that philosophy, focusing more on saving the majority even at the expense of the few. He includes himself in these calculations.

However, the other crew members–specifically Boma and McCoy–seem to resent this. Perhaps this can be explained as simply as a culture clash. But one would think that after working with Spock for so long, they can understand why he has different customs and world views. Instead, they insult him, calling him a machine and implying he has no heart.


Perhaps these expressions can be entered into the log for use at their disciplinary hearing.

When other crew members are killed by the planet’s native species, they insist on giving the deceased proper burials despite the mounting danger. Granted, I say this from the comfort of my own home far removed from their situation, but it seems to me that their insistence on having their emotional needs met–despite how it jeopardizes the crew’s safety–shows a much more selfish side to them. Yes, I can understand their grief and rage, something that Spock perhaps should have taken into account. But they seemed to lack the foresight to see how it would affect others. Gaetano and Latimer were dead, yet they insisted on putting the rescue attempt in jeopardy to prioritize their own feelings.

At last, they make it off the surface of the planet, but not before they’re attacked again by the native species. The two rescue Spock from the attack–despite his protests- but it costs precious time and fuel. He confronts them on this, but what’s done is done. Their chance of survival is now even slimmer. Luckily, the show runners need another episode next week, and they are saved thanks to Spock’s quick thinking.

Overall, I enjoyed watching Spock taking on a leadership role and how he resolved conflicts. However, I wish the show had acknowledged how McCoy’s and Boma’s actions nearly cost them all their lives. It seems odd that people this erratic managed to be part of such a prestigious fleet. I'll give the show the benefit of the doubt and chalk this up to mediocre writing rather than a fundamental flaw.

For now.

Three stars.


An Illogical Logic


by Jessica Dickinson Goodman

Mr. Spock uses the word "logical" to describe his command decisions, but what he seems to mean is "passionless." It's a subtle difference, but since it was one central to the conflict of this story, I think it is worth diving into.

Here on Earth, in 350 B.C.E. Aristotle famously defined the rhetorical device of logos in his Rhetoric: “αἱ δὲ ἐν αὐτῷ τῷ λόγῳ διὰ τοῦ δεικνύναι ἢ φαίνεσθαι δεικνύναι,” that is, as the third of three methods of persuasion, one which relies “upon the speech itself, in so far as it proves or seems to prove.” (Aristotle in 23 Volumes, translated by J. H. Freese, 1926).

Aristotle meant to inform his students about how to balance three methods of convincing people to change their minds. As anyone with a Classics background will remember, Aristotle breaks all argument down into pathos (arguments designed to stir emotions), ethos (arguments which rely on the speaker’s character), and logos (arguments which rely on the proof they contain). Like a single crewman or crewwoman stranded on a hostile planet, these forms of address are not designed to be used in isolation. Nearly any given speech by Captain Kirk to his crew employs all three of these, often to stirring effect.

Yet the central tension of "The Galileo Seven" lies around Mr. Spock’s stubborn insistence on ignoring the reality of emotions and social standing to focus solely on what he calls “logic,” but which often seems to be his own good ideas, framed in declarative sentences (do any readers have loved ones who “argue” like this?) Sometimes, yes, as Gideon says, Mr. Spock’s “logic” does seem to be the actions most likely to result in the survival of the most sentient beings possible.

But in the over two-dozen times the word “logic” was uttered in this past episode, very few of them refer to moments where the speaker has provided clear proof about the rightness of a course of action. For example, when Dr. McCoy notes that Spock must be pleased to be in command, he replies:

“I neither enjoy the idea of command, nor am I frightened of it. It simply exists. And I will do whatever logically needs to be done. Excuse me.”

Claiming an action is logical, at least as Aristotle taught it and as most of us use it today, is not a short-cut to declaring a perfect, top-down, universally-understood course of correct action. It is instead a way to try to convince people your idea is best; one of several ways, all of which are stronger when braided together. It seems like whatever Mr. Spock is terming “logic” is really more about self-discipline than persuasion, which is all well-and-good, but as a commander, part of his job is to motivate people to carry out his orders. Over and over again throughout this episode, Mr. Spock fails to do so, in part because he insists on misusing both logic and rhetoric.


Logic fails Mr. Spock, or perhaps he fails logic?

There is hope for him yet, however. When all seems lost for the shuttle crew, Mr. Spock vents their fuel, sending up a flare big enough for the Enterprise to see it. It is a decision he could have verbalized, arrived at and proved logically, using either inductive or deductive reasoning, and brought the crew along with him. Though he did not, it is a decision which required him to not only analyze what he thinks the correct actions of Enterprise should have been, but to take into account who was serving as her Captain at the time: his friend, Captain Kirk. I think Mr. Spock knew that Captain Kirk would blend his own moral authority with his crew, his emotional connection to the stranded shuttlecraft, and his own keen grasp of reasoning to extend his search as long as he could. I think Mr. Spock risked all of the surviving shuttle crew’s lives on it – and he was right.

Three stars.


Come join us watching the next episode tonight at 8:30 PM (Eastern and Pacific), apparently starring Liberace!

Here's the invitation!



[January 10, 1967] Return to sender (February 1967 Galaxy)


by Gideon Marcus

President Johnson commissioned noted (and favorite of our editor, Janice) artist Peter Hurd to draw his official Presidential portrait.  This was the result:

Reportedly, upon seeing the painting, Johnson described it as the ugliest thing he had ever seen.  Aghast, the artist asked what the President had wanted in a portrait.  Lyndon whipped out this piece painted by Normal Rockwell:

I understand that Hurd returned his commission and that a new picture will be made.  Maybe by someone with the initials L.B.J.

Law of Analogy


by Jack Gaughan

It was certainly a blow to the shocked Hurd, but I kind of know how Lyndon felt.  I had a similar reaction upon finising the latest issue of Galaxy.  This was, for the most part, not the magazine I was hoping for.

Our Man in Peking, by Hayden Howard


by Jack Gaughan

Yes, as Winter follows Fall, so we have yet another tale in the saga of Dr. West and the half-alien Esks.  Briefly: an alien came to Earth and bred with a local woman.  Her progeny, and their kids, too, all breed humanoids who look like Eskimos, but who mature in three years and give birth in a month.  Twenty years after the first was born, there are now more than a billion of them.  And instead of being stopped or even investigated to any real degree, the governments of the world refuse to see them as anything other than mutant Eskimos, deserving of love, affection, and free food.  The Chinese have welcomed them with open arms to till hitherto unprofitable fields, but Canada, Scandinavia, and other places have also taken them in.

Only one man, the notorious Dr. West, who tried but failed to sterilize the Esks with a tailored plague, will admit the true menace of the Esks.

Last installment, West was in a comfy Canadian prison for his attempted genocide.  In this one, he has been sent on a mission to Red China, brainwashed to learn the details on an as-needed basis, mind-controlled to have no say in his actions.  He is shot down over the mainland along with an Air Force Major so caricatured in his manner that I wondered if Gaughan's art would depict him with straw coming out of his joints.

After much rigamarole, West finds himself in the presence of the current Communist leader, Mao III (do the Chinese give descendants appellations like that?) And then the true nature of West's mission is revealed…

Hayden Howard really isn't a very good writer, and there aren't actually any characters in this story–only marionettes who dance to the author's strings without any will of their own.  I also could have done without the word "Chink" used a couple dozen times.

What keeps the tale from getting just one star is this morbid fascination with how this wholly unrealistic scenario will turn out.  We're supposed to get the conclusion next month.  God willing, that'll be the end of the Esks, one way or another.

Two stars.

Return Match, by Philip K. Dick

The outspacers have gambling casinos across the galaxy.  The only problem?  They tend to be lethal for their patrons.  Joseph Tinbane, a cop for Superior Los Angeles, takes on the aliens' latest contraption: a pinball machine that evolves not only to be unbeatable, but ultimately to attack the player!

Dick's vivid writing is on display here, so there's nothing wrong with the reading.  But the concept is pure fantasy, up to and including the conclusion where Tinbane is menaced by giant pinballs.  I can only imagine that PKD turned on, dropped out, and dashed off this tale before the hallucinations disappeared from his memory.

Three stars.

For Your Information: Who Invented the Crossbow? by Willy Ley

Ley's latest piece is an interesting, but somehow perfunctory piece on the evolution of the crossbow.  A few more pages of Asimov treatment would have helped.

Three stars.

The Last Filibuster, by Wallace West

War between North and South America is averted when the governments of both nations are captured and impressed to do the fighting.

I like the sentiment: politicians would be a lot less willing to send their sons (and daughters) to war if their lives were on the line.  But the story is just sort of silly and obvious.

Besides, who could believe that an armed mob could invade the Capitol to kidnap Congress?  It beggars the imagination.

Two stars.

They Hilariated When I Hyperspaced For Earth, by Richard Wilson


by Vaughn Bodé

The leader of a boring world that has stalled in its progressive mediocrity comes to Earth to steal our Secretary General, an efficient Ugandan who knows how to get things done.  A lot of "comedy" ensues.

Not only is the story a bore, but I can't forgive it for getting "They all Laughed" stuck in my head.

Two stars.

The Trojan Bombardment, by Christopher Anvil

How we defeat an enemy without firing a shot?  Why by shooting shells filled with booze, cigarettes, and sexy ladies at them!  After all, that's what they're really fighting for, isn't it?

Fellow traveler Cora Buhlert recently noted that she can smell a Campbell reject a mile away, and Bombardment is almost assuredly an Anvil story too stupid even for Analog.

One star.

The Discovery of the Nullitron, by Thomas M. Disch and John Sladek

Speaking of stupid, here's another "funny" piece, in the style of a Scientific American article, on the new decidedly supra-atomic particle called the Nullitron, putatively discovered by the authors after a jag in Ibiza.

One star.

Thus We Frustrate Charlemagne, by R. A. Lafferty

A dozen of the Earth's greatest scientists team up with a computer to improve history.  Their first time traveling target: to salvage relations between Charlemagne and the Caliph, allowing Arabic knowledge to flow freely.  They will know that they have succeeded because all of their records will change before their eyes!

Of course, if they had read William Tenn's The Brooklyn Project, they'd know that, as part of the time stream themselves, they'd never know what had changed.

Still, it's kind of a fun piece.  The journey's the thing, not the destination.

Three stars.

The Palace of Love (Part 3 of 3), by Jack Vance


by Gray Morrow

The saving grace of this magazine is this final installment of Vance's latest serial.  Keith Gersen has tracked down Viole Falushe, one of the five "Demon Kings" crime lords who killed his parents, to the mobster's private domain.  The Palace of Love is a mystical retreat, designed to provide pleasure to discerning patrons.  But its staff and denizens are all slaves of Falushe, though they aren't completely aware of the fact.

Half of this last act involves the long, meandering road to Falushe's Palace of Love.  It is only in the final sixth that we learn the truth about the place, who Drusilla is and her relation to Falushe's object of childhood infatuation, Jheral Tinzy, and whether or not Gersen can succeed in his revenge.

I found it all gripping stuff.  Vance has a knack for sensual writing; you always know what things smell like, what color they are, how they sound.  Yet the prose is never overlabored.  If the first book in the series starts auspiciously and ends with a dull thud, this second one only has one slow patch, in its second sixth.

For that reason, I give this installment and the book as a whole four stars, and it'll be in the running for the Galactic Star at the end of the year.

Summing up

Even with Palace shoring things up, this month's Galaxy clocks in at a dismal 2.4 stars.  And given that the Vance is likely to end up published in paperback, it's probably not even worth buying this mag for the one story (unless, of course, you want the serial complete in original form).

I'll be surprised if Galaxy doesn't come in last this month.  I'll also be really disappointed in that event; I don't think I could easily face another, worse slog!

That would truly be the ugliest month I've ever seen…





[January 8, 1967] So-So Historical, Delightful Doctor (Doctor Who: The Highlanders)


By Jessica Holmes

Happy new year, everyone! The last year of Doctor Who brought us some pretty big changes. Companions came and went, there was a musical episode (please tell me I didn’t hallucinate that), and we even saw a change of Doctor. Where shall we go next, I wonder?

The first story of the year (and the last of last year) is The Highlanders (written by Elwyn Jones and Gerry Davis), a historical tale set in… well, the Highlands of Scotland, funnily enough. Lovely place, though perhaps not so lovely in the time period of the story, 1746, at the tail end of the Jacobite rebellion.

SOME HALF-REMEMBERED HISTORY

How to quickly sum up the Jacobite uprising? Once upon a time, there was a king of England and Scotland called James. James II/VII if we’re being precise. James wasn’t very popular for complicated religious and political reasons, so he lost his job. He did at least get to keep his head, which is more than a lot of deposed monarchs can say. A few years down the line, his grandson Charles Edward Stuart, a.k.a. ‘Bonnie Prince Charlie’ started an uprising to reclaim the throne for his father, with the support of the Highland clans of Scotland. It did not go well. The British crushed Bonnie Prince Charlie’s army at the Battle of Culloden, and that was the end of that.

Here we pick up just after that fateful battle, when the dust is still settling…

EPISODE ONE

The Doctor and his companions arrive amidst the aftermath of the Battle of Culloden, where they almost immediately get themselves captured by a couple of Highlanders. The Highlanders bring them to a cottage, where they’re hiding with their wounded Laird (the Scottish equivalent of a Lord, played by Donald Bisset). These are Jamie McCrimmon (Frazer Hines), the Laird’s piper, and Alexander, the Laird’s son, who dies about five minutes in so we don’t need to waste any more words on him.

The Highlanders, believing the Doctor and company to be English spies, are about to kill them all when the Laird’s daughter Kirsty (Hannah Gordon) intervenes, hoping that the Doctor can help heal her father. The men are reluctant, until Ben snatches up a gun and threatens to finish the old man off if they won’t let the Doctor help.

Interesting bedside manner.

Polly disarms the Scots and goes off with Kirsty to fetch water, and then Ben proves himself to be absolutely rubbish at gun safety. This being the period where guns were just as likely to blow up in your face as they were to actually shoot your target, he accidentally makes it go off, attracting the attention of some nearby Redcoats, led by Lieutenant Algernon Ffinch (Michael Elwyn). Yes, two Fs.

The Redcoats burst in, killing the Laird’s son, and the Doctor has a brief panic over what nationality to fake to maximise his chances of survival, eventually settling on a terrible German accent. He introduces himself as Doktor Von Wer. Doctor Who? Yes, exactly.

Unfortunately, the Redcoats are going to kill them all anyway.

Elsewhere, a well-dressed figure surveys the battleground. This is solicitor Grey (David Garth), and his part in all this is his scheme to ship the survivors off to the colonies and sell them into slavery.

Charming chap.

On their way back from fetching water, the women spot the Redcoats preparing the gallows for their prisoners. Polly lobs a stone at them, attracting their attention. Rumour has it that the Prince has escaped in the guise of a woman, so Ffinch decides to pursue them.

Luckily for the prisoners, Grey soon arrives to put a halt to the hanging. In addition to being very dodgy, he’s also the commissioner of prisons, and has the paperwork to give him charge over all rebel prisoners.

And also money. Money helps.

Still pursued by Ffinch, Polly and Kirsty hide in a cave Kirsty’s clan uses for cattle-raiding. While deciding what to do, there’s a bit of tension when Kirsty balks at the idea of selling her father’s ring in order to buy supplies. Polly turns a little nasty, and Kirsty responds by pulling a knife on her. Have they checked that this ring isn’t holding the essence of some ancient evil that corrupts all who attempt to possess it? Just a thought.

Calling her a stupid peasant (manners, that’s the daughter of a Laird you’re talking to!), Polly goes off in a huff, and promptly falls into an animal trap. Serves her right for being rude if you ask me.

EPISODE TWO

In trying to help Polly out of the pit, Kirsty falls in too, and it’s not long before Ffinch catches up to them. After Kirsty gets a bit of sulking out of her system, she and Polly manage to lure Ffinch into the pit and rob him of his pistol and his money.

Polly and Kirsty blackmail Ffinch into helping them, given that it would be a bit of a setback for his career if his commanding officer was to find out that he got captured and robbed by a couple of girls.

Meanwhile in Inverness, the Doctor and company are languishing in a rather wet gaol. Everyone’s thoroughly miserable, except for the Doctor, who is starting to enjoy himself. The Doctor treats the Laird’s injury, though he has to invent some quackery to prevent the Scots calling his credentials as a physician into question. While doing so, he discovers that the Laird is carrying the Prince’s personal standard, and he holds on to it for safekeeping.

And then something truly horrible happens.

I can hardly bear to write it.

…He pulls out the recorder.

The rebels start singing along to the Doctor’s tune, attracting the attention of the guard. The Doctor, claiming to be a loyal subject of the King, demands to be taken to Grey.

Grey is a little busy at the moment, conspiring with an unsavoury fellow by the name of Trask (Dallas Cavell) to smuggle the prisoners aboard his vessel, there to be delivered to the Caribbean. Once Trask leaves, the Doctor baits the greedy Grey with the Prince’s standard, claiming he can help him track the rogue royal down and claim the bounty. Grey lets his guard down, and the Doctor wastes no time in relieving him of his weapon, and using the flag to gag him for good measure.

People are very careless in this story—always losing their guns.

Grey’s clerk, Perkins (Sydney Arnold), arrives a short time later, but the Doctor is able to distract and pacify him with some free medical care. He’s very attentive, asking the poor chap—between slamming the man’s head against the desk—if he happens to suffer from headaches.

On the one hand, I want to complain at this feeling grossly out of character for the typically non-violent Doctor. The days of trying to bash in people’s heads with rocks are long behind him.

On the other hand… it’s funny.

It’s really, really funny.

After committing assault and battery, the Doctor moves on to nick some food from the scullery, and then (as one does) dresses like an old woman. While in disguise, he spots the prisoners being escorted out and down to the jetty. There’s not much he can do about it yet, so poor Ben and Jamie have no choice but to board the waiting ship…and the only way off is in a shroud.

EPISODE THREE

Down in the hold of the ship, the other prisoners don’t take too kindly to Ben’s English accent, until the Laird intervenes on his behalf.

Meanwhile, Polly and Kirsty get themselves some new clothes and oranges so that they can pose as orange sellers. The Doctor spots them at the inn, but before he can make contact with them, the Sergeant from the earlier group of Redcoats also recognises them, and it’s only with Ffinch’s begrudging assistance that they manage to get away.

Ffinch points them in the direction of Grey, but as it turns out he’s busy giving the prisoners a choice about how they’d like to spend the rest of their lives: as a snitch, a slave, or at the end of a rope.

Ben tears up the contract, forcing Grey to go and get a new one, and earning him a nasty bang on the head.

At the inn, the girls are about ready to leave, but Grey’s clerk has found them, and he’s proving hard to shake. It seems that there’s more to this fool than meets the eye.

Luckily, there’s a friendly old wench nearby with a stolen gun.

The Doctor leaves with the girls, warning Perkins not to follow.

Don’t worry—the gun isn’t actually loaded. I think that would be a step too far. The Doctor and the girls discuss how to go ahead with rescuing their friends, but first things first, the Doctor wants a nap.

I think he’d better make it a quick one. Grey and Trask are almost ready to leave, but there’s a troublesome Englishman to be dealt with first.

One quick nap later, the Doctor’s gone and robbed the arsenal, and also realises something about that probably evil ring of Kirsty’s. It’s actually the Prince’s ring! Better than that, it’s bait.

The Doctor had best make haste, because Trask has just tied Ben up and chucked him into the sea. Ben had better be good at holding his breath.

EPISODE FOUR

Trask throws Ben overboard, but when the time comes to haul him back up, there’s nobody on the end of the rope. Ben’s a regular Houdini!

As he catches his breath on the shore, he gets accosted by an English sentry…or so he thinks. Yes, it’s the Doctor in yet another disguise. I think he’s really enjoying himself.

The group come up with a plan to rescue the Highlanders—though the women have to fight to be included.

On a stolen boat, Ben delivers the Doctor to the ship, where he adopts his Doktor von Wer ruse again. He shows Grey the Prince’s ring, and tells him he’s discovered the Prince is hidden among the Highlanders on the ship. Apparently Grey’s brain turns off when he sees something potentially valuable and shiny. He takes the bait, allowing the Doctor to lead him down into the hold…

Where the prisoners are all pretending to be asleep, Polly and Kirsty having handed them weapons through the porthole.

A lengthy fight ensues, with Jamie throwing Trask overboard in the ruckus. Trask’s crew surrender following the loss of their captain, and Grey and Perkins give themselves up.

Perkins is most certainly not a fool, and his desire not to go to prison outweighs any loyalty to (or fear of) Grey. As he happens to speak the language, he offers to join the Highlanders as they escape to France (a long-time ally of Scotland, and a supporter of the Jacobite cause).

Grey doesn’t take it well.

As the Highlanders sail off into the fog, Jamie accompanies the Doctor and company as they begin making their way back to the TARDIS (with Grey as a hostage). Unfortunately Grey escapes on the way, and the group needs another hostage to get past the English guards.

Poor Ffinch. This really isn’t his day, is it?

On their merry way once again, the group inform Ffinch of Grey’s nefarious dealings. However, they arrive back at the Laird’s home to find that Grey has beaten them to it, and he’s got some soldiers with him.

Grey claims that the whole business with transporting the prisoners was perfectly legal, but surprise, surprise, he can’t produce the appropriate paperwork. An outraged Ffinch orders him arrested, and it seems all’s well that ends well.

But what happened to the contracts Grey made the prisoners sign? That’s easy. The Doctor nicked them.

Having nowhere else to go, Jamie joins the TARDIS crew, and off they go, on to the next adventure.

Final Thoughts

Something that struck me about this serial is how violent it is for Doctor Who. We’ve got Ben holding people at gunpoint, Polly committing armed robbery, the Doctor himself getting his hands dirty, plus all the inherent violence of the setting. I am in two minds about all this. I had always liked how the Doctor and company usually solve their problems with their wits rather than with their fists. It’s a much better example to set for the children.

Oh, dear. I must be getting old.

On the other hand, I cannot stress enough how funny Troughton is. I can’t very well wag my finger when I’m too busy rolling on the floor.

Take the scene where the Doctor ‘examines’ Perkins’ head. Played straight, it would be a horrible act of violence, but the thing to bear in mind is that Troughton doesn’t drop the absurd faux-German accent throughout the entire spectacle. The dialogue and comic timing are impeccable, though they feel like they came from a different script altogether. It’s like the Doctor is in a different serial to everyone else. To be clear, I like the Doctor’s side of things a lot better. The rest of the serial is mostly just stuff I have to watch to get back to whatever funny thing the Doctor is doing.

The humour in itself is a problem, however. Don’t get me wrong, I like it and I wish more of the serial was this funny– but it creates a real tone problem. It’s something we’ve seen before, and the historical stories tend to be particularly prone to this tonal issue. On the one hand, they contain some of the most sinister subject matter in Doctor Who (slavery, civil war, murder), but on the other they’re often dotted with moments of incongruous humour. Or just plain WEIRD stuff like musical narration.

Still, it’s an enjoyable enough serial, and it’s fairly interesting, plot-wise. It’s rather light on the educational content and historical context, but as I think I probably said the last time we had a historical story, this programme has long since given up any pretense of trying to teach children anything. Jamie seems like a nice chap, and he’s certainly very capable, so I’m sure he’ll do well in the TARDIS. Hopefully we won’t have another Katarina situation. I wonder where they’ll end up next?

My rating: 3 out of 5 stars




[January 6, 1967] Happy Anniversary (February 1967 Amazing)


by John Boston

January 6!  A portentous anniversary!  On this day in 1838, Samuel Morse publicly demonstrated the telegraph, sending a message two miles; and in 1912, German geophysicist Alfred Wegener announced his theory of the continental drift, to much skepticism until very recently.


by Arnold Kahn

The February 1967 Amazing is here too, in a burst of bright yellow surrounding a glum-looking guy who seems to have a head problem.  The table of contents captions Arnold Kahn’s cover as Slaves of the Crystal Brain; research reveals it first appeared as the cover of the May 1950 Amazing, where the head was bordered in black rather than yellow.  It is hard to imagine why anyone thought the change to be an improvement.  However, the subject’s disgruntled expression so acutely characterizes the issue that I fear my comments may be superfluous.

Born Under Mars (Part 2 of 2), by John Brunner

The prolific and versatile John Brunner has provided us with such thoughtful works as The Whole Man and such well-turned entertainments as Echo in the SkullBorn Under Mars, unfortunately, is neither, though it might be viewed as a caricature of both, with an overstuffed action plot against a background of Big Thinks that seem to have been drawn with a crayon.


by Gray Morrow

In the future, Earth has established interstellar colonies, their nations and residents known as Centaurs and Bears respectively.  Mars, earlier colonized, has become unfashionable and neglected in this new and larger configuration, and its inhabitants are a bit resentful about it.  These include Ray Mallin, a space engineer who has just returned to Mars on a Centaur ship, only to find himself kidnapped and tortured with a nerve whip to obtain information he does not have about the ship he arrived on. 

There ensues much to-ing and fro-ing as Mallin tries to find out what is going on, including reliance on outrageous coincidence: Mallin, at the Old Temple containing ancient Martian artifacts, pushes on a random spot on the wall, which opens to reveal the room where he was nerve-whipped, along with one of the perpetrators.  He returns the favor of torture and interrogation but his former tormentor knows nothing. 

Eventually Mallin corners his old mentor Thoder and the Big Thinks begin to emerge.  Humanity is stagnating, with no major scientific breakthroughs for a couple of centuries, and needs to get a lot smarter.  How?  They don’t really know, but “a pair of strongly opposed societies was devised: the Bears, happy-go-lucky, casual, living life as it came, and the Centaurs, thinking hard about everything and especially about their descendants.” In effect they are trying eugenics by bank shot: creating societies to order to see if either one of them breeds—literally—the intellectual superpeople who are needed (i.e., those who have “a talent—extra psychological muscle if you like”). 

And who contrived all this, and how did they manage to keep it secret, and what rational basis is there to believe that anyone can create societies to order and have them stick to the program for the generations necessary for this project?  How is manipulating social arrangements and behavior going to jump-start human heredity?  Is Lamarck consulting on this project?  There’s no pretense of an explanation; these large concepts are merely brandished like slogans on placards.

But—the author asserts—it’s worked!  Six generations early, in fact, unto the Centaurs is born an infant who will have “an IQ at the limits of the measurable, empathy topping 2000, Weigand scale, and virtually every heritable talent from music to mathematics, all transmissible to his descendants!” And he’s here!  He’s, as Hitchock would put it, the macguffin everyone has been chasing after, torturing Mallin en passant because this miracle child, kidnapped, was brought to Mars on the ship Mallin rode on. 

So what’s the plan?  Educate him on Mars.  “Then, when he’s grown, to use the random mixing of genetic lines available in Bear society to spread a kind of ferment through half the human race.” In other words, this kid is intended to grow up to be a playboy in interstellar Bohemia, and that’s how humanity will be transformed.

But wait—now somebody has snatched the kid away from the people who snatched the kid!  More hurly-burly ensues, along with more elevated yakety-yak, and in the last 20 pages a Girl emerges for the hero to get.  And there’s a redeeming note: she wants to know what the hell all these people are doing treating an infant like nothing but an object to be manipulated, which doesn’t seem to have occurred to anyone previously.

Born Under Mars is another of many examples of pseudo-profundity in SF: the semblance of large ideas waved around without the author’s doing the work of thinking them through and making them plausible, or abandoning them when their implausibility becomes obvious.  Brunner is certainly not the only offender of this sort, but he seems sufficiently capable that I expected better of him.

Bah, humbug.  Oh, wait, that was last month.  Two stars, mainly for effort.

Tumithak of the Corridors, by Charles R. Tanner

“Special,” says the cover, about Charles R. Tanner’s Tumithak of the Corridors—a “complete novel” at 56 pages per the table of contents.  The interior blurb calls it “as good as early Wells, as fresh as the latest Zelazny.” And indeed this story, from the January 1932 Amazing, does have a certain reputation among older fans.


by Leo Morey

It seems that humans made it to Venus, whose inhabitants, called shelks for no reason I can discern, had no idea there was anything outside their eternal clouds.  But once they found out, they proceeded straightway to build their own space fleet (“All over the planet, the great machine-shops hummed and clattered”) to invade Earth.  Earth responded by creating great underground fastnesses, full of corridors of sorts, and after losing the war, humans fled into their deepest recesses and regressed to ignorance and barbarism.  But—of course—one brave young man will not accept humanity’s fate.  He has found an old book that recounts the history of the shelks’ invasion, and he is going to find his way the surface to kill a shelk!

This mass of cliches actually turns into a pretty good old-fashioned story.  Tanner’s style is clear and uncluttered.  Tumithak is presented as heroic but not superhuman.  His odyssey through the corridors, including the territories of other human tribes (one of them not too friendly), manages not to become any more ridiculous than the starting premises, except for a portion towards the end in the territory of the Esthetts (sic!) which is all right because it’s purposefully satirical.  Altogether, the story is a fairly charming relic.  Three stars, and by the standards of its times it would merit more.

Methuselah, Ltd., by Wallace West and Richard Barr

Methuselah, Ltd. (from Fantastic, November-December 1953), is as you might guess about immortality, or its absence.  In the future, disease, disability, and aging have been conquered by the Life Ray, but people still die around age 90.  Dr. Weinkopf, age 88, would like to do something about this, and he thinks it has something to do with the pineal gland, and with “brain sand”—calcareous salts with a “concentric laminated structure” found in the brain after death, it says here.  Surgery has been made illegal, but there is an underground Society for the Preservation of Surgical Techniques that performs operations in speakeasy fashion before an audience of sadists.  Dr. Weinkopf hopes to piggyback on a brain tumor operation to remove the pineal and dig out the brain sand.  But the patient, hearing talk of this plan, chickens out and leaves.  By the rules of the Society, the jilted surgeon must be subjected to surgery himself, so the doctor chooses to have his nurse do the surgery on him, with predictable bad end looming as the story ends.  This is apparently intended as a sort of farcical black comedy, but it’s not especially funny and is just as big a mess as my description suggests.  The authors should improve their farce technique by studying the works of Ron Goulart—not the kind of sentence I ever expected to write.  One star.

The Man with Common Sense, by Edwin James


by Leo Morey

The other reprinted short story, from the July 1950 Amazing, is The Man with Common Sense, by Edwin James, an early pseudonym of James E. Gunn.  It’s another dreary farce, though better-wrought than Methuselah, Ltd.  Malachi Jones is a “dapper, wizened little man” equipped with cane and derby hat who is an interstellar insurance agent for Lairds of Luna.  Lairds has issued a policy guaranteeing peace on Mizar II, and Jones is there to make sure Lairds doesn’t have to pay off.  He tames the planet’s rebels and makes peace in the accidental company of one Rand Ridgeway, who is distinguished mainly by his stupidity (en route, he takes his shoes off and forgets to put them back on).  Two stars, barely.  Here’s another case for Ron Goulart.

Two Days Running and Then Skip a Day, by Ron Goulart


by Gray Morrow

Speaking of Ron Goulart, here is the man himself, with the issue’s only new short story, Two Days Running and Then Skip a Day.  Goulart has been on a tear about the medical profession for a while; see his Calling Dr. Clockwork in the March 1965 Amazing, about a man who winds up in the hospital and then can’t get out, and Terminal, in the May 1965 Fantastic, about a nursing home system designed mainly to get rid of the troublesome elderly and the even more troublesome investigators.  Here, Goulart tees off, or I should say flails in all directions, against celebrity doctors who can’t be bothered with their patients, robot assistants of dubious competence, modern apartments and appliances that are badly built, sleazy landlords, and I probably missed something.  It’s insubstantial but amusing, which seens to sum this writer up, and to compare favorably with Gunn and West/Barr, whose entries are merely insubstantial.  Three stars, barely.

Summing Up

As I said at the beginning, the expression on the cover acutely captures the contents of the issue, and requires no elaboration.


by Arnold Kahn (detail)



[Come join us at Portal 55, Galactic Journey's real-time lounge! Talk about your favorite SFF, chat with the Traveler and co., relax, sit a spell…]




[January 4, 1967] Six Impossible Things Before Breakfast (Star Trek: Shore Leave)


by Erica Frank

We join the Enterprise on Stardate 3025. The crew has had a rough few months and desperately needs some downtime. Fortunately, they have found what seems to be an ideal uninhabited planet for shore leave.

While the planet seems almost fairy-tale idyllic, with open meadows and pastoral lakes and meandering paths, it is soon clear that something strange is afoot. McCoy sees what he is sure is a hallucination: A man-sized rabbit holding a pocketwatch, muttering "I'm late" before hopping out of sight.


Not what we expected on an alien planet.

But the scan results are clear: No animal life found on the planet. No birds, no mammals, no insects.

Nobody asks why there are paths through the woods and around the lake, if there are no creatures to make them. Nobody asks why there are tree stumps. Nobody asks what's pollinating the flowers. …Nobody notices the antenna that tracks their movements.

A Grin Without a Cat

They split up to investigate, and Kirk finds someone who cannot possibly be here: Finnegan, a fellow he knew from the Academy. Finnegan was a practical joker who targeted Kirk all the time.


He looks like a fun fellow. (This looks like the ship's uniforms, but it's sparkling silver. How many outfits does Starfleet have?)

Finnegan immediately throws a punch at the Captain, but their fight is cut short when other crew members are in danger—Kirk rushes off to protect Barrows from Don Juan. Then Sulu gets chased by a samurai while the other team hides from a tiger. Spock beams down into this mess, and they discover their phasers aren't working and communications are down: they'll have to deal with the planet's problems on their own.

McCoy decides, "This is all hallucinations," and gets himself stabbed by a charging knight. It seems McCoy has forgotten every hallucination-inflicting alien they've encountered so far, starting with the salt vampire: The lance may be a hallucination, but the damage is real. If he thinks it's all hallucinations, why did he encourage Yeoman Barrows to swap her uniform for the princess dress they found? Is he happily imagining that she's actually wandering around naked?

While the team looks for answers, Finnegan reappears. Kirk, never one to skip out on a fight, chases him. Finnegan is tricky and tough, but Kirk refuses to give up.


I like Finnegan. He can punch the shirt off strapping young captains.

Kirk fights better once his shirt is torn. (I think Kirk gets special tear-away uniforms to enhance his fighting skills.) He eventually overcomes Finnegan, as he never could as a student, and grins. Spock, bemused that Kirk enjoyed the fight, realizes what's happening: Something is reading their thoughts and providing them the exact experiences they're seeking, even if those are dangerous.

They need to warn the others and figure out how to stop it. But first: They must escape the tiger and an airstrike! (Did the producers just have some airstrike footage they wanted to use? The samurai wasn't dangerous enough?) Kirk and Spock dodge for shelter together, pulling each other to safety as they dodge dangers from land and sky.


I'm sure this embrace was very relevant to the plot.

The surviving crew members meet back at the Glade. A very angry Kirk demands they stand at attention, not even thinking, while he looks around for… something, someone.

A man in a green robe walks out to greet them. He's the caretaker of this place, a kind of amusement park: Anything you imagine can be your exciting adventure here.

Kirk points out that adventures are substantially less fun when people die—but it turns out nobody is dead; McCoy was healed in their underground facilities. No harm done, all in good fun, and so on.


The druidic version of Mr. Green Jeans remains nameless.

Kirk asks the caretaker who his people are, but he demurs: "Your race is not yet ready to understand us." However, he welcomes them to enjoy the planet. With communications restored, Kirk orders the other teams to beam down for their shore leave.

This was a delightful episode. I believe this is the first time we've encountered godlike telepathic and technological powers that are not used to threaten and control people.

I hope to see more aliens like this, an advanced race that uses its abilities for peaceful, benevolent purposes. They aren't going to share their technology with still-warlike humans, but they open their vacation resort to those who need a break from their busy lives.

Five stars. Fun to watch, a return of Shirtless Kirk, and an immensely satisfying conclusion.


“Drink Me”


by Janice L. Newman

This was a fun and rollicking episode. At the same time, I found it unsettling.

In order for the story to work, the crew have to behave in ways that are out of character for a military crew. Not only do they not seem to notice the discrepancies Erica noted above, but they allow themselves to be distracted, separated, and discombobulated throughout the story. When Kirk meets his childhood sweetheart, he can’t take his eyes off her, unable to finish his sentences even as he’s having an important conversation with a member of his crew. Yeoman Barrows has no hesitation about changing into a fairy-tale dress she randomly finds, and McCoy has no hesitation in urging her to do it. When Sulu finds a gun under a rock, he picks it up and starts firing it.

These are not the actions of trained specialists.

The only thing that really makes sense is to assume that the planet has a built-in relaxing effect on the mind. Whether there’s some sort of drug in the air or something even more sophisticated — perhaps some sort of ray along the lines of what we saw in “Dagger of the Mind”, except this one causes mild euphoria instead of forgetfulness — it’s a little disturbing.

It’s perfectly logical that such a planet might have “something in the air” intended to help its visitors let go of their cares and worries. The people and things they encounter aren’t real, after all, and this might have a dampening effect if one thinks about it too hard (Kirk’s first love was nothing but a complex robot, yet even knowing this, he doesn’t hesitate to take his own shore leave at the end of the episode, very clearly looking forward to enjoying her charms). Some kind of ‘euphoria effect’ that helps the attendees of this planet-sized amusement park suspend disbelief in order to enjoy themselves seems almost a necessity.

However, the crew encounters and is influenced by whatever it is without any chance to say ‘no, thank you’. Even at the end, Kirk tells the Enterprise to start beaming people down, presumably with the intent of informing them of what kind of planet it is, but never mentions the euphoria effect. Do the crew even realize their minds have been affected? Will they recognize it after they leave?

As someone who values her ability to think in a straight line, I found the idea of being drugged without my knowledge disconcerting at best, and outright violative at worst. Not to mention, we don’t know how far the effect goes. Could it become addictive over time? Could it have other long-term consequences?

The existence of the euphoria effect is all extrapolation anyway, so maybe it shouldn’t bother me so much. But the alternative, that the crew just behaved unprofessionally and out-of-character for no reason at all, is even worse! Either way, it knocked the episode down for me a little, bringing it to three and a half stars.


”Pleasure Planet”


by Tam Phan (Secret Asian Man)

When we think of science fiction, we don’t often consider what entertainment will look like in the future. Our technology is so advanced that it’s hard to imagine what we might be able to accomplish in our lifetimes, let alone in the distant future–and so often, science fiction focuses on the advanced ways we might harm each other. But how about how we might please each other, or ourselves? Color television is the pinnacle of modern entertainment, and it seems that, in every episode, with marvelous plots and better special effects, Star Trek keeps pushing those boundaries.
“Shore Leave” conceives an entirely new level of entertainment.

Currently, Disneyland is the only thing that comes close, and if you’ve ever had the chance to visit, you’ll understand the boldness of that statement. But where Disneyland brings one man's imagination to life (that of Walt Disney, sadly gone from this world as of last month), "Shore Leave" presents an entire planet designed to grant your every wish. Maybe calling that an amusement park is an understatement, but there’s no better way to describe the way my head is still spinning with all the things that I would love to do if granted that opportunity.

Though, with all its ability, it seemed that the planet required a bit of suspension of disbelief on the part of the participants to be fully engaged. Maybe the planet was causing the landing crew to be less restrained. It’s not too much of a stretch to believe that the planet was also able to put people’s minds at ease. The vision is really what’s important. The point was to create a pleasure planet, and they accomplished that.

We, the audience, know that it’s not real. Even the emotional McCoy eventually determined that it wasn’t. It didn't keep him from being run through with a lance, but that’s beside the point. Of course, McCoy wasn’t permanently harmed in the process of fulfilling any fantasies, but he also couldn't fully enjoy himself until he let go of his inhibitions. It wasn’t until Kirk gave into his desire to “beat the tar out of Finnegan” that he was able to take full advantage of the planet’s capabilities. It was never made clear as to why the crew was acting a bit strange, but maybe this is just a reminder that suspending my own disbelief might make this a more enjoyable experience.

If entertainment comes anywhere close to this in the future, we’re in for a treat. Until then, I’m looking forward to the next episode of Star Trek on my color television.

Four stars.


Getting to know you


by Gideon Marcus

We've gotten hints of Captain Kirk's background before "Shore Leave"–we knew he was a stack of books with legs in his Academy days.  That he almost married a blonde woman Gary Mitchell steered his way.  And that he suffered on Tarsus IV under the iron hand of Governor Kodos. But for the most part, the history of James Kirk has been a mystery.

In one swell foop, we get confirmation that Kirk was "positively grim", we learn that he once deeply loved an older woman (the "blonde"?), that he was hounded by an upperclassman named Finnegan.  We also find out that the Captain enjoys an occasional Vulcanian backrub; I imagine Spock has special nerve pinches for tight lumbars.

Also fleshed out is McCoy, who finally gets to carouse after his traumatic "reunification" with a former flame back in "The Man Trap".  The doctor is quite charming, really, and I can see why he caught the eye of Yeoman Barrows (though I have to wonder if this relationship would have been kindled elsewhere than in the befuddling airs of the Shore Leave planet).

And finally, we're learning something about the universe as a whole.  There are three types of science fiction universe: those with lots of aliens, those with few aliens, and those with only humans.  Star Trek clearly takes place in the first of those types of settings.  We have seen almost as many races as we've watched episodes.  Most of them are indistinguishable from humans, but the Talosians, Vulcanians, Romulans and Thasians make clear that there are far out aliens as well.

So numerous are the aliens, and so familiar are the forms of many of them, that I suspect there will be some kind of explanation for the phenomenon.  "Miri" already has suggested one.  I look forward to the revelation when it happens.

In any event, a poll of our usual watching crew has elicited a wide range of appraisals for "Shore Leave", from 3 to 5.  For myself, there was never a moment I was not thoroughly enjoying the episode.

Five stars.


And come join us watching the next episode tomorrow at 8:30 PM (Eastern and Pacific):

Here's the invitation!



[January 2, 1967] Different perspectives (February 1967 IF)


by David Levinson

We all know the adage about walking a mile in someone else’s shoes. Trying to see the world through others’ eyes is a good way to understand them, and that can help ease tensions and make it easier to find compromises. Of course, it’s also possible to come up with some pretty ridiculous ideas about the way other people think.

Failures of diplomacy

At the end of 1965, I wrote about the troubles in the British colony of Rhodesia. The white minority government refuses to consider the idea of granting equal rights or a role in government to Black Rhodesians. Early in December, British Prime Minister Harold Wilson, Rhodesian Prime minister Ian Smith, and ousted Rhodesian Governor General Humphrey Gibbs met aboard the HMS Tiger to try to hash out a solution. Smith left with a proposal he seemed willing to accept, but rejected it out of hand as soon as he returned to Salisbury. In response on December 16th, the United Nations Security Council approved an oil embargo and economic sanctions against Rhodesia 11-0, with France, the Soviet Union, Mali and Bulgaria abstaining. Four days later, Wilson withdrew all offers and announced that the United Kingdom would only accept a Black majority government. On the 22nd, as the trade ban was about to go into effect, Smith declared that the U. N. had forced Rhodesia out of British control and out of the British Commonwealth, making the country an independent republic by default.

Bechuanaland to Rhodesia's south may have peacefully become Botswana last year, but it seems that most of southern Africa is ready to go up in flames. While dealing with the condemnation of the rest of the world, the Smith government is also fighting two Black nationalist movements. Meanwhile, armed resistance is developing against South Africa’s illegal control of South West Africa, and armed independence movements are appearing in the Portuguese overseas provinces of Angola and Mozambique (formerly Portuguese West and East Africa respectively). If any of these embers becomes a conflagration, it’s hard to see how this won’t also spill over into South Africa as well.


Wilson returns with what looked like an acceptable deal, but Smith swiftly vetoed it.

Through alien eyes

John Campbell supposedly said he wanted someone to write an alien that “thinks as well as a man, but not like a man.” At least one author in this month’s IF makes a pretty good attempt at doing so. Others at least offer characters trying to understand how aliens (and in one case a door) think.


At least they aren’t even pretending this illustrates something in the magazine. Art by Wenzel

The Soft Weapon, by Larry Niven

A dozen years after the discovery that the galactic core is exploding, the mad (not because of his manic-depression, but because he’s courageous) puppeteer Nessus has hired Jason and Anne-Marie Papandreou, who operate the passenger ship Court Jester, to take him to see the Outsiders in deep space. While concluding his unspecified business, Nessus has also purchased a stasis box, an item potentially containing a piece of technology from the long-gone Slaver empire. On the way back, Jay decides to make a detour to Beta Lyrae, hoping the sight will snap Nessus out of his funk.

There, they fall into the clutches of the kzinti Chuft-Captain and the crew of the Traitor’s Claw. Among other things, the box proves to contain a strange device which can change its shape. Some of the settings include a rocket booster and a talking computer, but the device also seems capable of converting matter to usable energy with perfect efficiency. It’s up to Jay to use what he thinks the device is in order to escape with his wife and client and keep a dangerous technology from winding up in the hands of kzinti.


Jay discovers a hidden setting. Art by Gaughan

Niven has given us insight into the kzinti mind before and goes into greater detail here. We also get his speculation on what might be valued in a society of sentients descended from herbivores. The action is done fairly well, we have a female character who isn’t just motivation for the protagonist, and the story flows quite well. This might be the best thing Niven has written yet.

A high four stars.

Gods of Dark and Light, by Bruce McAllister

Gregory Shawn is a member of a religious movement which has come to V-Planet-14 to live according to their own rules. Things aren’t going well. Most of the story consists of Gregory’s prayers as the harsh conditions test and shape the group’s faith. These are interspersed with the prayers of one of the native life forms.

There isn’t much to say about this one. I think McAllister has something he’s trying to say, but it’s not entirely clear. The whole thing is very dark.

Two stars.

Forest in the Sky, by Keith Laumer

The Terran Mission to the planet Zoon is having trouble finding the natives. It turns out the Groaci have beaten the CDT to the punch, though they aren’t doing any better. Once again, it’s Retief to the rescue.


The Terran Mission sets off to look for the local government. Art by Castellon

I noted back in October that Laumer seemed to be having fun with Retief again. That still seems to be the case, but while this is more than just going through the motions, it’s still the same old formula. If you’re new to Retief, this is probably a lot of fun. Otherwise it’s palatable, but more of the same.

A low three stars.

The Fan Awards, by Lin Carter

This month, Our Man in Fandom takes a look at the Hugos. Carter traces the development of the award and tells us a bit about who Hugo was. Next month, he promises to talk about some of the Hugo winners and to look at the new Nebula Awards from the Science Fiction Writers of America.

Three stars.

The Iron Thorn (Part 2 of 4), by Algis Budrys

Hunting his first Amsir, Honor White Jackson learns that his prey is an intelligent being with better technology than his own people have. Eventually, he decides to defect to the Amsir and is taken to their home, a deep bowl filled with dense air and greenery. A vision of his people’s paradise. But paradise it is not. The food of the Amsir is poisonous to humans, and Jackson faces death by starvation. His only hope is to find a way into the Thorn Thing, a short metal tower with a locked door at the top of a ladder. The door instantly destroys any Amsir attempting to go through it after issuing a warning in an unknown language. The only one who can get close is Ahmuls, who is deformed in such a way that he resembles humans more than he does Amsir. If the door likes humans, then presumably there’s something Jackson can eat on the other side. As this installment ends, Jackson convinces the door to open and dives through, followed by Ahmuls and the spears of the Amsir.

To be continued.


Jackson enters the Thorn Thing. Art by Gray Morrow

This story certainly moves fast. Nothing feels as rushed as it did in the first part, but Budrys isn’t wasting any time. I have some suspicions about what’s going on. Much of that will probably be resolved next month, though I have no idea how it will all be wound up.

Three stars.

Confession, by Robert Ray

Father Hume sits on his veranda, waiting for the oppressive heat of an Australian afternoon in the back of beyond to dissipate. He closes his eyes for a moment, but must have nodded off, since there is suddenly a stranger in his back garden. A stranger who would like the Father to hear his confession, but can’t wait until church tomorrow. What Father Hume hears will change his life and, hopefully, the world.

On first reading, this seemed like the sort of story you read, don’t mind and then forget. As I’ve thought about it, though, some other aspects have occurred to me. I can’t really say anything without giving the whole story away and ruining its impact, but it’s a little better than I first credited it.

A solid three stars.

The Evil Ones, by Richard Wilson

Wally Hengsen beat a murder charge with an insanity plea. Now, he’s biding his time until his organization can bust him out. When an alien spaceship lands on the grounds of the rest home, he starts looking for an angle to play, but a reminder of events in New Guinea during the War sets him on a different path.


Hengsen wonders if he really does belong in an asylum. Art by Vaughn Bodé

This is a decent story. It sags in a couple of places, and Hengsen’s change of heart relies so much on a flashback that it feels a little out of place. On the other hand, it does finish strongly, which is probably enough.

Three stars.

The Dangers of Deepspace, by Mather H. Walker

A colonel of the Deepspace service is interviewing a volunteer and seems to be doing his best to discourage the young man from signing up.

Here we have this month’s first-time author. The whole thing is very obvious, doesn’t entirely make sense and isn’t worth your time. The nicest thing I can say is that the prose is serviceable.

Barely two stars.

A Beachhead for Gree, by C. C. MacApp

Steve Duke and friends go behind enemy lines. They make contact with the locals, use a ruse to infiltrate an enemy base and thwart Gree’s plans.


This time the locals are humanoids who can build wings for themselves. Art by Burns.

I’m going to make several carbons of that summary and whenever a Gree story appears, I’ll just cut one out and paste it into my manuscript. Will this interminable series never end?

Two stars.

Summing up

No matter how you look at it, this month’s IF is par for the course. One really good story, some decent stuff and some junk. And as good as it’s been so far, the serial needs to start paying off next month. At least we have the special Hugo edition to look forward to next month. The authors are good, but will they offer up their best stuff?


No mention of Frank Herbert this time. Hmmmm.






[December 31, 1966] Barriers to quality (January 1967 Analog)

[Today is the last day you can sign up for next year's Worldcon if you want to be able to nominate Hugo candidates!  Sign up now!]


by Gideon Marcus

An argument for free trade?

Yesterday, Europe got a bit freer.  The nations of Austria, Denmark, Norway, Portugal, Sweden, Switzerland, and the United Kingdom–along with associate member, Finland, the constituents of the Europen Free Trade Association–removed all tarrifs on industrial goods sold between them.  These countries comprise Europe's "Outer Seven", in contrast to the "Inner Six" of the European Economic Community.  With this move, EFTA's economies may get a competitive boost against the traditional European powerhouses (France, West Germany, Benelux, and Italy).

The SF mag Analog is better suited to the EEC than EFTA.  With editor John Campbell at the helm, who personally reads and approves every item chosen from the slush pile, and who has a distinctive style (to the say the least), the magazine has really gotten itself into a rut.  Sometimes it manages to be good, but more often, as with this month, it's deadly dully.  Read on, and you'll see what I mean.

The issue at hand


by Chesley Bonestell

Supernova, by Poul Anderson


by Kelly Freas

David Falkayn, protegé of Nicholas van Rijn, returns in yet another astronomically interesting but utterly dull adventure.  This time, callow human Falkayn, and his trader team comprising the pacifist buddhist saurian, Adzel, the foul-mouthed racoon, Chee Lan, and the computer, Muddlehead, have visited a world about to be blasted by a nearby supernova.  The planet, at about a Year 2000 level of technology, is riven into several regional powers, and a system-wide crime syndicate has nation-like power.

Falkayn is struggling with determining who their team should work with to build a planetary shield when the decision is taken out of his hands: Chee Lan is abducted by the system's equivalent of the mob.  Falkayn's solution to his dilemma is supposed to be clever, but it feels obvious and uninspired.

Two stars.

A Criminal Act, by Harry Harrison


by Kelly Freas

Here's a piece inspired by the same Malthusian nightmare as the author's hit, Make Room, Make room.  A fellow and his wife have had three kids, one more than the law allows.  As a result, a kill-happy citizen is legally allowed to try to bump the dad off.  It's a duel to the death, either result of which will keep the population stable.

Bob Sheckley could have made this work.  Maybe.  In another magazine.

Two stars.

Bring 'Em Back Alive!, by Lyle R. Hamilton

The nonfiction article this month is about wind tunnels, heat shields, and retrorockets.  Not a bad topic, but Hamilton's overly breezy style doesn't quite work.

Three stars.

Amazon Planet (Part 2 of 3), by Mack Reynolds


by Kelly Freas

Last time around, author Reynolds took us back to the world of the United Planets, a loose galactic confederation of humans in which each planet is allowed whatever government, culture, demographics it likes.  This time, the planet is Amazonia, ruled by women and with the cultural iconography of the famed Greek warrior women.

Guy Thomas was a mild-mannered trade entrepreneur hoping to stoke an iridium/columbum trade between Amazonia and Avalon.  But at the end of the last installment, we discovered he was actually a secret agent.  In Part 2, we find out he's a UP spy, sent when a man from Amazonia made an unprecedented escape from the planet and pleaded for refugee status.  It seems there's a widespread masculine revolutionary movement.

Unfortunately for Thomas, he is quickly captured by the technologically superior Amazons and made to reveal his true identity: he is none other than Ronny Bronston, part of the mysterious Section G, whose explicit purpose is to topple regressive governments–in flagrant violation of the Federation's constitution.  Under truth drugs, Bronston spills the beans.  But before he can give further info, he is rescued by a member of his original escort party, a female soldier who has taken a shine to him.

Out of the frying pan and into the fire!

My nephew continues to rave about this series, whereas I find it mostly an excuse to discuss political theory interspersed with some boilerplate action sequences (which, to be fair, Reynolds has made a good career of).

Barely three stars and sinking.

The Old Shill Game, by H. B. Fyfe


by Kelly Freas

A robovendor is programmed to have an edge on his daily rounds at the concourse.  With the aid of a team of robotic shills, it attracts the attentions of human commuters and makes a killing.  Thus ensues a war between the robovendor's programming team and that of their competitors, each iteration making the android vending machine a bit smarter.

The road to Mike from The Moon is a Harsh Mistress is paved with capitalism.

There's a good idea here, but the execution is a bit muddled and the whole thing just not very satisfying.  Two stars.

The Last Command, by Keith Laumer


by Kelly Freas

From one sapient robot to another: Keith Laumer returns with his answer to Saberhagen's Berserker series, only Laumer's Bolos are tanks rather than ships, and they apparently used to work for people rather than against them.

In this installment, a long-dead machine comes to life deep underground, nearly a century after its last conflict.  Certain that it has been imprisoned by the enemy, it roars to life, slowly making its way toward a city that has sprouted since its deactivation.  An old veteran of the old battle thinks he has the key to stopping this indestructible weapon of war.

It's a bit less polished than previous entries in the series, but I found the end touching.

Three stars.

Doing the math

Running the Star-o-vac, I find Analog scored just 2.5 stars–the worst of the month!  But this has been kind of a lousy month in general, so it's not certain that open trade is the answer.  After all, the British mags, New Worlds (3.3), and Science Fantasy (2.9), are rumored to be on the edge of extinction.  Fantastic (2.6) wasn't good this month, even with decades of reprints available.  IF (2.8) was thoroughly mediocre.  And while I liked Fantasy and Science Fiction (3.2), no one else seems to be enjoying the new serial.

On the other hand, there was exactly one story by a woman this month, and it was one of the best ones.  Maybe, instead of free trade between the current magazine contributors, we need a campaign to tap the as yet fallow resource: women writers.

Crazy, I know, but it's a thought.



[Today is the last day you can sign up for next year's Worldcon if you want to be able to nominate Hugo candidates!  Sign up now!]



[December 28, 1966] Ice Worlds, Telepathic Martian Mice and Echoes (New Worlds and SF Impulse, January 1967)


by Mark Yon

Scenes from England

Hello again!

As we’re in that strange time between post-Christmas and pre-New Year I’m pleased to type that my copies of both New Worlds and SF Impulse have manged to arrive amidst all of the Christmas mail.

Thank you, postie!

And I am pleased that I actually got two magazines. The rumours of the magazines' decline are still about, although I have no further news. I am still hopeful that 1967 will see them continue. More news when I get it.

With that over, let’s start with New Worlds.

A Guest Editorial this month, from Mr. Brian W. Aldiss, no less. Clearly Mike’s taken time off, and Brian has stepped up – which means that the two issues this month have the Editorial-ship of Aldiss and Harrison. (Where have I seen those two names together before?)

Here Aldiss extols the virtues of the sf pioneer H. G. Wells. Shouldn’t be too surprising, though, as amongst his other many talents Brian is the Vice-President of the H. G. Wells Society, founded nearly 7 years ago. Moorcock last month said that they had hoped to run a piece on Wells’ centenary. I am assuming that this was the (delayed) piece.

It’s an expectedly congratulatory piece – Mr. Aldiss has come here to praise him, not bury him! – but as ever Brian’s writing is always lively and entertaining. There’s a good case made here to celebrate Wells.

To the stories!

Illustration by James Cawthorn

The Day of Forever, by J.G. Ballard

Another melancholic tale from Mr. Ballard. This one has Dying Earth vibes, described as “a world of Nordic gloom” as it posits a future where the Earth has stopped rotating. As a result, in the town of Columbine Sept-Heures, it is a never-ending twilight. This creates for the few survivors a dream-like setting and consequently there’s a lot of stuff here about dreams, or rather not-dreaming, in a surreal setting, as well as Ballard’s usual musings on entropy and time. Here Halliday meets odd characters and dreams of a woman he has seen. More of a mood piece than anything else, I feel. Not a lot happens but the prose is appropriately dream-like in this surreal situation. 4 out of 5.

Saint 505 , by John Clark

A new author to me, with an oddly-styled story of a glowing computer and its creation and management by a mad scientist. Almost poetry but not quite. 3 out of 5.

Sun Push, by Graham M. Hall

Trench warfare that wouldn’t be out of place in the First or Second World Wars – except that this one’s in Britain. Unremittingly grim, Private Time St. John Smith with his Battalion companions Eamus and Sergeant Trelawney fight their way across Southern England. Nasty things happen – “War’s a filthy business”, one of the characters says and that seems to be the main point of this story. To prove it there are a number of atrocities that occur here – for example, captured prisoners are put into brothels, sedated and forced to 'perform', amongst other indignities, something our shell-shocked characters accept and take advantage of. War is hell, etc etc. 3 out of 5.

Illustration by James Cawthorn

Coranda, by Keith Roberts

Onto better stuff. Roberts continues to sell his fiction to the companion magazine of the one he is currently editing. As if this wasn’t enough interaction between the two magazines, the banner tells us that this story was inspired by New Worlds editor Mike Moorcock’s serial novel, The Ice Schooner, currently being serialised over at SF Impulse. So this is another ice-rimmed Fantasy, part Konrad Arflame, part Conan – or is it Elric? The aloof Coranda demands a dowry for her hand in marriage – a unicorn’s head. Rich suitors experience many hardships and not all survive, to win Coranda’s prize, at a cost.

Roberts' tale is grim and yet floridly written, and quite enjoyable, but borrowing Moorcock’s setting and being rather Edgar Rice Burroughs or Conan in style means that it is somewhat derivative. Nevertheless, an interesting alternative take on Moorcock’s idea that I actually enjoyed more than Moorcock’s this month. 4 out of 5.

Illustration by James Cawthorn

Sisohpromatem, by Kit Reed

I had to read that title more than once in order to type it! A story about life from the perspective of a cockroach that wakes up human. No explanation is given for this, but I quite liked it. It shows us that life can be just as weird if you are an insect instead of a human.

Memorable – not just for the title! 4 out of 5.

The Silver Needle, by George Macbeth

Another drug culture related tale but this time in the form of a poem, filled with sex and drug references, and perhaps designed to shock, provoke and amuse. Not as exciting as that summary suggests. 3 out of 5.

Echo Round His Bones (Part 2 of 2), by Thomas M Disch

Captain Hansard continues his life between matter transmitters. Having been rescued at the end of the last part by Bridgetta, the wife of Panofsky, the inventor of the transmitter, we begin this part surrounded by multiple Panlofsky’s and Bridgettas. It seems that every time someone passes through the “manmitter” (ugh) a copy, or echo, is made.

Hansard finds himself unable to go back to his previous world, but is instead offered marriage by Panofsky to one of the copies of his wife. This is not a Heinlein story, right? Or Doctor Strangelove? There are times when it seems very much so. There’s a lot of talk by Panofsky of religion, suicide and souls at this point. And, of course, all of the copies of Bridgetta are wonderful at what they do.

There’s also the pressing issue that the world is about to destroy itself in days… or rather worlds, for it is from Mars that the missiles are about to be launched. Remember – that was Hansard’s original mission, to take a message to Mars.

Confused yet? This is a story that seems to throw everything in at this stage, and as a result it didn’t quite work for me. Clever, yes. And complicated. But I did feel it was trying to spin too many plates at once at the end. 3 out of 5.

Book Reviews

This month Judith Merril takes a step away from her reviewing in the Magazine of Fantasy & SF to review for us Brits. Here she mentions in some detail C. Maxwell Cade’s Other Worlds Than Ours, although as she puts it, “with a touch of my own professional bigotry” to be more impressed than she thought she would be.

James Cawthorn, more briefly, reviews Thomas Burnett Swann’s Day of the Minotaur, Cordwainer Smith’s Quest of the Three Worlds, Roger Zelazny’s The Dream Master, Poul Anderson’s The Corridors of Time and a non-fiction book on archaeology, Approach to Archaeology by Professor Stuart Piggott.

No Letters pages again this month. They all seem to be writing for SF Impulse instead (see below.)


Ballard of a Whaler , by J. Cawthorn

We’ve met James as an artist already this month as a reviewer, but here he is widening his repertoire for the magazine by writing a short tale which also makes use of Moorcock’s Ice Schooner setting. Its purpose isn’t really clear, other than to try and be funny. Who said SF readers don't have a sense of humour?  Sigh.   2 out of 5.

Summing up New Worlds

In some ways we seem to have been put into a routine at New Worlds. It is little different from the last issue – more Disch, more Ballard, more Keith Roberts, the appearance of Aldiss…nothing wrong with that and the stories are generally good. Kit Reed’s is perhaps my favourite in this month’s issue. With all this homage to The Ice Schooner, it's almost as if echoes have been created from the original story! But it does feel a little like this issue could be the November issue just as easily. And so, as last month, a very good issue but not an outstanding one.

The Second Issue At Hand


And now to SF Impulse. Oooh look: nakedness from Keith Roberts. Are we trying to be controversial? (See Letters pages, later.)

The Editorial is a return to that subject we’ve discussed many times before: What is Science Fiction? – before reviewing Gordon Dickson’s Mission to Universe. Harrison likes it.

Illustration by Keith Roberts

Mantis by Chris Boyce

The return of Chris after his fair-but-not-terrific The Rig in the September issue. One again, fair-but-not-terrific, and certainly not as good as the magazine would have me believe. Far too much magazine space (32 pages!) is taken up with the story of sculptor Eric Summerscale, who finds himself being investigated by Condominium Security because his wife Ursula is suspected of being a spy for the Conclavists. Despite its attempt at breeziness, almost becoming a Robert Heinlein story, Mantis feels long, too long, to the point of dullness. Not a promising start; this one tries so hard and yet feels like filler. 3 out of 5.

Green Eyes by Richard Wilson

And then it gets worse, as the laboured Battle of the Sexes idea is continued by Richard. His first story in this series was Deserter in the first issue of Impulse in March and I felt that it was the weakest element of an otherwise strong issue. This is just as awful. The key character in this war is Phoebe, a man in women’s clothing. If it is meant to be funny, it is not. Otherwise, it is another laboured space filler, covering similar ground to Mantis. 2 out of 5.

Letters to the Editor

Letters to the Editor this month continue the discussion of Sex in SF that E. C. Tubb started a couple of issues ago. Chris Hebron, who seems to be all over this issue, responds, as does New Worlds’ Assistant Editor Langdon Jones. The Editor (presumably Harrison, but could be just as easily Keith Roberts) points out at the end how pleased he is for the magazine to have its first real controversy. To me it feels like an attempt to generate mock outrage. Never have these magazines seemed more interchangeable.

Brian Aldiss reviews Thomas M Disch’s The Genocides

A long and thorough review of Disch’s novel. According to Aldiss, the book’s not perfect but there’s enough positives to make me want to read it.


Illustration by Keith Roberts – look, more boobs!

The Shrine of Temptation by Judith Merril

An anthropological story, telling of the strange culture seen by a scientific study through the native Lallayall (aka Lucky). It draws you in, this one. Reminds me a little of Chad Oliver’s writing, but with the usual high standard of Judith. Revelations abound! The first decent story of the issue. 4 out of 5.

Coincidence by Chris Hebron

Another returning author, and not just from his appearance in the Letters Pages this month. Chris was last seen in SF Impulse in October. It’s an epistolary tale, told through communication between two academic researchers. Like the Merril story, there are anthropological elements, although here we also have weird happenings that seem more like witchcraft, with strange images, sex fantasies and things only the narrator can see and hear. Fritz Leiber would like this one, I think. There’s mention of breasts in a vain attempt to grab my attention – this seems to be a theme this month! –  and even shock me in a story that had trouble maintaining my interest. Can’t see the American magazines wanting this one, though. 3 out of 5.

Grutch by Pete Hammerton

Another story that is meant to be amusing (the banner says that it is “a delightfully funny episode from a new and zany talent”), but did not stir me. Some sort of sub-Dickensian style story in a science-fictional, future setting. Luke Varm claims to talk telepathically to mice from Mars who need his help to return home. As silly as it sounds, and once again, this one feels oversold. I am always wary of stories where I am told “this is funny”, because they rarely are. 2 out of 5.

Scary Illustration by Keith Roberts

The Ice Schooner (Part 3 of 3) by Michael Moorcock

Our journey across a frozen world with Konrad Arflame concludes this month. When we left it last month, Konrad and his group of Ulrica Ulsenn (who Konrad has secretly slept with), her arrogant husband Janek, Ulrica’s cousin Manfred and the harpoonist Long Lance Urquart were on the Ice Maiden, heading North to find the legendary New York and possibly the mystical Ice Mother. They were approaching an icebreak.

The boat survives, although there is increased tension as the boat nears volcanoes. Konrad is told by Ulrica that First Officer Petchnyoff and Janek Ulsenn plan to kill him. Before this can happen, though, the boat is attacked by barbarians. Petchnyoff is killed and Konrad is wounded. The weather turns foggier and colder, and the morale on the boat worsens but this changes when eventually the boat approaches New York.

However, the boat is damaged when it hits a wreck and there is another raid on the ship by the barbarians. In an attempt to escape the raiders, the boat is destroyed. The survivors are captured by barbarians riding polar bears and are taken to New York. They are told that the ice is melting. Urquart persuades the barbarians that Arflame should be taken to the Ice Mother’s court. For this, Urquart has made a deal to make a blood sacrifice to the Ice Mother. Manfred is castrated and eventually dies. Urquart is killed in combat by Arflane.

In New York they meet Peter Ballantine, who explains to them the origins of the city and how the people there have invented machinery to keep the ice at bay. Ulrica decides to stay, thinking that this is the future, whilst Konrad leaves alone to find the Ice Mother.

I still enjoyed the setting, though this part feels uneven and even a bit of a downer. Its melancholic nature signals that things must change and yet some cling to the traditions. Will Konrad find the Ice Mother? It looks like we’ll never know. 3 out of 5.

Summing up SF Impulse

A very middling kind of issue this month that seems to be filling space without any real impact, dominated by the dull and predictable Chris Boyce story. The Moorcock was fine but seemed to fizzle out a little, and the Merril was good, but overall this issue feels like it is trying too hard, filled with material that was at the bottom of the pile, or at least full of New Worlds cast-offs.

Summing up overall

After a run of SF Impulses that have been better, from my comments above it may be unsurprising, yet pleasing, for me to say that there’s no contest this month – New Worlds is by far the better issue, even when both magazines seem to be in some sort of slight slump.

Worrying signs aside, we do at least have something to look forward to: this is at the end of the New Worlds issue:

Until the next (forward, 1967!)…





[December 26, 1966] Harvesting the Starfields (1966's Galactic Stars!)


by Gideon Marcus

There are many outlets that cover new releases in science fiction and fantasy.  But to my knowledge, only one attempts to review every English language publication in the world (not to mention stuff published beyond the U.S. and U.K.!) We are proud of the coverage we provide.

And this is the time of year when the bounty is tallied.  From all the books, magazines, comic strips, movies, tv shows, we separate the wheat from the chaff, and then sift again until only the very best is left.

These, then, are the Galactic Stars for 1966!

We have tried to keep the winners to a manageable three winners, but as you'll see, the honorable mentions rather got away from themselves.  That's because there was simply more fiction produced this year, what with the three British mags and all.  This is a fine problem to have, too much good stuff.

Results are in order of voting for the winners, alphabetical order by author for the honorable mentions.

——
Best Poetry
——

Poetry is always an underrepresented field within SF.  Rather than declare a winner in this category, we simply present the four pieces we liked the most this year.

The Gods, by L. Sprague de Camp

Memo to Secretary, by Pat de Graw

The Last Song Sung in Lorien, by Robert Foster

The Case, by Peter Redgrove

——
Best Vignettes (1-8 pages)
——

Day Million, by Frederik Pohl

Some writers take no chances when predicting the future.  Pohl is not among them…

Love Is an Imaginary Number, by Roger Zelazny

A modern spin on the Prometheus legend.

Breakaway House, by Ron Goulart

A Max Kearney, occult detective, story.  Genuinely funny.

Honorable Mention:

The Plot Sickens, by Brian W. Aldiss

You and Me and the Continuum, by J. G. Ballard

The Plot is the Thing, by Robert Bloch

But Soft, What Light … , by Carol Emshwiller

Mute Milton, by Harry Harrison

Mr. Wilde's Second Chance, by Joanna Russ

We had more vignettes to choose from this year, with the result that more made the list.  Their content ranged from frivolous fantasy to deadly serious social commentary.  It's always impressive when an author can say a lot with a little.

——
Best Short Stories (9-19 pages)
——

The Squirrel Cage, by Thomas M. Disch

Why is the man trapped in a room with only a typewriter and the newspaper for company?


Honorable Mention

No other story got more than one vote by a Journeyer, though virtually all got at least four stars.  So, instead of providing summaries or attempting ranks, the following will be listed by recommender.

By John Boston:

When I Was Miss Dow, by Sonya Dorman

At the Core, by Larry Niven

The Roaches, by Thomas M. Disch

By Cora Bulhert:

The Bells of Shoredan, by Roger Zelazny

High Treason, by Poul Anderson

Splice of Life, by Sonya Dorman

By David Levinson:

The Face of the Deep, by Fred Saberhagen

Halfway House, by Robert Silverberg

By Gideon Marcus:

Come Lady Death , by Peter S. Beagle

A Code for Sam, by Lester del Rey

Contact Man, by Harry Harrison

By Kris Vyas-Myall:

The Great Clock , by Langdon Jones

The Loolies Are Here, short story by Allison Rice

By Victoria Silverwolf:

Stars, Won't You Hide Me?, by Ben Bova

Light of Other Days, by Bob Shaw

The Worlds That Were, by Keith Roberts

——
Best Novelettes (20-40 pages)
——

Riverworld, by Philip José Farmer

All of humanity is ressurrected on the banks of the world-river.  Including Tom Mix and a certain carpenter from Nazareth…

For a Breath I Tarry, by Roger Zelazny

Two computer brains endeavor to know long-dead humanity.  Beautiful.  Powerful.


A Two-Timer, by David I. Masson

A 17th Century scholar sojourns for a time in Our Modern Times.  Delightful.

Angels Unawares, by Zenna Henderson

An early tale of The People.  Kin can be adopted as well as born.


Honorable Mention

An Ornament to His Profession, by Charles L. Harness

Pavane: Lords & Ladies, by Keith Roberts

The Disinherited, by Poul Anderson

The Keys to December, by Roger Zelazny

Defence Mechanism, by Vincent King

Wings of a Bat, by Paul Ash (Pauline Ashwell)

The Eyes of the Blind King, by Brian W. Aldiss

Be Merry, by Algis Budrys

We Can Remember It for You Wholesale, by Philip K. Dick

The Phoenix and the Mirror, by Avram Davidson

——
Best Novella (40+ pages)
——

Behold the Man, by Michael Moorcock

If Jesus did not exist, it would be necessary for a time traveler to go back and invent him…

The Manor of Roses, by Thomas Burnett Swann

A lordlet and his peasant blood brother encounter Mandrakes on the way to the Crusades.


The Last Castle , by Jack Vance

All the bastions of humanity have fallen to the aliens save one.  Vance at his most lyrical.

Pavane: Corfe Gate, by Keith Roberts

In an England that remained Catholic, Lady Eleanor leads a rebellion at Corfe Gate.  The capstone of the Pavane saga.

Honorable Mention

The Suicide Express, by Philip José Farmer (another Riverworld tale)

Synth, by Keith Roberts (Is an android a person?)

Prisoners of the Sky, by C.C. McApp (saving the plateau world of Durrent from alien invaders)

Good novellas are usually few and far between.  We raised a bumper crop this year!

——
Best Novel/Serial
——

Babel-17, by Samuel R. Delany

Hands down the winner.  Brilliant linguist Rydra Wong must decipher the secret of the alien's language before more traitors bring down humanity from within.  There's never been anything quite like this progressive masterpiece (though Purdom's I Want the Stars has hints of it).


Flowers for Algernon, by Daniel Keyes

Charlie Gordon is a moron…until he's a genius.  What next?  An expansion of the brilliant novelette, garnering the Galactic Star in both incarnations.

The Moon Is a Harsh Mistress, by Robert A. Heinlein

The Moon is a revolting place.  Featuring the neatest synthetic character ever portrayed!

October the First is too Late, by Fred Hoyle

The world is fractured into a myriad of time zones, but why?

Sibyl Sue Blue, by Rosel George Brown

She's tiny, she's tough, and Sergeant Blue is going to crack the benzale murder case, even if she has to go to the stars to do it.

Make Room! Make Room!, by Harry Harrison

There is a critical density for humanity; Harrison's exploration of the Malthusian world is profoundly disturbing.

Honorable Mention

Sword of Lankor, by Howard Cory

Now Wait for Last Year, by Philip K. Dick

Earthworks, by Brian W. Aldiss

The Crystal World, by J.G. Ballard

Too Many Magicians, by Randall Garrett

The New Wave is definitely upon us, with only the Heinlein truly "conventional" SF (but the best he's turned in yet!) I am pleased that women are represented in each of these categories, though still dismayed at the relative dearth of them.  This was a very lean year for woman-penned science fiction.

If there be a Hugo category for "Best Publisher" next year, we'll be surprised if Ace or Doubleday aren't among the nominees——they had, by far, the most outstanding books in 1966.

——
Best Science Fact
——

For Your Information: The Sound of the Meteors, by Willy Ley


Drifting Continents, by Robert S. Dietz

H. P. Lovecraft: The House and the Shadows, by J. Vernon Shea

BB or Not BB, That Is the Question, by Isaac Asimov

Dimensions in Heinlein, by Alexei Panshin

The Economics of SF, by John Brunner

Dimensions, Anyone?, by John D. Clark, Ph.D.

Asimov no longer dominates the field, in part because he's starting to struggle for material, and also because we're doing a better job of keeping up with the 'zines.  These are all great articles, though.  Accessible and interesting.

——
Best Magazine/Collection
——

Orbit: 3.36 stars, 3 Star nominees

Science Fantasy/Impulse: 3.23 stars, 6 Star nominees

New Worlds: 3.21 stars, 7 Star nominees

Fantastic: 3.20 stars, 2 Star nominees

New Writings: 3.13 stars, 1 Star nominee

F&SF: 3.099 stars, 10 Star nominees

Galaxy: 3.097 stars, 3 Star nominees

Alien Worlds: 3 stars, 1 Star nominee

IF: 2.91 stars, 7 Star nominees

Analog: 2.89 stars, 5 Star nominees

Worlds of Tomorrow: 2.66 stars, 3 Star nominees

Amazing: 2.37 stars, 1 Star nominee

This is always an apples and oranges category since collections are published much more rarely than magazines, some magazines are monthly while others are bi-monthly (or even quarterly), and both Fantastic and Amazing are composed mostly of reprints.  Nevertheless, the two UK mags definitely stood out this year, with New Worlds slightly more experimental, and thus variable, than Science FantasyGalaxy is the more reliable, but also more stolid sister of IFWorlds of Tomorrow does not seem long for this world…

——
Best Artist
——

John Schoenherr

Frank Frazetta

Kelly Freas

Gray Morrow

George Zeil

——
Best Dramatic Presentation
——

The War Game

A chilling documentary-style exploration of an atomic blast on England.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

Doctor Who: The War Machines

Seconds

Star Trek: "The Menagerie"

Raumpatrouille Orion: "The Space Trap"

Out of the Unknown: "The Midas Plague"

Flight of the Phoenix (unreviewed, but boy is it good!)

——
Best Comic Book
——

Spiderman

X-Men


Asterix in Britain

Blazing Combat

Doom Patrol

Fantastic Four

The Rise and Fall of the Trigan Empire

Marvel Comics is now in a dominating position, putting out some of the most dynamic, popular mags.  National (DC) is barely keeping a toehold in with their FF-derived Doom Patrol.  Beyond the Big Two, Blazing Combat, by Warren Publications, offers a much more nuanced, even anti-war alternative to Sgt. Rock and Sgt. Fury.  France is represented with the Gaul-era Asterix in Britain, while Britain's Trigan Empire, appearing in Ranger and Look and Learn (sequentially) gets the Star for that nation.

Sadly, I've not been back to Japan since '64, which means I'm missing out on loads of terrific manga.  Well, maybe next year…

——
Best Fanzine
——

Riverside Quarterly

Yandro

Amra

Australian Science Fiction Review

Lighthouse (annual pros' fanzine)

Nikeas

Ratatosk (news)

Science Fiction Times (news)

Tolkien Journal

Zenith

Riverside Quarterly, with its scholarly pieces, and Juanita Coulson's Yandro, one of the most balanced of 'zines, continue to impress.  This will probably be the last year SFT makes it on the ballot given its reduced schedule.  But with the recent republishing of LoTR, I expect Tolkien Journal to be with us a long time.


And so, another year's crop is harvested.  I think, on the main, 1966 yielded superior fruit than '65.  Women continue to be underrepresented, but also consistently produce some of the best material.  Imagine what the field would be like with equal participation!

One big change is that science fiction is no longer entirely the province of the written word.  With the arrival of Star Trek, Space Patrol Orion, and more SF themed shows in general, not to mention the flourishing of comic books, SF is diversifying, infiltrating the mainstream.  What long-term effects this has remain to be seen: will science fiction dilute itself into pap?  Or will it explode as the audience grows?

Stay tuned next year!  Until then, keep watching the Stars…





[December 24, 1966] Unquiet on the Romulan Front (Star Trek: "Balance of Terror")

Déjà vu


by Gideon Marcus

Under a blanket of unwinking stars, a lone vessel patrols on the trackless expanse between civilizations.  A distress call is heard: one, two, now three voices stilled in the night by an unknown raider.  Not long ago, the enemy had been defeated but not broken in war, and it seems the old adversary has returned.  Now, the navy ship probes out an unseen predator, cloaked in darkness, wielding torpedoes of death.

"The Enemy Below" (1957) Gregory Peck, Kurt Jurgens, 4:30 Channel 4

Er…strike that.

"Balance of Terror" (1966) William Shatner, Mark Lenard, 8:30 Channel 9

It has always been hinted that the Enterprise, the featured ship on Star Trek, is a military vessel.  Indeed, its role seems not unlike the frigates of the 19th Century, showing the flag at ports of call, projecting power at critical junctures, providing relief when requested.  But in this latest episode, we see Kirk and crew in a full-blown military situation, fighting a tactical battle with huge strategic ramifications.

"Balance of Terror" succeeds best at the big-picture stuff.  All at once, the burgeoning Earth civilization has at least one border.  Prior to this outing, there had been just one contact with a spacefaring race, and that ("The Corbomite Manuever") a particularly asymmetrical one. 

With the introductions of the Romulans, Earth now has an adversary of roughly comparable strength and abilities.  And what an intriguing adversary!  Mark Lenard, who I've seen on various other TV shows, gives a fine turn as the Romulan commander, war-weary but canny We also learn a bit more about the Vulcanians, and that their peaceful, logical ways are a comparatively recent development.  I would love to see the Romulans return as a regular foil for the Enterprise crew, though that may prove logistically impractical.  After all, the two nations are separated by a large Neutral Zone, and communication between them is explicitly limited.

The brooding cinematography of "The Man Trap" is back on display, and it is attractive ("Miri" director, Vince McEevety is also back).  Shatner is once again compelling in his role as commander, though there are not too many contributions from the ensemble this outing (though Kelley is awarded a few good scenes).  I appreciated that men and women are not only shown serving side-by-side effectively on a warship, but that they are also allowed to have human relationships, even to the point of getting married.  A far better future than the one envisioned by Dr. Richardson a decade ago, when he opined that spacefaring would be an all-stag operation, one which women would partake in only as prostitutes to satisfy the inevitable male urges.

Where "Balance of Terror" falls down, although not too often, is the tactical end of things.  Uncomfortable gymnastics are required to stuff Trek into a destroyer vs. sub plot.  Do the crews really have to stay silent to avoid being heard across thousands of kilometers of vacuum?  Why do the Enterprise's phasers shut down after their first salvo?  What, exactly, was the purpose of the two ships lying dead silent next to each other for half a day if Spock was just going to accidentally push the ping button on his console anyway?  Better if that had been a deliberate action.

Also, while I appreciated the anti-bigotry message that pervades the episode, it seemed odd that Stiles and Sulu would immediately suspect the presence of Romulan spies aboard the Enterprise—before we even saw that Romulans looked like Spock.  Given that it had been a century since humans and Romulans had had contact, and that neither side had ever seen each other or spoken directly to each other, how would the Romulans have a chance to infiltrate themselves into Earth space, and aboard a military vessel, at that?

Finally, why the hand-wringing over whether to engage the enemy or not?  The Romulans were the clear aggressors, they were on our side of the Neutral Zone, and the Enterprise specifically dispatched to investigate.  I can see Kirk worried about losing his vessel and his crew, but I'm not sure why he, and Sulu and McCoy, were advocating holding back for fear of starting a war.  After Pearl Harbor, were we (America) really concerned about making the Japanese mad by fighting back?

On the other hand, we've learned over the past half season that McCoy will always advocate the opposite of whatever Spock endorses.  If Spock had turned around and suggested retreat, McCoy would have urged for the attack.  Those two…

Anyway, it's a good episode, a promising one, but pacing issues and a derivative plot keep it at four stars.


A Dangerous Game of Peekaboo


by Tam Phan (Secret Asian Man)

It was about time that we finally got to see some bigger conflicts in the final frontier. Until now, all we’ve seen is petty squabbles between humans and the occasional alien. This episode marked the first time we find Kirk in a position where making even a single poor decision could have catastrophic repercussions that land him on the wrong side of history. Will Kirk be a hero, or will he allow the Romulans to start a war?

We’ve seen some of the ship's combat capabilities and some interesting tactics in past episodes, but not until “Balance of Terror” have we seen Kirk use the Enterprise in combat. In truth, I was interested in seeing how Kirk fared in battle. It was a thrill to see both captains make mistakes that the other capitalized on. They learned and adapted, and there’s just something beautiful about that dance between experts.

This was one of the more exciting episodes of Star Trek, but “Balance of Terror” fell short for me by turning Stiles into a revenge driven maniac and Kirk into a timid commander. Stiles was right: the Romulans had crossed over the neutral zone, destroyed several science stations, and were sneaking back across to report to their home planet, yet Kirk hesitated. It is lazy writing to have a leader who has every reason to act, but chooses not to because it creates more drama. 

But Stiles was right the way a stopped clock can be right. The way that he conducted himself was out of line. Stiles' bigotry is a deep-seated family affair. He didn’t even know what the Romulans looked like before he suspected Spock, the only alien aboard. Subtle hatred turned into fully-realized racism as soon as the Romulan captain was revealed. Kirk’s attempt to rein in his navigator with “their war, Mr. Stiles” did little to dispel his hatred.

Stiles’ mindset is unfortunately not uncommon. It’s all too familiar to me as a Vietnamese man. There are very few of my race in the United States, and I often get mistaken for a Japanese or Chinese man. There’s no doubt that I share some common ancestry with those nationalities, but it would be like mistaking an Dutchman for a German…or a Vulcanian for a Romulan. We are not the same, even if we look the same (to less discerning eyes). I appreciate Kirk’s repeated expressed opposition to bigotry. I am also glad that, in the end, Stiles learned the error of his ways. There is no place for bigotry on the Enterprise, especially when one considers that the fellow who plays Sulu (the best crewman) likely was imprisoned just for his race just twenty years ago.

I enjoyed the sniping interaction between Spock and McCoy in the last episode ( "Conscience of the King"), but it was just out of place here. McCoy’s objections to battling the invading Romulan seemed contrarian for no reason other than to continue the Spock vs. McCoy theme. I know the writers are capable of writing more complexity into this relationship, and I hope they do so. Still, I'm glad that Spock and McCoy's bickering has no racial basis; sometimes family just has to argue over everything.

Quibbles aside, I enjoyed the show. I hope to see the Romulans again and to see Kirk return to form.

4 Stars


Mirror images


by Andrea Castaneda

Andrea Castaneda here, news photographer extraordinaire.

Truth be told, I don't consider myself a huge Star Trek fan. I appreciate the show, yes, but it’s not something I've specifically sought out. But with “Balance of Terror”, I can now see why Star Trek is already beloved, even groundbreaking. 

There are two things I love in a show: well established emotional stakes and sympathetic antagonists. And this episode did a great job at showcasing both.

I appreciate how the show opens with a wedding ceremony. It’s a simple one, with the couple in uniform with only a white fascinator in the bride‘s hair. Captain Kirk seems genuinely moved by the young couple’s love. It's a nice moment of calm before the storm, and it sets emotional stakes for the episode that parallel the larger, political ones.

I also liked the organic way in which Kirk explained the Neutral Zone to his crew. It feels believable that there may be many on board who don’t understand the specifics, and the show explains it succinctly enough to clue the audience in without boring them.

Then we encounter the Romulans. We learn about their military philosophy, how they descended from the Vulcanians, and how their technology is a force to be reckoned with.  We meet the commander of the Romulan ship, coiffed with a haircut reminiscent of Julius Caesar. He comes across as a shrewd man, but not a cruel one. And after learning more about the Romulan philosophy, one can understand why he thinks he’s doing the right thing.

And this is where I enjoyed the show the most.

The commander is a savvy military man, meaning Kirk must step up. Kirk shows his military prowess, observing the enemy, consulting with his crew, and anticipating the Romulans’ next move. Yet Kirk does not revel in his victories. Instead, he expresses concern for his crew, self doubt over what happens “if he’s wrong”.

Meanwhile on the Romulan ship, their commander is simultaneously impressed and frustrated by Kirk’s outmaneuvering. After gaining the upper hand, he becomes torn between his duty and his desire to go home; duty wins out and compels him to move forward.

In the end, the Enterprise’s crew prevails, and the audience celebrates with them, yet I felt for the defeated commander. Yes, he initiated the attacks on Earth’s outposts. But the way he yearned for home was relatable, inspiring sympathy.

It’s what made the final exchange between him and Captain Kirk so memorable: “You and I are of a kind. In a different reality, I could have called you friend.”

It’s a fitting end for the antagonist, though I did wish we could see more of him.

Something that wasn’t made clear was why the Romulans were attacking in the first place other than a vague national desire for military conquest. I hope we see some diplomatic fallout over this incursion in a future episode. Also, I was disappointed in the resolution of Stiles' bigotry. Spock had to risk his life to prove that he's "a good person", relieving Stiles of actually examining his own prejudices.

Nevertheless, the episode created a great sense of vulnerability and concern for the characters and the intergalactic relations in general. And thanks to the earlier wedding scene, the one death of a lesser crewmember had a much more emotional impact.

Four stars.


A First True Trekian Tragedy


by Jessica Dickinson Goodman

I think this episode was the first true tragedy in Star Trek and I deeply appreciated the depth it added to both the characters and the worlds they live in. In the episode, we see both sides of a conflict, shown through two commanders contesting their wills, driven by their cultures, their own personalities, and each holding within them their own tragic flaws. We already know one of Kirk’s major flaws, laid bare in The Enemy Within: he can be indecisive in the face of conflict. As Tam notes, the Romulan commander does not share this flaw. But he tends towards aggression, to the point of self-destruction. He seems to imply this is a cultural characteristic, in addition to a personal one:

Romulan Commander: When he attacks, we will destroy him. Our gift to the homeland, another war.

He continues critically, describing what he thinks his and his crew’s lots are:

”Obedience. Duty. Death and more death. Soon even enough for the Praetor's taste. Centurion, I find myself wishing for destruction before we can return.”

He certainly gets it.

The question rises for me, whether this episode could be a Greek or a Shakesperian tragedy. It would be interesting to contemplate the extent to which Dr McCoy is serving as Greek Chorus, commenting on the main action, speaking for the Gods who desire more peace and less death; but, to me and asking Tam’s forgiveness for bringing up the Bard again, it feels more Shakesperian. We see “two households, both alike in dignity,” fighting and hiding along a functional demilitarized zone. The Romulan Commander has Othello’s battle smarts and there is something of Prince Hal’s early relationship with Falstaff in his conversations with his Centurion. The Commander’s death – drawn out, with a monologue, intrinsically tied to his tragic flaw–feels ready-made for the wooden stage of the Globe.

But Kirk and the Romulan Commander’s tragedy is not the only one in Balance of Terror. The story begins with a wedding and ends with a funeral. We see no tragic flaw in Angela Martine or Robert Tomlinson, unless it was his obedience. To me, that makes his senseless death and her bereavement feel like a modern tragedy: one with no purpose, no pat lesson, just the reality that after death and destruction, we need to get up and keep going. Angela’s expression as she gives the last line of the episode, telling Kirk “I’m all right,” reminded me of the expressions of thousands of widows of the soldiers, airmen, marines, and sailors killed in Vietnam this year on all sides.

Five stars.






55 years ago: Science Fact and Fiction