Magazine, Science Fiction/Fantasy, Serial

[November 30, 1966] Marking time (December 1966 Analog)

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But first, please read this brief interlude!

As you know, in addition to Galactic Journey, I also run Journey Press, devoted both to republishing classics discovered while on this trek through time, but also to publish new works of science fiction in fantasy that (I hope!) live up to the quality and tradition of the classic works we offer.

If anyone would enjoy these works, we know it will be you.  This holiday season, pick up a title or three from Journey Press!  It's the best present you can give yourself, a loved one…and us!


by Gideon Marcus

Bogged down

With more than half a million American troops in Vietnam now, the South Vietnamese are starting to feel like they're living under occupation.  There's no doubt who's calling the shots these days.  The question is, is this surge of military force going to be enough to drag Ho Chi Minh to the bargaining table?

Despite the flow of optimistic figures from the Pentagon, it doesn't look like peace or even peace overtures will happen any time soon.  The closest we've gotten is securing a pair of holiday ceasefires.  So, expect a long slog and nightly death counts on the evening news for the forseeable future.  Better dead than Red, right?


American soldiers enjoy a Thanksgiving respite before heading off to combat again.  They may end up taking as long getting to Hanoi as it's taking Saunders and Kelly to get to Berlin.

In the trenches

Meanwhile, the December 1966 Analog constitutes a landmark of sorts — it's the last magazine of the year!  And, like Vietnam, it's often been a tedious, dragging affair.  This month is no different, though the magazine starts better than it ends.  Let's get our report from the front, shall we?

A quick note on the inside cover this month.  Yes, the one editor whose editorials I skip every month has bundled his loony screeds together and is offering them in book form. Or as Tom Lehrer put it:

Now there's a charge for what she used to give for free…

He even got Harry Harrison to shill for him.  I have to disagree with Harrison, though: while Campbell indeed may be "idiosyncratic, prejudiced, and annoying", he also is usually quite boring.

Don't fail to miss!

Amazon Planet (Part 1 of 3), by Mack Reynolds


by Kelly Freas

Mack Reynolds once again sets a tale in his loosely knit United Planets.  Humanity has sprawled across hundreds of stars, and one of the primary tenets of this community is that each colony expresses itself as it likes so long as it harms no other world.

As might be deduced from the title, this latest novel features a matriarchy planet, one where the "traditional" (read mid-20th Century) gender roles are reversed.  Well, not so much features, as this first third of the novel takes place not on "Amazonia", but on a freighter headed toward it.  There are only two passengers: Terran Guy Thomas, a deceptively mild trader with plans to open Amazonia up to the niobium trade, and Patricia O' Gara, refugee from the exceedingly puritanical colony of Victoria.

There's not a lot of action in this section.  Mostly crew mates talking about how terribly men are treated on Amazonia, Pat (and later a troop of Amazons) explaining how they're wrong, and Guy acting as something of a catalyst for discussion.  It's all rendered rather broadly, but simply the fact that this subject is even being discussed, and a matriarchy is not being played for laughs, is interesting.

I'm waiting to see where it goes; this could be an awful, sexist piece or it could be an enlightened one.  Only time will tell (though Reynolds has a good track record on this front).

Three stars.

The Weathermakers, by Ben Bova


by Leo Summers

Hurricane season is hotting up, and it's up to Ted, Jerry, Tuli, and Barney (the last a woman) of Project THUNDER to ensure none of these storms hits the Atlantic seaboard.  To accomplish this, they'll use cloud seeding planes and orbital lasers to increase the equilibrium of the systems, smoothing them out before they become rotating furies.

But when these methods prove insufficient, only true weather control on a national scale can save Washington D.C. from a devastating cyclone.

The Weathermakers is actually an excerpt from an upcoming novel, presumably the climax.  It's exciting enough, and the technology is interesting, although I have to wonder if pumping extra heat energy into the Earth's atmosphere isn't ultimately a dangerous thing.

It's all a bit gung ho and simplistic, more what I'd expect from a juvenile.  This is not a bad thing, of course.  We can use more juvenile authors of merit.

Four stars.

Cytoplasmic Inheritance , by Carl A. Larson

The nonfiction article this issue is an extremely abstruse, but not unreadable, piece on the role the cytoplasm plays in genetics.  Apparently, it's not all governed by DNA in the nucleus.

Biology's not my bag, and a lot of it went over my head, but I did read it and found interest in it.

Three stars.

The Blue-Penciled Throop, by L. Edey

It's all downhill from here.  First, we've got another in the epistolary Throop series, basically an excuse for Campbell to tell us how hard his job is as editor having to deal with a bunch of nincompoops.

Two stars.

The Price of Simeryl, by Kris Neville


by Leo Summers

The colony of Elanth has got itself in a bind.  The local government bought too much of the addictive Simeryl drug to pacify the indigenous Elanthians, who both are having trouble meeting their farm quotas and are spending too much time fighting the Coelanths, a vicious species that has enjoyed a recent resurgence.  Third Foreign Secretary Raleigh is sent to the planet to fact-find pending a solution.

Wow, that didn't take me long to write at all.  The story, on the other hand, is presented as a set of interminable interviews with various government officials, none of them pleasant or particularly distinctive from each other.  And in the end, there is no revelation.  The story is perhaps five times longer than it needs to be.  Even at its best, it's pointless.

Also, I'm getting a little tired of putative future governments with nary a woman to be found in them.  From Ann Rosenberg Hoffman to Margaret Chase Smith to Indira Gandhi, we've had many prominent female lawmakers and cabinet leaders.  It's time to feature women in our science fiction at least to the degree they are represented on 1966 Earth, and not just in extreme cases as depicted in the Reynolds this month.

One star.

Under the Dragon's Tail, by Philip Latham


by Leo Summers

Finally, "Philip Latham" (Dr. Robert S. Richardson, who writes great nonfiction), turns in a piece that's basically the day-to-day dreariness of an assistant planetarium manager.  That an asteroid is going to smack down in Griffith Park at the end is a mostly extraneous detail.

Two stars.

Looking Back

Well, that wasn't very good, was it?  Indeed, Analog sets a record of sorts: at 2.5 stars, it is the worst magazine of the month.  Slightly better, though still dismal, was Fantasy and Science Fiction (2.6).  Amazingly enough, Amazing beat out both of them with 2.9 stars.

Above the mediocrity line lie siblings Galaxy (3.1) and IF (3.2) The British mags top out the list with Impulse at 3.3 and New Worlds at a whopping 3.6!

There was exactly one story by a woman this month.  I had thought '66 would be better than '65 in this regard, but no dice.  To paraphrase Mrs. Rosenberg Hoffman, Assistant Defense Secretary under Truman, science fiction without women is an industry half-idle.  I hope things get better soon.

I guess we'll continue to mark time until then…

Did you remember to check out Journey Press?

Here's a helpful reminder!



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Fashion, music, politics, sports

[November 28, 1966] Truman Capote's Ink and Paper Cinderella (a party to end all parties)

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by Gwyn Conaway

Truman Capote has thrown a party and it might just be the talk of the century!


Truman Capote grew up in Alabama during the Great Depression and strived for a life of luxury and fame. When he finally found acclaim, it became apparent very soon after that he had the personality and audacity to fit the high society bill.

This rising star of American literature published In Cold Blood, his first widely acclaimed piece of work, with Random House Publishing earlier this year. Though the “nonfiction novel” propelled the small-town Alabamian onto international bestseller lists and the critic’s chopping block, securing both his notoriety and fortune alike, it’s this week's "Black and White Ball" that has bestowed him with the mantle of high society.


Oscar de la Renta and Françoise de Langlade wearing cat masks at the Black and White Ball, held in the Grand Ballroom of the Plaza Hotel, November 28th, 1966.

In fact, there hasn’t been quite this sort of mystery surrounding an invitation since Paul Poiret’s A Thousand and Second Night in 1911. Capote has, perhaps, received inspiration from the late French fashion designer in taking painstaking care to design his guest list and requiring a strict dress code for the spectacle of the soiree. While Poiret’s guests wore harem pants, lampshade dresses, and turbans inspired by the Ballets Russes’ Schéhérazade, Capote’s were instructed to wear masks, black, and white.


An illustration of Denise Poiret by George le Pape at One Thousand and Second Night, the infamous party at Chez Poiret. If guests arrived without something to wear, they were given something or politely turned away. The shapes and adornment of Poiret's fashions strike a chord with us today, and can be seen at Capote's ball as well.

Of course, Capote couldn’t throw such a lavish affair for himself; that would be in very poor taste, after all. All summer, he sat by literary agent and editor Eleanor Friede’s poolside, considering his guests. He carried his book with him all through the fall, crossing names off, adding new ones, taking notes. His little book became a subject of great curiosity, and so did the guest of honor. Most of us believed he’d choose one of his “swans”, the beautiful women he cavorts with these days, so imagine my surprise when he chose Katharine Graham, publisher of the Washington Post.


Katharine Graham, the guest of honor, and Capote in attendance at the Black and White Ball. Pictured to the right is her mask, designed by famous American designer Halston.

Katharine Graham has hinted that she felt more like a prop for Capote’s whims than a guest of honor, but the baffled newspaper president accepted his invitation. The evening has revitalized her social standing and thrust one of the most important women in America back into the spotlight. Graham took over the capital’s most important daily publication after the unfortunate suicide of her late husband, Phillip Graham in 1963. Since then, she’s faced a tumultuous fight for recognition in a world in which men have dominated since the dawn of the periodical. Choosing Graham was ingenious. Although her influence and power reaches far and wide, she lives deep within her work and has rarely surfaced to socialize since the death of her husband. As a result, the queen of the press became Capote’s Cinderella, and the linchpin of the party’s success.

To be fair, the rest of the guest list didn’t disappoint the gossipers either. In fact, it put the party squarely at the top of this century’s list of places to be and people to see. Though the likes of first daughter Lynda Bird Johnson, Frank Sinatra, Gloria Vanderbilt, and the Duke and Duchess of Windsor were among the socialites grooving until four in the morning, it wasn’t necessarily the star power that made this party so thrilling. The hotel doorman, Andy Warhol, and a few residents of little Holcomb, Kansas, where he did research for In Cold Blood, were also invited. It’s true that high society parties like this are usually a strict in-crowd affair, but at the Black and White Ball, the more than five hundred guests were rubbing shoulders with people they never would have met otherwise. This cross-pollination of economics, politics, and culture is perhaps the last we’ll see for quite some time.


Notably, Capote’s critics were not invited to the ball. Kenneth Tynan of The Observer, for example. He vehemently criticized In Cold Blood and accused Capote of hoping both killers, Richard Hicock and Perry Smith, would be executed for the real massacre behind the novel so the ending would be more cathartic. Capote's infamous notebook is displayed on the right.

The party itself was a carefully designed spectacle. Although gloves have gone out of fashion in recent years, thanks to the dissipation of social modesty caused by the Beatnik and Mod movements, department stores and glovers ran a shortage this month in preparation for the big day. Milliners also faced a heavy burden, filling orders for fantastical masks and surreal headwear. And while the preparations for the ball were hectic all across New York City, the parade of costumes was just as eclectic and exhilarating. Capote proclaimed he was inspired by the Ascot scene in My Fair Lady and his guests took this to heart.


My Fair Lady came out in 1964. It was directed by George Cukor and starred Audrey Hepburn and Rex Harrison. The Ascot scene has proven to be a major influence in the fashion world, and will likely continue to be referenced for decades to come. Bravo to costume designer Cecil Beaton for his lasting legacy!




Top: Princess Lee Radziwell, sister to former First Lady Jackie Kennedy, shows off her couture treasures to the adoring press; Middle: Andy Warhol, cult pop artist; Bottom: Guests who built their own masks out of papier-mâché and paint. The range of who's who at this party was enormous! Wildly different politics and economics. Who could have guessed we'd see these faces at the same party?

Maybe Truman Capote really did throw the Black and White Ball as a frivolous exercise in his newfound fame and wealth, but I see a gathering on the cusp of great division with far more significance. Although the theme was meant to inspire a sort of graphic elegance in the song-and-dance of high society entertainment, Capote’s guests betray a social experiment at the heart of his event. What with the rise of the Civil Rights Movement, Vietnam War protests, the Women's Movement, and so much more, could Capote be signaling to the Old Guard that the world is changing? Considering he chose to honor Katharine Graham, after months of reflection, and dressed the entire event in the colors of ink and paper, I simply can’t imagine this was all a convenient happenstance.

In truth, we often belittle the significance of spectacles like these until they are a distant memory, blinded by the wealth in attendance and whether or not the champagne was chilled or the dancing rowdy. Perhaps we suffer from jealousy in wishing we had been there ourselves, that we had walked the red carpet parade and smiled for the tabloids. Though I suffer from the same afflictions, of course, I still must ask myself: when is a party no longer just a party?

The Black and White Ball is on the wobbly edge, in my opinion. Was Capote simply bold in throwing aside the social conventions of like rubbing shoulders with like? Or did he adorn a politically charged event in the trappings of an extravaganza? Regardless of the answer, or maybe because there doesn’t seem to be one, he managed to pull off the party of the century.

[And while it might not quite rival Capote's party, the permanent floating event in Portal 55, Galactic Journey's real-time lounge, is always jumping!  Talk about your favorite SFF, chat with the Traveler and co., relax, sit a spell…]




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Magazine, Science Fiction/Fantasy, Serial

[November 26, 1966] White Boats, Whales and Disch, New Worlds and SF Impulse, December 1966

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by Mark Yon

Scenes from England

Hello again!

In a follow-on from last month’s comments, the rumours of falling sales on both Brit magazines seem to be holding water. This is worrying, especially when both magazines seem to be on a roll, but the one I like most is the lesser-selling of the two. New Worlds definitely presses buttons, but SF Impulse is the one I remember most.

More news as I get it.

Let’s start with New Worlds.

Mike Moorcock’s Editorial this month begins with the sad bit of news that Cordwainer Smith has died and then goes onto write of an aborted attempt to celebrate the centenary of H. G. Wells’ birth.

It is perhaps the last part that may be of interest to regular readers, as Mike (or is it Assistant Editor Langdon Jones?) lets slip some of the findings of the latest New Worlds reader’s survey. Unsurprisingly, the results reflect the changing state of the genre, something that regular readers will not be unaware of.

To the stories!

Echo Round His Bones (Part 1 of 2), by Thomas M Disch

Mr. Disch is everywhere in the Brit magazines at the moment. This month, for example, we have a serial novel and an interview from him over in SF Impulse (more later.) We’ve had poetry, horror stories, science fiction stories, funny stories and weird stories, all in the last six months or so. And here we have the first part of a novel, which takes up almost half of the issue.


Illustration by James Cawthorn

The story is one that uses a lot of science fictional cliches but blends them up into a modern tale. In the near future scientist Panofsky has invented an instantaneous matter transmitter (Star Trek fans, take note.) Captain Nathan Hansard is a United States officer who is transferred with his platoon from Camp Jackson Pensylvania base to Camp Jackson Mars via the transmitter known as The Steel Womb. However, there is an unfortunate side effect. Hansard discovers that whilst being transferred he becomes left in limbo in some sort of in-between realm. As a result, although he is still on Earth, he is like a ghost in that he can walk through walls but cannot communicate easily with people in the ‘normal’ world.

As if that wasn’t strange enough, he also finds out that there are others stranded in this space who can interact with him normally. This is not always good, nor easy – Hansard finds himself pursued by his own soldiers, for example. Much of the middle section of this part of the story is about how Hansard comes to terms with his new environment and survives. He visits his ex-wife and son, only to find that he has become a voyeur and cannot communicate with them. He also has dreams of himself being a soldier and being involved in horrible acts in an unnamed place which looks and sounds like China.

At this point Hansard is rescued by Bridgetta, who we then discover is the wife of Panofsky, the inventor of the transmitter.

It’s a little wobbly to start with. Hansard does not come across well in the first couple of chapters — arrogant and generally unpleasant, which is not an ideal start of a character described as “a hero”. There’s also the odd major dollop of exposition in a tell-not-show kind of way. However, once the plot settles, it is exciting and memorable, shocking and interesting. The fact that there were points where I honestly couldn’t tell where this one was going makes this a good thing. 4 out of 5.

Conjugation, by Chris Priest

We’ve met Chris here before, in the May 1966 issue of Impulse with The Run. This one is different, attempting to be like Ballard’s recent work, cut up into initially disparate sections: a newspaper report, part of a speech for the President, a transcript of a videotape, an entry in an emergency-log and so on, with the verbiage kept to a minimum. Its plot is typically unclear, more an exercise in style but seems to be about an astronaut involved in an accident which seems to involve some sort of implosion. Whilst I liked the fact that the writer is trying to push the genre envelope a little, it didn’t really work for me. In the end no one does this sort of thing like Ballard. 3 out of 5.

The White Boat , by Keith Roberts

Now this was a surprise. This is a Pavane story, a series recently published in Science Fantasy, and to all intents and purposes finished. Admittedly, it was very well regarded and not just by me.

This one is a smaller vignette piece, focussed on a young teenage lobster fisherman named Becky. One night she sees a White Boat out at sea. She becomes obsessed with it and on its return ends up on it. The boat is a smuggler boat, bringing forbidden technology from France to England. Becky is returned to where she lives, to watch as the boat is shot at by soldiers of the Pope.

There’s a lot of the usual Roberts-in-more-serious-mood touches, which I liked, and even some odd vaguely sexual ones, which felt a little out of place. To be honest, the link to the world of Pavane is minimal, but there are connections if you know what to look for to connect this story to the rest.

So why is this coda piece being published in New Worlds? I’m not really sure, but with Roberts acting as Managing Editor, artist and teller of Anita stories (see later) in SF Impulse, perhaps another Roberts story there this month would have been just too much.

I liked it but did not come away quite as impressed as I was with the other stories in the series. 3 out of 5.

Lost Ground, by David Masson

How often have you heard about the weather being oppressive, moody or unsettling? In this story David makes “mood-weather” a reality in the future, where the weather does affect people’s moods, something which future generations pop pills like crazy to alleviate.

It’s good to see the return of an author who made such an impact with his first story published last year, even if more recent tales have been less impressive. However, this one I liked, perhaps because it deals with that most British of conversation topics!


Illustration by James Cawthorn

The rest of the story though does not quite live up its potential. TV reporter Roydon Greenback goes to find his wife Miriel lost in a time-storm, which leads to him being sixty-one years in the future from his original point. It doesn’t end well. Nothing especially wrong with this, it is just a bit predictable.

This one’s more like The Transfinite Choice (New Worlds, June 1966) than Traveller’s Rest (New Worlds, September 1965.) in that it has interesting ideas but not always used well. It does however introduce new words that could be scientific or just made up – chronismologists and poikilochronism, for example. Again, not his best work but far from his worst. 4 out of 5.

The Total Experience Kick, by Charles Platt


Illustration by Unknown Artist

The latest from Platt goes back to the land of The Failures (New Worlds, January 1966), which was all pop-culture and alternative lifestyle drug culture. Our hero is an industrial spy whose Total Experience machine can be used to intensify emotions through music. He is sent to infiltrate the opposition and see their latest development, with a girl involved to complicate things. It’s fun but a bit predictable, rather like rather Jerry Cornelius meets The Beatles, based around some sort of Heath Robinson contraption. I’m assuming that this story may be the inspiration for the cover picture this month. 3 out of 5.

Tomorrow is a Million Years, by J. G. Ballard

Illustration by Unknown Artist

The latest from Mr Ballard is a reprint (see Argosy, October) and also due out as part of a collection soon, I gather. Glanville and his wife Judith are able to travel time and space. They go to the fictional ship Pequod and see Ahab and his crew and talk of Glanville being The Flying Dutchman before the story turns into one of revenge. Still dark and moody but a surprisingly straightforward tale from J. G. It makes me think that this was written a while ago – it is more reminiscent of his Vermillion Sands story collection than more recent work like The Terminal Beach. 4 out of 5.

Book Reviews

This month Hilary Bailey covers a lot of books. This includes Roger Zelazny’s This immortal, Shoot at the Moon by William F. Temple, Make Room! Make Room! by Harry Harrison, Mandrake by Susan Cooper, Damon Knight’s The Other Foot, Sybil Sue Blue by Rosel George Brown, Shepheard Mead’s provocatorily-titled The Carefully Considered Rape of the World, Digits and Dastards by Frederik Pohl and The Fiery Flower by Paul I Wellman. Mike Moorcock also reviews and lists some, very briefly.

No Letters pages again this month.

Summing up New Worlds

Lots of returning authors this month. The Disch is the standout for me, although not perfect, whilst the rest are good but not great overall.

The Second Issue At Hand


And now to SF Impulse. The cover pushes the artwork to one side this month to herald the writers and point out that there is a new Editor-in-Chief, if you didn’t know.

The Editorial is mainly Harry’s version of what happened at the Trieste Film Festival, which Francesco Blamonti reported on last month. In short, the Italians are very enthusiastic about their sf, perhaps more so than us undemonstrative Brits. Does read a little bit like an essay entitled “What me and Arthur C Clarke did on our holidays.”

Inside Out by Kenneth Bulmer and Richard Wilson

The first story this month is co-written by a duo with a long pedigree here in Britain. Ken Bulmer is a prolific author who has been published since the 1950s, but whom you might not know in the US, and Richard Wilson similarly but since the 1940s. As you might expect then this is a straightforward SF tale of the “old-school” variety.

Petty crook Duke Walsh steals a metal box full of money from an alien here on Earth in secret. The box however is not just a storage box, but a replicator, which can replicate almost anything you want. However, Duke, not realising what the box is, takes the money and throws the box away. Short yet memorable. 3 out of 5.

Three Points on the Demographic Curve by Thomas M. Disch

A story from the seemingly ever-present at the moment Mr. Disch. In the overcrowded future of 2440 (I can see why Harry likes this!), Darien Milkthirst (great name!), Investigator, is given the task of finding 56 470 kidnapped children. The kidnapper, Prosper Ashfield, appears and tells Darien that he is from the future. As the Last Man on Earth he is collecting children to repopulate the future Earth. However, the children are indolent and look upon Prosper’s robot companions as their natural superiors. Frustrated, Ashfield begins to select children from throughout history to try and redress the issue. He then goes into deep-freeze to allow the robots to continue their work.

It’s all told in the jaunty manner that the story banner describes as “wry humour”. More good stuff from Mr Disch, that reminds me a little of Robert Sheckley – not a bad thing. 4 out of 5.

The Familiar by Keith Roberts

Illustration by Keith Roberts-  the author!

Another Anita the teenage witch story! Well, not quite, as the focus this time is upon Granny Thompson’s cat. I said that Anita’s last story felt like it was the series coming to an end and this story almost proves it. Anita is a popular character, but I think Keith is starting to scrape the bottom of the barrel with this one. Nevertheless, this is very different to Keith’s other offering in New Worlds this month. As ever with the Anita stories, The Familiar is fun and not to be taken too seriously, but not the strongest Anita story I’ve read. 3 out of 5.

Hell Revisited: An Interview with Kingsley Amis by Thomas M. Disch

Kingsley Amis is a respected author and commentator here in Britain. Harrison in his Editorial describes him as a “friendly critic”, and I would say that this is fair. His book New Maps in Hell has been seen as a critical work in recent years, extolling the virtues of sf to critics who would otherwise sneer at it.

With this in mind then, Disch’s interview is rather revelatory. Amis decries the recent writings of New Wave authors, claiming that to meet mass appeal it has lost some of its key characteristics. All of the authors hallowed in New Maps – Clarke, Pohl, Sheckley and Blish – are now criticised and of the new crowd, Messrs Aldiss, Budrys and Ballard have all disappointed. Even “run-of-the-mill science fiction is even more run-of-the-mill than it used to be”. All of this sounds a bit grumpy, yet Amis puts his points across amiably and logically. Kurt Vonnegut and Anthony Burgess come out of this well. Interesting and thought provoking.

The Real Thing by Eric C. Williams

Another returning author, last seen in Science Fantasy (whatever happened to that ?) back in August 1965. A story of what happens when Holt Mannering hires the spaceship Magpie and her crew for a day to get research for his next book. This involves getting as much realism as possible, which makes the trip rather dangerous. All written in a light-hearted manner – Heinlein it ain’t! 3 out of 5.

The Plot Sickens by Brian W. Aldiss

If the last story was amusing, this one is a lot more fun! In typical Aldiss manner, Brian takes the conceit begun by George Hay in his Synopsis story in Impulse 4 (June 1966) of writing reviews for imaginary science fiction novels and then spoofs it up even more. For example:

Beware the effect of an unbridled Aldiss! Makes its point whilst not savaging the genre, and a nice counterpoint to the Amis interview. Made me grin a lot. 4 out of 5.

The Ice Schooner (part 2 of 3) by Michael Moorcock

Illustration by James Cawthorn

The first part of this story I described last month as a “post-apocalyptic Norse fantasy” introduced us to Konrad Arflane in a future Earth covered in ice. There a man Konrad rescued, Pyotr Rorsefne of Friesgalt, had said that he would like Konrad to take his ship, the Ice Maiden, and sail to the North to find the legendary New York and there the mystical Ice Mother.

The second part this month deals with the exciting but gruesome hunting of whales, and is straight out of Moby Dick. Before the journey North, Konrad has agreed to take Pyotr’s daughter Ulrica (who Konrad fancies), her arrogant husband Janek Ulsenn, and Ulrica’s cousin Manfred whale hunting, along with the legendary harpoonist Long Lance Urquart.

However, the crew of the vessel are inexperienced in whale hunting and the ship is destroyed. Manfred rescues Ulrica but Manfred receives a broken arm and Janek’s legs are broken. Arflane finds himself more and more attracted to Ulrica. Despite her being married and Konrad being warned off by both Janek and Manfred they begin an affair.

The group return to find Pyotr has died. There is a funeral. The will splits the estate between Ulrica and Manfred, with Konrad receiving the command of the Ice Spirit. If he takes on the journey to find New York, the ship and any cargo become his. It is a further condition that Ulrica and Manfred go with Arflane on this quest. Urquart goes too.

With the journey begun, the relationships between the group are strained. After Ulrica’s initial enthusiasm, she now acts coolly towards Konrad. In return, Arflame is moody as a result of Ulrica’s rebuttal. Such taciturn emotions to those around him lead the crew to begin to rumour that Konrad brings a curse with him. There are enormous difficulties faced on their journey, and the story ends as the ship encounters an ice break.

So, lots of excitement. The pace of the first part is maintained this time around. The whale hunt is particularly gruesome, although that is to be expected. Generally, this second part is nearly as good as the first, although there is a dreadfully done sex scene and an utterly convenient plot point that takes the story down a notch. At one point, it all becomes rather like a science fiction version of Lady Chatterley’s Lover, which may be intentional.

Despite this, the story is intriguing and I still like the setting. 3 out of 5.

The Voice of the CWACC by Harry Harrison

Although this is the first time the CWACC have appeared here, there have been previous stories in this series (last seen in the June 1966 issue of Analog – traveller Marcus really didn't like it.) Personally, I am always a little dubious of editors publishing their own work in their magazine – it either displays a great deal of confidence in their own worth or conveniently fills up a gap, neither of which usually bode well. I’m not quite sure which this shows!

It’s a slight tale, meant to be amusing, of scientists (the CWACC) with a new invention – an aircraft recognition system to be used for ground defence. Because of the “highly secret, unpatented, incredibly artful components” it has, it is very successful. The new twist is that the machine is worked internally by a rat – take that, Daniel Keyes! Not bad – energetically silly and fairly forgettable. And no, I still don't know what CWACC stands for! 3 out of 5.

No Letters to the Editor this month.

Summing up SF Impulse

I like the Moorcock, even if it is not quite as good as the part last month. Disch impresses (again) and both the Anita story and Aldiss’s story made me laugh – not easy to do.

Summing up overall

New Worlds is a solid issue from regular writers. SF Impulse impresses more with its stories. Disch or Moorcock? Aldiss or Harrison? Keith Roberts or… Keith Roberts? Hmm. Both issues are good, but I’m going with the SF Impulse (again) this month.

Someone say "Christmas?" All the compliments of the season to you.

Until the next (forward, 1967!)…



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Magazine, Science Fiction/Fantasy, Serial

[November 24, 1966] Middling (December 1966 Amazing)

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by John Boston

Better Red than . . . ?

The December Amazing, all business, with the editorial and letter column seemingly dropped permanently , makes a nice-looking package, with a cover by Frank R. Paul shamelessly dominated by near-fire engine red.  It’s taken from the back cover of the January 1942 Amazing, where it was titled “Glass City of Europa.” The caption there says "Transparent and opaque plastics make this a wonder city of ersatz science.  Transportation is by means of giant, domesticated insects." 


by Frank R. Paul

Interestingly, this cover is not only cropped from the original, as is usual, but altered: someone has airbrushed Jupiter from the upper left-hand corner!  There’s nothing in its place but more red.  Now that’s editing!  Of a sort.

Born Under Mars (Part 1 of 2), by John Brunner

The featured fiction on the cover is the beginning of John Brunner’s two-part serial Born Under Mars.  As usual I will withhold comment (and reading) until both parts are available.  A quick inspection suggests that this one represents Brunner the capable post-pulp storyteller and not the author in his highly variable philosophical mode, the poles represented by his worthy The Whole Man and his unfortunate mess The Bridge to Azrael.


by Gray Morrow

Vanguard of the Lost, by John D. Macdonald

John D. Macdonald is best known for crime fiction—a lot of it.  Since 1950 he has published 40-odd crime novels, most if not all original paperbacks.  His current project is a series of novels about a private eye named Travis McGee—eight of them in three years.  In all this criminous fecundity it’s easily forgotten that Macdonald was once an up-and-coming SF writer, and pretty prolific at that too.  From 1948 to 1952 he published almost 50 stories in the SF magazines, in addition to a number in the borderline-SF pulp Doc Savage, all the while maniacially generating crime stories as well.  He used multiple pseudonyms and sometimes had multiple stories in the same magazine issue.  In his spare time he cranked out two decently-received SF novels, Wine of the Dreamers and Ballroom of the Skies.  A lot of his work was excellent, too; highlights include A Child Is Crying, Flaw, Game for Blondes, and my own favorite, the compact and nasty Spectator Sport, all of them promptly anthologized.


by Julian S. Krupa

Then it all stopped.  He had one last story in 1953 in Fantasy and Science Fiction, and since then it’s been all crime, almost all the time.  He did appear in the Merril annual “best SF” volume a couple of years ago with a weak fantasy from Cosmopolitan, The Legend of Joe Lee, and in 1962 published The Girl, the Gold Watch, and Everything, a crime novel (rather, a farce with some crime and attempted crime in it) with an SF premise: the time-slowing gimmick of Wells’s The New Accelerator and its numerous successors, including Macdonald’s own Half-Past Eternity, a novella for the pulp Super Science Stories in 1950.

Crime, it appears, paid—at least better than SF.  And in fact the SF market of the 1950s could never have accommodated the number of novels he produced.  His post-1952 short fiction, meanwhile, was split between the crime fiction magazines and the more lucrative likes of Cosmopolitan, Collier’s, and the Saturday Evening Post.

After that buildup, it’s unfortunate that Macdonald’s Vanguard of the Lost, from the May 1950 Fantastic Adventures, doesn’t amount to more.  Aliens have landed!  Well, not landed yet, but their fleet of ships is traversing the globe.  Larry Graim, statistician by day and SF writer by night, goes up to his building’s roof to check them out, and meets there Alice, a feisty young woman who proves to be the one who denounces Graim’s work relentlessly in the SF magazine letter columns (“the poor man’s Kuttner and the cretin’s van Vogt”).

Graim is disoriented by the fact that these aliens’ rather beat-up-looking, uncommunicative spaceships first seem to be mapping the earth, and then land and release large machines that start building things with no visible sentient direction.  It’s completely different from the plots he’s familiar with from the SF magazines, so he and Alice go try to figure out what’s behind the seemingly mindless display.  En route there is much mild satire of Everyman reacting to the unprecedented.  The denouement is uninspiring and ends on a note of slapstick, to be followed by wedding bells to complete the meet-cute plot.  It’s readable and vaguely amusing.  Three stars.

The Revolt of the Pedestrians, by David H. Keller, M.D.

The second novelet in the issue is David H. Keller’s first, and probably most famous, story, The Revolt of the Pedestrians (Amazing, Feb. 1928).  In the future, everybody is on wheels, all the time.  The mania for speed has overtaken everything else; the roadways are progressively more dominated by automobiles; pedestrians first become fair game and then are banned altogether, and hounded out of existence—or so it is thought.  By the time of the story, the legs of the ordinary citizen have atrophied, and everyone gets around the house and the office in miniature personal cars.  But . . . hidden in the wilderness, a remnant population of pedestrians is thriving, and scheming, and perfecting their science, and soon they shall declare themselves and their demands. 


by Frank R. Paul

This of course is all quite ridiculous.  But aside from that minor problem, this story is actually pretty good.  It’s well paced in a rambling sort of way, very smoothly written, with engaging central characters, with Keller’s soon-to-be-characteristic expositional chunks going down smoothly, and without the cranky and rancorous ideological overtones of some of his later stories.  And bear in mind that the absurd extrapolations here are a cruder version of the satirical method that later served Galaxy so well (compare Pohl’s The Midas Plague).  Three stars—four if one compares it only to other works of its time.

Dr. Grimshaw's Sanitarium, by Fletcher Pratt

I pinned Fletcher Pratt long ago as one of the more tedious SF writers going (actually, gone: 1897-1956).  I remember as a child trying to force my way through his Double Jeopardy, thinking that if Doubleday published it and it was reprinted as a Galaxy Novel, there must be something to it.  Then I encountered Invaders from Rigel, in which elephantine extraterrestrials turn humans into metal by manipulating radiation, and realized the futility of persevering with it, or with him.  (In fairness, Pratt’s outright fantasy, both his collaborations with L. Sprague de Camp and his unaccompanied work, was much superior.)

The Pratt-fall du jour is Dr. Grimshaw’s Sanitarium, from the May 1934 Amazing.  Our hero John Doherty is sent to the sanitarium by his employer for a rest after his courageous thwarting of a train robbery, which left him with some psychological difficulty.  It soon becomes apparent that Dr. Grimshaw is a sinister character and there’s something funny going on.  He’s turning people into midgets!  Soon enough the Doctor gets wise to Doherty and his friends and really gives them the midget treatment, so they end up having to survive in the grass, which is now apparently taller than they are, and subsist on insects that they manage to kill with makeshift weapons (reportedly, June bugs are reasonably tasty but houseflies are disgusting).  But now the end is near!  Grimshaw’s got a cat, and all is lost.  Two stars, barely.


by Leo Morey

Interestingly (sort of), when editors Leo Margulies and Oscar J. Friend solicited self-nominations for an anthology to be titled My Best Science Fiction Story, published in 1949, Pratt submitted this one, though he did acknowledge rewriting it for a more modern audience.  I did not investigate the revision.

The Flame from Nowhere, by Eando Binder


by Julian S. Krupa

Eando Binder’s The Flame from Nowhere (Amazing, April 1939) is a routine period adventure story: forest fire proves impossible to stop, turns out it’s really an atomic fire, must have atomic fire-fighting methods, our hero quickly whips them up in a flurry of mumbo-jumbo, making the penultimate sacrifice, two stars.  Next!

The Commuter, by Philip K. Dick


by Bill Ashman

Philip K. Dick’s The Commuter, from the August/September 1953 Amazing, during the magazine’s brief flirtation with high pay rates and a stab at higher quality, is one of many facilely clever stories from his early period of prolific glibness.  It starts with a small man asking a railroad clerk for a ticket book to Macon Heights, being told there is no Macon Heights, and disappearing.  It happens again.  A railroad official takes the train and finds it does stop at Macon Heights, which research shows was a proposed development that was rejected by the authorities years ago.  So what’s happening to reality?  The story, which foreshadows more substantial work by Dick on the same theme, is a trifle with a barb; it effectively conveys the official’s fear for his familiar world and life.  Three stars.

He Took It with Him, by Clark Collins

The issue concludes with He Took It With Him, by Clark Collins, actually a pseudonym of Mack Reynolds, who mostly used it for articles in men’s magazines, such as Beat’s Guide to Paris, in French Frills for October-December of this year (Beat?  In 1966?  What a square.) and Guide to Fallen Women in Sir Knight in 1961.  This story is from the April 1950 Fantastic Adventures. Bentley, a selfish rich guy with cancer who’s got a year to live, buys a noted scientist with a promise to build the research institute the scientist dreams of if he will only figure out how to preserve Bentley until such time as he can be revived and cured.  The new Institute will be charged with keeping him safe, and also hiding his money, converted to gold and diamonds, until he is awakened to (of course) a nasty surprise that’s not too obvious to the reader.  Readable, modestly clever, three stars.


by H. W. MacCauley

Summing Up

So, a middling reading experience—nothing too terrible, most of it at least agreeably readable, one surprise from the unlikely source of Dr. Keller, and the prospect of the Brunner serial pending. 

(For an excellent experience, you don't want to miss Part 2 of "The Menagerie", the next episode of Star Trek — join us tonight at 8:30 PM (Pacific AND Eastern — two showings)!!)

Here's the invitation!



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Magazine, Science Fiction/Fantasy

[November 22, 1966] Ha ha.  Very funny.  (December 1966 Fantasy and Science Fiction)

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by Gideon Marcus

Joke's on me

I have a buddy in the Costume Designers Guild (you know her, too — she's Gwyn Conaway).  She keeps me up to date with the inside dope on Hollywood.  One tidbit she offered up recently was something she paraphrased from a manual for actors published this year: the last words of the actor, Edmund Gwenn, who passed away in 1959.  A visitor to his deathbed exclaimed that his final ordeal must be hard for him.

Gwenn replied, "Dying is easy.  Comedy is hard."

I think it was in Lighthouse, a fanzine for pros, that Lester del Rey suggested more writers should go into comedy rather than flogging the same tired "serious" science fiction canards.  The problem is that humor is harder than seriosity.  An inexerpt attempt to make one laugh produces the opposite effect.

And God help us all if an editor decides to fill an entire magazine with failed attempts.  This month's Fantasy and Science Fiction, for example…

No laughing matter


by Howard Purcell

Sabotage, by Christopher Anvil

Chris Anvil normally writes for Analog.  His stories often pit humans outstmarting aliens with a bit of clever sophistry those stupid ETs (inevitably made of straw) could never conceive of, let alone counter.  How one of these tales got into F&SF, I'll never know.

The setup: the vaporous Tamar and Earth are in a stalemated war.  Earth has the technology, but Tamar has the psychology.  They possess our people and try to sabotage our efforts.  None of their attempts have been particularly successful, but the latest threatens to be a doozy.  College students are becoming increasingly disaffected by something they're being taught, and while the immediate effect is small, the cascade could be disastrous.  Luckily, Officer McAmerican (every character's name is in Rank Surname format) is able to counter the insidious teaching with a lesson plan of his own.

Obviously, this is some kind of anti-Communist metaphor; again, one wonders why Campbell didn't pick it up.  Perhaps he's full up on Anvil stories.  F&SF may pay more these days, too.  Anyway, Sabotage is three times longer than it needs to be — or it's infinity times longer, if you feel the story never needed to be written.

Two stars.


by Gahan Wilson

The Mystery of the Purloined Grenouilles, by Gerald Jonas

In his first published story, Jonas gives us a baroquely told tale of a man who creates energy through reverse Galvanism: he hooks frogs up to a generator and tickles their legs.

Two stars.

Doubting Thomas, by Thomas M. Disch

Disch is an author who started so promisingly, but if this story, of a computer designed to suss out the veracity of magical events, is any indicaton of where he's headed, he might as well throw in the Smith-Corona. 

It just ain't funny, nor is it fun to read.  One stars.

The Martian Atmosphere, by Theodore L. Thomas

The "science" article describes what we know about the components of Mars' atmosphere.  Thomas seems to believe that because there's no oxygen that something must have happened to it.  Which presupposes it was ever there in the first place.  He also assumes that the carbon dioxide that makes up the majority of the Martian atmosphere is a byproduct of respiration.

At some point, we're going to have to come to terms with the fact that there's no life on Mars.

Two stars.

Von Goom's Gambit, by Victor Contoski

Take any position of the pieces on the chessboard. Usually it tells of the logical or semi-logical plans of the players, their strategy in playing for a win or a draw, and their personalities. If you see a pattern from the King's Gambit Accepted, you know that both players are tacticians, that the fight will be brief but fierce. A pattern from the Queen's Gambit Declined, however, tells that the players are strategists playing for minute advantages, the weakening of one square or the placing of a Rook on a half-opened file. From such patterns, pleasing or displeasing, you can tell much not only about the game and the players but also about man in general, and perhaps even about the order of the universe.

Contoski's tale, also apparently his first, is about an opening so repulsive, it is irresistible.  I'm a sucker for chess stories, and this is the first readable piece in the issue. 

Three stars.

The Green Snow, by Miriam Allen deFord

At first, it seems deFord will provide a bulwark against the droll tide.  After all, deFord is quite deft with menace and creep, skilled at eliciting deep and dark emotion, but she doesn't do comedy.  Thus, while a story that begins with the gentle falling of green-tinted snowflakes could have been a romp for others, in deFord's hands, it's clear we're in for a horror.

She executes it well-enough, though there's something of the last decade about it in its flavor.  But then, as if prodded by an editor overeager to have every story fit his chosen theme for the month, deFord adds a heavy handed joke at the end.

Which, of course, falls flat.  deFord doesn't do comedy…

The Gods, by L. Sprague de Camp

If there is humor in this short poem about the passage of the gods from human devotion, it is ironic.  In all fairness, I did enjoy this piece quite a bit.

Four stars.

The Symbol-Minded Chemist, by Isaac Asimov

The always good-humored Doctor A manages to stave off the jokeyness for another dozen pages, writing on the origin of chemistry's alphabet soup.  I always enjoy etymological articles, although the list of elements by alphabetical order of their chemical name seems a bit of padding.

Four stars.

Bumberboom, by Avram Davidson

It is centuries after The Bomb, and the resulting, almost anarchic society that sprawls across the Eastern Seaboard is threatened by Bumberboom.  It is a great cannon, though it has not fired a shot in generations, tended by an increasingly inbred crew, whose Captain Mog, somewhere between an idiot and a moron, is the brightest of the bunch.

Enter Mallian, son of Hazelip, who sees the ancient gun as an opportunity to carve a feudal realm out of the upstate New York, with him as its sovereign.

Bumberboom reads something like a cross between Jack Vance and R. A. Lafferty, combining the poetic resonance and creative settings that are the signatures of the former with the sometimes incomprehensible whimsy of the latter.  Davidson's problem is that when he decides to go for funny, he often writes himself into a twisted corner, his sentences meandering to get free of themselves.

Still, once you're into it, it's not so bad. Three stars.

The punchline

But not so bad is also not so good.  My nephew, David, called me last month to let me know he'd let his subscription to F&SF lapse.  I told him he was overreacting, that things had gotten better since Ferman had taken over from Davidson.  Now I can already hear an "I told you so" coming my way.

No joke!


Not me this month.



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Science Fiction/Fantasy, TV

[November 20 1966] Doctor…Who? (Doctor Who: The Power Of The Daleks [Part 1])

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By Jessica Holmes

It was with a mix of curiosity and trepidation that I tuned into Doctor Who this month. The character we know and love has vanished forever, and in his place is a stranger– A stranger who calls himself the Doctor. But is it really the same man? Once again, we have to ask the essential question that the programme was founded on. Doctor…who?

The Doctor sits up, clutching his head.

EPISODE ONE

The first episode begins with a great deal of confusion as the strange man in the place of the Doctor comes to his senses. Polly takes him to be the same old Doctor, but Ben’s not so sure– and neither am I. For one thing, he looks completely different. Even his clothes have changed. So it’s not as if he’s been ‘de-aged’ or something like that. By the way the stranger himself reacts, testing out his muscles and joints, it’s a wholly new body.

And yet, a familiar face peers back at him in his reflection.

He himself doesn’t seem certain of his identity, referring to the Doctor in the third person despite apparently sharing the Doctor’s memories.

The Second Doctor looks into a mirror. The face reflected is that of the First Doctor.

Well, if there’s any quintessentially Doctorish trait, it’s being clear as mud.

Oh, and he plays the recorder now, and has absolutely terrible taste in hats. At any given moment in the episode, I think Ben might be about to snatch the recorder from him and use it as a deadly weapon, and to be honest, I can’t blame him. The recorder is not a musical instrument, it is a torture method designed to torment parents of young children.

The group leave the TARDIS to have a look around, finding themselves in the mercury swamps of the planet Vulcan. The swamps are a dangerous place to be, as the Doctor(?) learns when he runs into a bloke who gets shot halfway through introducing himself as an Examiner from Earth. Ben and Polly run afoul of the mercury fumes, and the Doctor himself gets a nasty crack over the head, courtesy of the other man’s killer. The mystery man plants a button in the Doctor’s hand before dragging the corpse away.

The Doctor walks through the mercury swamps. He is reading a book, not paying attention to his surroundings. He is also wearing a stovepipe hat.

Fortunately for the group, they’re found by a couple of men from the nearby colony: Bragen, Head of Security, and Quinn, Deputy Governor. They’re dressed identically to the assassin, but it’s impossible to tell if one of them did the deed.

Believing him to be the Examiner (the Doctor doesn’t bother to correct them), the pair bring the Doctor and company back to the colony, where there’s trouble afoot. A rebellion quietly simmers beneath the surface, and a mysterious capsule has been found in the swamps.

Investigating further, it soon turns out that the capsule perhaps ought to have stayed there. There are Daleks inside! Dead Daleks, but they could still be terribly dangerous.

The Doctor discovers the Daleks

And there’s something in there that doesn’t seem entirely dead, but it scuttles away before they can get a good look at it. Whatever it is, it can't be good.

Things get off to a mysterious start in this episode, taking its time to introduce our new leading actor before launching into the intriguing mysteries of the Vulcan colony. Why was the Examiner summoned? Who killed him? What are the Daleks up to this time?  I'm having a lot of fun.

Lesterson and a Dalek

EPISODE TWO

The group soon discover something even worse– not only does it appear that there are Daleks in here, one of them seems to be missing. The Doctor suspects that Lesterson, the head scientist, has been experimenting. One Dalek, a colony in strife… it’s a recipe for disaster.

He confronts Lesterson on the missing Dalek, urging him to destroy it. With Lesterson refusing to yield to his authority, the Doctor goes in search of a meeting with the Governor.

Which he doesn’t get. But he does get some fruit! Sure, there are listening devices hidden inside, but an apple is an apple and reincarnation/renewal is presumably hungry work. Unable to meet with the Governor, the Doctor decides to send a radio message back to Earth. Hopefully there’s some higher authority who will listen to him.

The Doctor tinkers with a device as Ben and Polly look on.

The Doctor finds the radio engineer unconscious and the equipment broken, and a rather suspicious-looking Quinn holding a pair of shears.

Bragen arrives, and when the Doctor shows him the button from his attacker, he recognises it as one of Quinn’s and arrests him on the spot.

In true B-movie fashion, Lesterson and his team try to wake up the Dalek by pumping it full of electricity. It works a little too well, shooting one of his lab assistants. What did they expect?

A man lies unconscious on the floor. A woman, Janley, listens to his chest. There is a Dalek looming over them.

Quinn’s hauled before the Governor for an inquiry, and the evidence doesn’t look too good for him. Lesterson interrupts proceedings, bursting in to tell them about his new breakthrough. The Dalek is awake, active, and apparently ready to serve.

And it recognises the Doctor. Somehow. Maybe it can see something we can't?

The new Doctor continues to grow on me in this episode, his more serious side beginning to peep through the clownish exterior. The plot’s coming along nicely, and I’m none too sure what to make of the characters. I don’t feel like there’s anyone we can trust here, except perhaps Ben and Polly.

A view of the Doctor through the Dalek's eyestalk. Ben is also visible.

EPISODE THREE

Despite the Doctor’s protestations, the Governor gives Lesterson permission to continue his work on the Daleks. Continuing Quinn’s inquiry, Bragen accuses him of being in league with the rebels. Quinn protests that he was the one who sent for the Examiner in the first place, so why would he attack him? Unconvinced, the Governor strips him of his position and promotes Bragen in his place.

It’s all coming together for Bragen, who it turns out is in league with Lesterson’s lab assistant Janley to take over the colony. Janley’s in league with the rebels, but she’s planning on betraying them as soon as they cease to be useful. She also reveals that Lesterson’s other assistant died of his injuries, but she hasn’t told him that.

So many twists and turns!

Janley and Bragen conspire together.

Seeing Polly and her inquisitiveness as a potential threat, Janley lures Polly to the communications room where an accomplice knocks her out. She rewards him with the Dalek’s gun-stick.

The Dalek’s curiosity and intelligence continues to impress Lesterson, and he’s especially intrigued when it offers to build him a perfect computer. However, when he leaves the room it immediately increases the power supply to the capsule. Gee, a Dalek being up to no good, who’d have guessed?

The Doctor and Ben arrive to find two more Daleks emerging from the capsule, and wisely decide to run away. Lesterson still doesn’t believe that the Daleks are dangerous, and asks Bragen (who the Governor has left in charge while he’s away) to give him a guard.

Three Daleks

Ben reports Polly’s disappearance to Bragen, but the Deputy Governor has bad news for the Doctor: they’ve found the real examiner’s body out in the swamps.

But how would he know that? The only people to have seen the real examiner were the Doctor and the assassin.

With the Doctor having leverage over him, Bragen backs off on arresting him, but orders him to leave Lesterson alone.

In case the Doctor needs any more incentive, somebody slips a note under the door. Polly’s safe…. As long as the Doctor stops interfering with the Dalek experiments.

The Doctor confronts Bragen as Ben looks on.

Final Thoughts

So far, this is an excellent story that moves along at a good pace, delivering some fun twists and turns without becoming too convoluted. I’m looking forward to seeing where it’s all headed.

I’ll save the further ruminations on the plot for next time. The real point of interest in this story is our new leading actor. Patrick Troughton is credited as Dr. Who, but is he truly the same character?

Let’s look at the facts: He has the same memories, and we saw the original Doctor turn into this second Doctor on-screen. With all the strange things that happen in Doctor Who, a change of appearance isn’t too far out of the ordinary.

What makes it more complicated is the change in personality. Troughton’s a younger man, and he acts like it. His Doctor is quite unpredictable, often somewhat childish and playful, undercut with moments of sudden seriousness. The cadence of his speech is also his own, when he does deign to talk instead of tootling away on that blasted recorder.

The Doctor sits cross-legged, playing a recorder.

He’s a different person…and yet, somehow, he still feels like the Doctor to me. There’s a sort of je-ne-sais-quoi, a vague idea of the Doctor, a spirit of mischief and genius that feels in a way like the soul of the character. I think I still recognise that in him.

It’s all a bit philosophical, isn’t it? After all, my personality when I was a child is different in many ways to my personality as an adult, but I’m still the same person. These changes happen gradually to all of us. Perhaps they just happened all at once to the Doctor.

After all, if he has a whole new body, his brain is different too, so who knows what effect his altered brain physiology has had?

In conclusion, I have no idea.

Perhaps the more important question is: do I like this new Doctor?

Promotional image of Patrick Troughton as the Doctor, wearing a stovepipe hat. Image courtesy of the BBC.

That’s a lot easier. Yes. I like him very, very much. He is enormous fun to watch. He’s genuinely funny, and utterly compelling when he turns serious.

This is not Hartnell’s Doctor, but it’s not trying to be, either. I think that’s a good thing. I’ll miss him, but I do feel the new chap has breathed new life into the programme. We’ve just opened the door to a whole new world of character development, and opened a can of unpredictability.

I can’t wait to see what’s in store for our second Doctor.




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Science Fiction/Fantasy, TV

[November 18, 1966] Environmental Disasters and the War of the Sexes: Space Patrol Orion, Episode 5, "Battle for the Sun"

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by Cora Buhlert

Of Geese, Saints and Lanterns

November 11 is St. Martin's Day or Martinmas, a popular holiday in many parts of West Germany.

For those of you not familiar with Roman Catholic saints, St. Martin was a Roman soldier who converted to Christianity and became bishop of Tours in the fourth century AD. According to legend, he cut his cloak in half with his sword to share it with a naked beggar.

St. Martin's Day
Children celebrate St. Martin's Day with homemade paper lanterns.
St. Martin's Day
Children with lanterns at a St. Martin's Day procession in the West German town of Uerdingen.
St. Martin's Day
And here is the holy man himself, greeting the children assembled in his honour.

In West Germany, St. Martin's Day is traditionally celebrated with a procession of children singing and carrying paper lanterns. In some regions, the children go from house to house to ask for sweets similar to trick or treating in the US. In other regions, the night ends with a St. Martin bonfire.

At home, the family enjoys a roast goose, traditionally served with dumplings and red cabbage, in reference to another legend associated with St. Martin, namely that he hid in a goose shed in order to avoid being elected bishop. However, as anybody who has ever encountered them knows, geese tend to be very noisy and so St. Martin was found and elected bishop anyway.

St. Martin's Day goose
Traditionally, the roast St. Martin's Day goose is served with dumplings and red cabbage. However, more modern recipes such as this one with stuffed tomatoes and another one with baked apples with cranberry sauce and croquettes are also becoming more common.

A Mysterious Discovery

Space Patrol Orion title screen

However, West German science fiction fans were a lot more excited about the day after St. Martin's Day, because the latest episode of Raumpatrouille: Die phantastischen Abenteuer des Raumschiffs Orion (Space Patrol: The Fantastic Adventures of the Spaceship Orion) aired.

"Der Kampf um die Sonne" (Battle for the Sun) plunges us right in medias res, when the Orion makes a remarkable discovery. The planetoid N116a has uncommonly high temperatures, a breathable atmosphere and lower forms of plant life, all of which should be impossible, since N116a is supposed to be a dead rock in space.

Security officer Tamara Jagellovsk (Eva Pflug) points out that the general staff has been conferring for weeks now and wonders whether the Orion's discovery might have anything to do with this. At any rate, it's a mystery worth investigating, so Tamara officially authorises Commander Cliff Alister McLane (Dietmar Schönherr) to land on N116a (once again portrayed by a spoil tip in Peißenberg, Bavaria) and take samples.

Space Patrol Orion
The Orion crew stares very intently at the planetoid N116a on the screen.

Tamara and McLane still banter and argue a lot. However, by now the banter is a lot friendlier and – dare I say it – flirtatious. This is not lost on the rest of the Orion crew, who watch the sparks fly with a mixture of amusement (Hasso and Mario) and jealousy (Helga Legrelle). Indeed, Helga (Ursula Lillig) decides to tease Tamara by elaborating in great detail about all the time she spent with McLane while on leave. Though McLane is not a good dancer, Helga notes, because he refuses to let himself go.

Orion Helga and Tamara
Helga Legrelle (Ursula Lillig) teases Tamara Jagellovsk by detailing all the time off she'd spent with McLane. Tamara, however, is not very impressed.
Orion Helga and Tamara
Helga tells Tamara all about McLane's dancing abilities.

Putting the Science in Science Fiction

The scene switches to Earth, where familiar faces such as General Wamsler (Benno Sterzenbach) and Colonel Villa (Friedrich Joloff) are conferring about an alarming phenomenon. The activity of the sun and the frequency and duration of solar flares have increased dramatically, causing the Earth to heat up. The majority of humanity lives on the ocean floor and are insulated from the intense heatwaves. But the polar caps are about the melt, causing the sea levels to rise, which will lead to massive floods. Furthermore, the intense heat will turn Earth's surface into desert. The Orion's discovery on N116a confirms those theories. The big question is, who or what is causing the increased solar activity? Is it a natural phenomenon or is someone manipulating the sun? And if so, who? The Frogs are out, since they live in a distant star system. So are there other unknown extraterrestrials out there?

Orion may emphasise the "fiction" in "science fiction", but there is solid science behind the Earth heating up. Earth's climate tends to oscillate widely from ice ages to warm periods. Charles Greeley Abbot theorized that changes in climate are linked to sun spot activity – a theory that Orion borrowed for this episode. However, a far more likely culprit is the so-called "greenhouse effect", i.e. carbon dioxide in atmosphere functioning like the glass panes of a greenhouse, causing the Earth to heat up, which was discovered by Svante Arrhenius in 1896. In recent years, Roger Revelle and Charles David Keeling have proven that carbon dioxide levels in the atmosphere are rising, due to emissions from industry and traffic, and that the greenhouse effect is real. Edward Teller warns that if carbon dioxide emissions keep rising, heatwaves, melting polar caps and rising sea levels will become a genuine problem in our future and not just a plot for a TV series. [The threat of a catastrophic heating on a global scale was the topic of one of our earliest articles (ed.)]

The generals need more data, so the Orion is sent to take more samples. On the planetoid N108, the Orion crew makes an even more remarkable discovery: a shuttlecraft of a type unknown to them. When Atan Shubashi (F.G. Beckhaus) investigates the mysterious craft, he finds himself faced with two human-looking men in spacesuits. The strangers hold Atan at gunpoint and force him into their shuttle, but Mario de Monti (Wolfgang Völz) manages to disable the shuttle with a well-placed shot. McLane and Hasso Sigbjörnson (Claus Holm) overwhelm the strangers and take them prisoner.

Orion Chroma scientist
One of the mysterious strangers the Orion crew takes prisoner.

The Hour of the Generals

Interrogations reveal that not only are the two men human, but they are scientists sent to investigate the same phenomenon that attracted the Orion's attention. The two scientists come from Chroma, a distant world that was settled by refugees from the Second Galactic War. The earthly authorities had no idea that Chroma even exists and the Chromans, disillusioned after finding themselves on the losing side of the Second Galactic War, like it that way.

However, Chroma has emerged from hiding in the most dramatic way possible, since they are behind the increased solar activity. The why is still a mystery.

Naturally, the assembled generals are willing to assume the worst. After all, the Chromans were rebels and enemies in the Second Galactic War, plus they managed to hide from Earthly intelligence services for centuries. And they are heating up the sun, so of course they must be hostile. "This means war," Marshall Kublai-Krim (Hans Cossy) declares.

However, not everybody is quite as war-mongering as Kublai-Krim and Sir Arthur (Franz Scharfheitlin). Colonel Villa is a lot more cautious, because if the Chromans have the ability to heat up the sun, they could have other unknown technologies as well. "If we threaten them, they might press the button first," Villa says, "And we don't know what buttons they have."

A Secret Mission for McLane

McLane is relaxing in his swanky undersea bachelor pad, when he receives a call from a scientist named Dr. Stass, who wants to know if the soil samples the Orion crew took may have gotten mixed up or contaminated. Because the samples contain solar matter, which means that the planetoids could be transformed into mini suns. Sigh. The episode was doing so well with regard to scientific accuracy, but now we're back to imaginary science.

Orion McLane's bachelor pad
McLane is relaxing in his very swanky bachelor and shows off his chest hair, even in colour.

McLane believes that this new discovery might persuade Chroma to leave our sun alone and transform the planetoids instead. However, he can neither reach General Wamsler nor Colonel Villa, so he calls Tamara to ask her to use her clout to get him an interview with Villa. McLane catches Tamara in the shower and in the process gets a glimpse of what she looks like below the neck. Personally, I'm far more interested in how her beehive survived the shower.

Colonel Villa no more wants war than McLane does and agrees to send the Orion on a secret mission to Chroma, supposedly to return the two captured scientists, but in truth to negotiate. He also warns McLane that if anything goes wrong, the government will deny all knowledge of this mission. And if Earth decides to launch a preventive strike against Chroma, no one will care about the Orion and her crew.

Orion McLane and Chroma scientist
One of the captured Chroman scientists watches McLane very intently.

McLane is not deterred and so the Orion sets off for Chroma. The Chromans are hostile initially, but direct the Orion to a landing area. When the crew gets their first glimpse of Chroma, they are stunned how lush and green the planet is. "Looks like they also have nature preserves, just like us," Mario muses, "But why are they telling us to land our ship here?"

Orion lands on Chroma
The Orion lands on Chroma, portrayed here by a golf course in Feldafing, Bavaria.

One thing I like about Orion is how the show casually imparts information about the wider world, even though ninety percent of it takes place either aboard spaceships or in the general staff's conference room. Not only do we learn more about the two galactic wars (briefly mentioned in the first episode), but we also learn that Earth has a serious pollution problem and that unspoiled land is apparently at a premium.

Planet of Women

After landing on Chroma, the Orion is surrounded by a magnetic field. Only McLane is allowed to leave with one of the captured scientists. The other scientist remains behind aboard to assure the ship's safety.

Chroma turns out to be not at all what McLane or anybody else expected. The world is not only lush and green, but also remarkably peaceful. The turreted government building (portrayed by Höhenried castle on the shores of the Starnberg lake) with its crystal chandeliers, shag carpets and wrought iron gates, is a far cry from the austere modernity of the conference rooms on Earth.

Even more remarkable is that every single Chroman official McLane meets is an attractive woman (one of them portrayed by Danish actress and singer Vivi Bach, Dietmar Schönherr's real life wife). For it turns out that Chroma is a matriarchal society. Men, as one of the Chroman women notes, are useful as gardeners, scientists and parade soldiers, but way too warlike for anything else.

Raumpatrouille Orion Chroma
McLane enjoys the company of two attractive Chroman officials.
Orion Chroman official
One of the attractive Chroman officials (Rosemarie von Schacht). Even though Chroma has not been in contact with Earth's for centuries, they share the preference for beehives.
Orion Chroma official No. 2
The second of the attractive Chroman officials is played by Dietmar Schönherr's real life wife, Vivi Bach.
Orion Chroma
A Chroman official offers McLane coffee, but McLane is tired of being kept waiting. We hope for the sake of Vivi Bach that Dietmar Schönherr is better behaved at the coffee table than his alter-ego.
Orion Dietmar Schönherr and Vivi Bach
Dietmar Schönherr and his wife Vivi Bach in costume on location at Höhenried castle.

The planet controlled by women is an old science fiction cliché, found in "The Last Man" by Wallace G. West, "The Priestess Who Rebelled" and "The Judging of the Priestess" by Nelson S. Bond, "Consider Her Ways" by John Wyndham, "The Feminine Metamorphosis" by David H. Keller, "Virgin Planet" by Poul Anderson and many others. Such stories are born out of men's fear of female equality and often offensive. So how will Orion handle this timeworn plot?

Venture science fiction

When McLane finally gets to meet Her, ruler of Chroma, (played by Margot Trooger, whom Journey readers may remember from her role as Cora Ann Milton in The Ringer and Again, the Ringer), he reacts like men always react in such stories, namely with incredulity and outrage, for how can these women not recognise or respect male superiority?

Orion Chroma She
She, ruler of Chroma, is seated behind her desk.
Orion Chroma
She offers McLane a drink, in colour even.
Orion Chroma
McLane and She admire the Chroman scenery

She, on the other hand, gives as good as she gets. At one point, when an outraged McLane is out of words, She suggests that he could try yelling some more. We also learn that Chroma's sun is fading, which is the reason for the attempt to heat up our sun. And no, the Chromans did not consider the effects their experiments might have, but then Earth scientists don't particularly care about that sort of thing either. However, She is willing to stop the experiments, should the data from the planetoids turn out to be promising.

Orion Margot Trooger
No matter how urgent McLane's pleas, She (Margot Trooger) will not budge.

McLane tries to convince Her of the urgency of his mission and point-blank tells her that Earth will launch a preventive strike, if the experiments are not stopped at once. "That is so typical of Earth – and of men," She replies.

The scenes between McLane and Her are a delight. Dietmar Schönherr is excellent at balancing McLane's occasional macho outbursts with the fact that he is a good man and wants to stop a war and save lives. Meanwhile, Margot Trooger is so radiant and commanding as Her that you have no problems believing that She rules an entire planet.

McLane and She on Chroma
McLane seems uncommonly fascinated by Her shag carpet. Or maybe he has dropped something.

A Very Average Kiss

Things heat up, when the Orion receives a coded message that a preventive strike is imminent. Atan and Hasso are confident that they can break through the magnetic field, but they are no more willing to leave McLane behind than he would abandon any one of them.

So Tamara sets off with the remaining Chroman scientist to warn McLane. Unlike her male comrades, Tamara talked to the scientists and realised that the Chromans are more likely to listen to a woman.

Tamara is arrested and thrown into a cell together with McLane. Since they both believe they're about to die, the normally so uptight Tamara loosens up and tells McLane that she's sorry that they spent so much time arguing. And then Tamara does something she always wanted to do and kisses McLane.

"Well, now I'm relieved," Tamara says, once their lips part, "'Cause that was a very average kiss." McLane is about to sputter in outrage, but before he can Tamara decides to put McLane's kissing abilities to the test once more.

Orion A very average kiss
Tamara and McLane share "a very average kiss"
Tamara McLane kiss
And once more in colour.

Our genre is not very good with emotions, romance, kissing and all that mushy stuff – see the uncomfortable kissing scenes in Forbidden Planet. But even if the bar is not very high, McLane's and Tamara's kiss is probably my favourite kiss in all of science fiction and Tamara's comment about McLane being a very average kisser made me love her even more.

Tamara's ongoing examination of McLane's kissing abilities is interrupted by Her, who shows up to inform them that She ordered the solar experiments stopped. When McLane wants to know why She waited until the last instant, She replies that She knew Earth would declare war as soon as she heard about the devastating effects of the experiments. However, She was playing for time, because She did not expect Earth to attack while the Orion was still on Chroma. But what can one expect of men?

However, while She may still not be a fan of men in general, She has developed a liking for a particular member of the male sex, namely Cliff Alister McLane. And so She has requested McLane to remain on Chroma as a special envoy. General Wamsler finds this hilarious, while resident womaniser Mario de Monti pouts that he was not chosen to stay on Chroma with all those attractive women. Helga and Tamara, meanwhile, are not amused at all.

It's a Women's World

Space Patrol Orion keeps getting better and better. "Battle for the Sun" took a cliched science fiction plot and did something interesting with it. Unlike most "Planet of Women" stories, the Chromans are actually in the right, while Earth – or at least the generals – comes off pretty badly.

The portrayal of the generals mirrors the general scepticism towards the military, particularly the higher ranks, in post-WWII West Germany. For people have not yet forgotten that it was war mongers like Sir Arthur or Marshall Kublai-Krim who sent out thousands of soldiers to die in a war that was already lost. Orion doesn't fall into the trap of portraying all military commanders negatively, either. Colonel Villa, General Wamsler, General Van Dyke, and of course McLane himself are all essentially good people who want to save lives. Meanwhile, the worries about pre-emptive strikes are inspired by contemporary fears about nuclear war, which would devastate West (and East) Germany.

Even though the focus is on McLane and Tamara, the rest of the Orion crew as well as the supporting cast like Villa, Wamsler, Spring-Brauner or Lydia Van Dyke all have distinct personalities. The show also tends to reuse the same characters in supporting roles. For example, the two scientists explaining the plot in "Battle of the Sun" are both characters we've seen before.

But what I love most about Space Patrol Orion is that the show gives us so many great and varied female characters. Our genre is not good at portraying women and one decent female character is often all we can hope for. Orion, however, gives us three female main characters in Tamara, Helga and Lydia Van Dyke as well as female guest characters such as Ingrid Sigbjörnson or Margot Trooger's Her.

Another great episode with a lot to say about war, gender and the environment.

Five stars.

Das Magazin November 1966
The latest parcel from my East German aunt included the November 1966 issue of "Das Magazin" with a striking cover.
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Science / Space Race

[November 16, 1966] A Grand Finale (Gemini 12)

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by Kaye Dee

As I write, it’s less than a day since the splashdown of Gemini 12 brought NASA’s second manned spaceflight programme to an overwhelmingly successful conclusion, demonstrating that the Space Agency has finally mastered the art of spacewalking. It’s incredible to think that it’s only been 20 months since the first manned Gemini mission was launched, but the packed schedule of ten flights has tested out all the techniques that the space agency needs to advance to its Apollo lunar programme.

Two for the Show

Gemini 12's Command Pilot was former Naval aviator Captain Jim Lovell (left in photo above). Making his second spaceflight, Lovell previously flew on the Gemini 7 long duration mission and now holds the record for the longest time spent in space by any astronaut or cosmonaut. Pilot for this mission was rookie astronaut USAF Major Edwin “Buzz” Aldrin, who performed an unprecedented three successful extravehicular activities (EVAs) during this flight. The only member of the astronaut corps to hold a Doctorate, Aldrin is a specialist in rendezvous and docking techniques, and on this mission he put that knowledge to very good use.

A “Halloween” Patch

Gemini 12 was originally scheduled to launch on October 31, so Lovell and Aldrin had considered a Halloween theme for their mission patch. They wanted to evoke Halloween with the use of orange and black colours and also planned to show their Gemini capsule launched on a witch’s broomstick instead of a rocket! However, with the launch rescheduled to November, only the Halloween colour-scheme remained of the original concept.

The final design features the Roman numeral XII at the top of the round patch, in the position it would be on a clock-face. Just like an hour hand, the Gemini spacecraft points to the XII, a reminder that this is the final flight of the Gemini programme. The crescent Moon on the left side of the patch symbolises the ultimate goal of the upcoming Apollo programme.

Training for Weightlessness

Gemini 12's main goal was to complete three EVAs that would demonstrate that NASA had finally cracked the problem of successfully carrying out spacewalking operations, a technique crucial to the Apollo programme.

The astronauts who attempted to perform spacewalks on Gemini 9, 10 and 11, had all reported that operating in orbit was much more difficult and tiring than the simulations conducted using the KC-135 weightlessness training aircraft. They also complained that there were few handholds on the exterior of the Gemini and Agena to help them move around in Zero-G. Consequently, a new approach to training was employed for Gemini 12, which I understand was suggested by Astronaut Aldrin himself, who is a keen scuba diver.


"Buzz" Aldrin practices installing a handrail between the Gemini capsule and Agena target vehicle, in an underwater training simulation

In addition to the KC-135 flights, Aldrin trained in a large pool containing a Gemini mockup. In the pool, special weights were added to the astronaut’s spacesuit to create “neutral buoyancy,” offsetting gravity so he would neither rise nor sink, and Aldrin spent several EVA simulation training sessions of more than two hours underwater.

As well as this new training technique, more handrails and handholds were added to the Gemini capsule, along with a waist tether that would enable Aldrin to turn wrenches and retrieve experiment packages without too much effort.

Dr. Rendezvous Saves the Day, Again!

After two delays caused by technical issues, the final Gemini mission lifted off on the afternoon of November 11 US time. On its third orbit, Gemini 12 prepared to dock with the Agena target vehicle, but problems with the Gemini's onboard radar threatened to make that impossible.

Luckily, Aldrin had already developed procedures for onboard backup rendezvous techniques in the event of radar failure. Drawing on his expertise, Aldrin used a sextant and his slide rule, measuring the angle between the horizon and the Agena. Once he had confirmed the information with his rendezvous chart, Aldrin calculated corrections with the spacecraft’s computer, enabling the rendezvous and docking to be successfully accomplished.

Rendezvous with the Sun

Despite the successful rendezvous, some anomalies with the Agena’s turbopump during launch led to Mission Control cancelling a planned boost to a higher orbit, like that conducted on Gemini 11. Instead, NASA took the opportunity to have the crew photograph a solar eclipse through the spacecraft windows at the beginning of mission day two.

Using the Agena’s secondary propulsion system, Gemini 12 changed orbits to place itself above South America at the right time and location to capture the first colour images of a total solar eclipse free from the interference of the Earth’s atmosphere. During the scant eight seconds that the astronauts could view the eclipse, they snapped four images that are expected to help scientists discover the secrets of the solar corona. The pictures were taken with film sensitive to ultra-violet light, which does not penetrate through the Earth's atmosphere.

Standing Up in Space

About two hours after photographing the eclipse, Aldrin commenced his first EVA, with his head and upper body exposed to space as he stood in the open hatch above his spacecraft seat. During this “stand-up EVA”, which lasted almost two and a half hours, Aldrin took the time to accustom himself to the space environment, which it was thought would better prepare him for his later spacewalk.

One of his first jobs was to install a handrail between his hatch and the docking collar of the Agena that would aid his movements during his day three spacewalk. Aldrin mounted a camera on the side of the spacecraft, with which he took a close-up picture of himself (above), the first shot of its type ever taken! He collected a micrometeorite experiment, and took photographs of the Earth as well as ultra-violet astronomical photography.

Aldrin’s photographic tasks were part of the 14 scientific, medical, and technological experiments planned for Gemini 12. Although five experiments could not be fully completed, those that were included: frog egg growth under zero-g conditions; synoptic terrain and weather photography; airglow horizon photography; and UV astronomy and dim sky photography.

Walking and Working in Space

Gemini 12 flight day three began with some minor fuel cell and manoeuvring thruster issues that would last for the rest of the mission. They did not, however, prevent the highlight of the flight from taking place: a planned two hour tethered spacewalk by Major Aldrin. Until Gemini 12, successfully performing work outside a spacecraft was the one Gemini objective that had eluded NASA, but Aldrin exceeded even the most optimistic hopes for this flight as he performed a record two hours, nine minute and 25 second EVA.

Attached to a 30-foot umbilical cord, Aldrin used the handrail he had installed the day before to assist in attaching a 100-foot long tether between the nose of the Gemini and the Agena. With the handholds, he did not experience the problems Gordon encountered on Gemini 11. Aldrin’s approach to his spacewalk was to go slowly and carefully, resting for two-minute periods between tasks. In fact, about a dozen two-minute rest periods were built into the EVA schedule to prevent Aldrin from becoming exhausted like previous Gemini spacewalkers. 

Moving to the spacecraft’s aft adapter, Aldrin supported himself with overshoe restraints and waist tethers to carry out a number of work tasks. He was able to fasten rings and hooks, connect and disconnect electrical and fluid connections, tighten bolts and cut cables. Aldrin then moved across to the Agena, where he worked at pulling apart electrical connectors and putting them together again. He also tried out a torque wrench designed for the Apollo programme.

At the completion of his spacewalk, Aldrin returned to his Gemini seat with no fatigue and all his tasks accomplished. This demonstrated that the use of neutral buoyancy training, available handholds and foot restraints on the spacecraft, and a slow and measured pace of work while in space, are the ingredients needed for future successful EVAs during the Apollo missions. 

Going for a Spin

The other major task for flight day three was a repeat of the gravity-gradient stabilisation/artificial gravity experiment performed on Gemini 11. Undocking from the Agena, Gemini 12 moved to the end of the tether connecting the two vehicles and then fired its thrusters to slowly rotate the combined spacecraft. Although they had some difficulty keeping the tether taut, the astronauts were able to use centrifugal force to generate a small amount of gravity during the four hour, 20 minute exercise, and achieve gravity-gradient stabilization. After releasing the tether connected to the Agena, Gemini 12 pulled away from the target vehicle and did not re-dock with it again.

One More Time

The last day of Gemini 12’s mission began with an attempt to sight two yellow clouds of sodium particles ejected by a pair of French Centaure rockets launched from the Algerian Sahara. This experiment was designed to measure high altitude winds. Although Lovell and Aldrin could not see the clouds, they did attempt to photograph them using directional instructions from the ground. We’ll have to wait until those films are developed to see if they were successful.

Shortly afterwards, as the spacecraft came over Australia, Gemini 12’s hatch opened for the final time, and Aldrin conducted a second stand-up EVA. Lasting 55 minutes, this brought Aldrin’s total spacewalking time up to a record five hours and 30 minutes! Most of this EVA occurred as Gemini 12 passed over the night side of the Earth, so that Aldrin could aim his camera at “hot young stars”, which have stimulated the curiosity of astronomers all over the world. He also took numerous ultraviolet photographs of stars and constellations.

Mission Accomplished

After a spaceflight lasting 94 hours, 34 minutes and 31 seconds, Geminin 12 made the second computer-controlled re-entry of the programme, splashing down safely in the western Atlantic just three miles from their target, near the recovery aircraft carrier USS Wasp.

Captain Lovell and Major Aldrin have now been recovered and are on their way back to the United States for post-flight debriefing. But we already know that the Gemini 12 mission has been a fitting grand finale to the Gemini project, clearly demonstrating that NASA has achieved all the goals it set for the programme: it has now mastered rendezvous and docking, direct ascent to orbit rendezvous, long-duration spaceflight equivalent to the time of an Apollo lunar mission, and – the trickiest of all, as they discovered – the art of spacewalking.

We should not forget that Gemini has been a team effort, directly involving more than 25,000 people from NASA, the US Department of Defence, other government agencies, universities and research centres, industry and tracking station partners overseas. Everyone involved should feel great pride in the way spaceflight has been advanced in an amazingly short time.

Very soon, the manned Apollo programme will commence, and we can all hope that it will lead to a successful landing on the Moon before the end of this decade. But we should not forget that its success will stand on the shoulders of the Gemini programme.

Postscript

But where are the Russians in the race to the Moon? No Soviet manned flight has been announced since Voskhod 2 in March last year. Has the USSR withdrawn from the race? That seems unlikely, but why do they appear not to have attempted rendezvous and docking missions? Perhaps they have decided to use a different method of reaching the Moon, such as direct ascent, using a massive multi-stage rocket, without the need for orbital rendezvous? After all, as far as we can tell, they still have larger and more powerful rockets than Western nations. Only time will tell, but I think there are still many surprises in store from the USSR before either the East or West wins the Space Race!

(Want more exciting space stories?  Join us for Star Trek tomorrow night at 8:30 PM (Pacific AND Eastern — two showings)!!)

Here's the invitation!



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Science Fiction/Fantasy, TV

[November 14, 1966] Star Trek: "The Corbomite Maneuver"

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A Strange Step Backward


by Gideon Marcus

With the round robin review format we've set up for Star Trek, everyone's obligations are pretty small, with the exception of the person assigned the head: the first, summarizing piece of the article.  I drew the short straw this week, possibly the most challenging week in the history of this new show.

Because a summary's job is to explain what happened.  And in "The Corbomite Maneuver", virtually nothing happened. 

Repeatedly.

The episode boils down to this: The Enterprise travels into an unexplored area of space. An alien ship intercepts the Earth ship, traps it, and threatens to destroy it.  The alien ship takes many guises — first a multicolored cube, then a giant globe of incandescent lights, then a set of glowing soap bubbles (admittedly gorgeous effects), but the scenario is always the same.  The Enterprise tries to break free, dramatic music plays, people fall out of their chairs or bounce around in hallways. The navigator-of-the-week, this time a ‘Lieutenant Bailey’ (anxious, overeager, promoted too early) occasionally has a breakdown. Lieutenant Uhura says "Hailing Frequencies open" a half dozen times, looking rather bored.


"I should have stayed with Ma Bell…"

Eventually, we learn that the whole thing was a test. The alien, Balok of the First Federation (Ron Howard's little brother), never planned to destroy the Enterprise. On the one hand, I appreciate an episode without a villain, one that challenges the hubris that we are the most powerful or the kindest race in the galaxy.

On the other hand, once we know that Kirk and his crew were never in danger, everything becomes a cheat.  The tension, the clever attempts to outmaneuver Balok (with warp engines or poker metaphors), all of it is meaningless.

Add to that a certain unevenness of the episode.  It is pretty clear this episode was filmed before the others we've seen in the series. Spock is yelling again, is wearing his old uniform, and his haircut is more severe.  Shatner has less of a grip on the Kirk character, playing him on a short fuse. As with "Where No Man has Gone Before", everything feels rawer, cheaper, more like an episode of Voyage to the Bottom of the Sea.  Perhaps it was the consciously military mien of the scenario and character interactions.

All this kvetching suggests I didn't like the episode.  That's not quite right. There are some great exchanges, particularly any involving DeForest Kelley (Dr. McCoy). George Takei's Sulu is a delight, with a lot of great subtle expressions. Yeoman Rand got an entire episode free of assault (though Kirk resents her existence as a woman). The special effects are really excellent, and probably the reason the episode got delayed. 


That's a really big Christmas ornament…

But for the most part, I was just kind of bored. That's a new experience for me with Star Trek, which has hitherto been either great or problematic. However, if "Maneuver" really is an early episode, that means we're actually on an upward rather than a downward trend. Plus, next week's episode, which looks like it will incorporate the terrific first pilot, is very promising.

So, three stars, but I won't hold it against the show.

Zero-Sum Game


by Janice L. Newman

As Gideon notes, The Corbomite Maneuver was a, shall we say, uneven episode. The first time the ship was ‘about to be destroyed’ it was exciting. By the third time, it was definitely less impactful. On the other hand, the story had plenty of great moments. The problem was, these ended up undermining each other.

For example, Captain Kirk pulls off a wonderful bluff where he apparently convinces the enemy that destroying their ship will result in the destruction of their own vessel – the bluff being the titular ‘Corbomite Maneuver’. It’s a desperate, brilliant moment that would have made a fantastic climax for the episode. Everything, from Spock saying that it was ‘well-played’, to Bailey returning to the bridge, to Kirk’s sigh of relief when the ship is not destroyed (not to mention McCoy’s overeager offer to teach Spock the game of poker) makes for a great piece of television.


The gambit pays off.

Unfortunately, it’s not the climax of the episode – or rather, it’s the climax, but not the end. And then, when we do reach the end of the story, we learn something which by itself would have made for a clever plot twist. It turns out that the entire set of encounters were orchestrated by a single entity, a powerful being who claims that it was ‘all a test’.

This is something we haven’t seen before. Yes, in Where No Man Has Gone Before and Charlie X we had immensely powerful beings, be they humans or aliens. And in The Cage we did see powerful alien minds manipulating humans to try to get something from them. But we’ve never seen (presumably benevolent) aliens simply ‘testing’ humans to learn their ‘real intentions’. It would have been a great reversal, if only it hadn’t undermined everything which had come before. The clever parts of the story, rather than building on each other, unfortunately canceled each other out.


"Just kidding!"

Lieutenant Bailey's interactions with the captain rang an odd note in the episode. Kirk's "tough love" attitude toward him reminded me strongly of the captain in "The Bedford Incident", and I kept half-expecting Bailey to fire the ship's 'phasers' when he wasn't supposed to (instead he did the opposite, freezing in the moment of crisis).

I do want to make several notes about special effects. First, the lights making up alien ships were extremely effective (and I understand these effects were so involved that they delayed the release of this episode, which was meant to be much earlier in the line up). Second, the figure of Commander Balock that appeared on the Enterprise’s screen was an unconvincing one, yet it was plausible enough for our generation — after all, we were raised on puppet shows and other primitive special effects. The fact that the episode’s writer subverted these expectations and made the figure an actual puppet was absolutely ingenious. And third, the best special effect in the entire show had to be the dubbing of little Clint Howard with an adult’s voice.


"You Have Two Minutes Until Howdy Doody Time!"

3 stars, for the special effects, the cleverness, and the banter.

Off Kilter


by Lorelei Marcus

I enjoyed the overall message of "The Corbomite Maneuver", but I felt the episode had to make some sacrifices to get there.  In particular, the atmosphere of the ship and everyone's characterizations were severely altered from what we've seen thus far.  Captain Kirk seemed forced into the role of the hard-edged, authoritarian Captain.  The women of the crew were more stereotypically portrayed, pushed aside even, so that the men could have their dramatic moments.  Uhura looks bored.  Yeoman Rand exists to make coffee and salad and annoy Captain Kirk by being a woman.  All in all, the Enterprise felt much more current-day Navy in portrayal, and more militaristic in character.


"Did I say 'at ease', mister?"

The special effects were, as has been noted, a cut above.  But I would have liked to have seen this story told with the same Enterprise we're coming to know and love, rather than this odd, warped one, seemingly created to fit the plot's needs. 

With a mid-tier story, great visuals, and inconsistent characterization, I give "Corbomite" three stars.


by Jessica Dickinson Goodman

A Different Kind of Man Behind the Curtain

When I first heard Balok speak in this week’s episode, his voice reminded me of Frank Morgan’s booming performance in The Wizard of Oz (1939). The imagery and tactics reminded me of it as well: flowing curtains of light cascaded over Balok’s alien face, the crew of the Enterprise scrambling to bargain and trick their way out of the crisis as a seemingly all-powerful wizard holding hapless visitors to arbitrary and impossible rules.

When we found that, like The Great and Powerful Oz, Balok was a small man, pulling puppet strings to intimidate and test those around him, the twist felt familiar. But that moment was also where these two fantasies diverged: where the Wizard is venal and greedy, Balok is confident and curious. He is not a huckster, but a representative of a technologically-advanced society, able to control a vast space edifice from his tiny ship, and interested in learning the truth about the crew of the Enterprise.

While Dorothy, the Scarecrow, the Lion, and the Tin Man beg the Wizard to make them whole and take them home, Kirk, McCoy and Bailey don’t need any such boons from Balok. But he offers them anyway, opening up the possibility of cultural exchange between his First Federation and Kirk’s crew. Bailey, who had spent most of the episode as a cowardly lion, gracefully agrees to the exchange as the episode closes.


"We're off to see the Wizard!"

The parallels are not perfect — though if Mr.Spock had filled out the boarding party in the role of the Tin Man seeking a heart he already has, it might have been — but they are productive. Like the friends of Dorothy, Bailey, McCoy, and Spock spend the episode trying to free themselves from traps and get what they think they need. And like the Scarecrow, the Lion, and the Tin Man, in the end, the powers they were seeking to work around were not what they seemed.

I liked that, in this case, the powers were greater. Perhaps, if Balok had been behind the curtain in Oz, Dorothy and company would have gotten more than toys, but the true connection and understanding they needed in their journeys. I hope that future episodes are more even in tone, but also that they continue to expand our views of the universe the way Balok will for Bailey.

Three stars.



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Magazine, Science Fiction/Fantasy, Serial

[November 12, 1966] A Family Tradition (December 1966 Galaxy)

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by Gideon Marcus

Identical cousins

My brother Louis and I diverge quite a lot.  He's an observant Jew, I'm an atheist.  He served in World War 2 (drafted into the Navy), I did not.  He's an affluent pawnbroker.  I'm a writer of questionable success.

But where we differ the most is the subjects of our avocational devotion.  Lou loves opera.  Specifically operas written in 1812 between October and November.  I kid, but his musical tastes are really quite narrow; his radio knob never turns from the FM classical stations.  I am far more catholic in my interests, enjoying everything from classical, to the swing of my teen years, to the brand new sounds.

Also, Lou hates science fiction.

Interestingly, his son David (thus, my nephew), loves SF as much as I do.  Must be this newfangled "generation gap" we're starting to hear about. 

For the last 15 years or so, he and I have swapped recommendations, and he's even lent me some of his magazines.  Our tastes are not identical.  He recently canceled his subscription to The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction, and he is a big fan of Analog.  But we have some strong overlap, particularly where it comes to Galaxy.  In fact, that picture is him in his San Pedro home enjoying this month's issue.

I am thankful that my own daughter, David's first cousin, is also a devoted science fiction fan.  I'd hate to have to throw her out of the house before her eighteenth birthday.

Kidding, again!  I'd surely wait for her to be of age before disowning her.

But, that's not anything we have to worry about, for we are all one big happy family of fen, and we all dug the December 1966 Galaxy — read on and see why!


by Paul E. Wenzel

The issue at hand


by Virgil Finlay

Door to Anywhere, by Poul Anderson

Humanity has developed teleportation technology, and Mars has become a hub for galactic exploration.  But a recent jaunt to the edge of the known universe caused the destruction of several portals and the loss of a senator's brother-in-law.  Now the politician has arrived on the Red Planet to investigate.

When Poul Anderson sets his mind to it, he can write.  Not only is this an effective story, with the mystery disclosed one layer at a time, but it is technically interesting.  It's the first depiction of teleportation I've read that takes relative velocities into consideration.  A trip to a nearby star could require hops to a dozen intermediaries across the galaxy, or multiple galaxies, to ensure the difference in relative momenta is not too great.  I also appreciated the political discussion over the virtues and peril of building a teleporter too close to the Earth.

Where the story falters to some degree is its characterization: Anderson is still in the Kowalski, Yamamoto, Singh habit of defining players by their nationality — and women are strangely absent.  Also, the Hoylean/Hubblean fusion of cosmological theories seems like a lot of gobbledegook.

Nevertheless, it's a riveting read.  Definitely four stars.

Children in Hiding, by John Brunner

I'm told there are two John Brunners.  One is the brilliant Englishman who produced Listen…the Stars! and The Whole Man, both Star-winners and Hugo nominees.  The other is the American who produces schlock.

The latter wrote Children in Hiding.  The premise: the children on a colony world are born healthy but never develop mental capacities beyond that of infants.  A terran troubleshooter is brought in to fix the problem.  He does, but not to the benefit of the colony.

There's a lot of angry dialogue and excessive use of exclamation points, and the end is just stupid.  I'll give the piece two stars because both Brunners write coherently, but all in all, it's a disappointing story.

The Modern Penitentiary, by Hayden Howard


by Jack Gaughan

Ah, and now we have another story of the Esks, a race of Eskimo/alien hybrids that spawn children every month.  Children that mature in five years.  Throughout the series, we've seen the Esks explode in population, exhausting their environment and crowding out the real Eskimos.  In this, they are facilitated by the do-gooder Canadians, who refuse to see the Esks for the meance they are.  Instead, they give the Esks food, relocate them to other areas, etc.

Only one man, Dr. West (who always conjures up the Lovecraft character), knows the truth.  When no one listened to his Cassandra cry, he tried to sterilize them with a disease (last story).  The plan backfired, killing 23 actual Eskimos.  For this, he was imprisoned in the nicest cell ever, complete with a therapeutic nurse-lover.  Modern Penitentiary details West's attempts to escape, as well as his rather difficult-to-read sexual adventures.

These installments stand less and less on their own, and they become more implausible every time.  Thankfully, we've only one left. 

Two stars.

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

I really dug this article, all about whether or not one can hear a meteor.  It was timely, too, as I read it right before our trip out to the desert to stargaze last weekend.

Four stars (and enjoy these pictures of Borrego Springs!)

At the Bottom of a Hole, by Larry Niven


by Hector Castellon

The latest Niven story is another set on Mars, a locale we've visited in Eye of the Octopus and How the Heroes Die.  Hole takes place a good seventy years after the last story.  A smuggler on the run from Belter cops tries to take refuge on Mars at the old base.  He finds the crew long dead, murdered when someone, or several someones, slashed their bubble.  Was it Martians?

The story also features the return of Luke Garner and Lit Schaeffer from World of Ptavvs, tying Mars to that universe.  Along with this month's A Relic of the Empire, which ties Ptavvs in with The Warriors (featuring the Kzinti) and the Beowulf Schaeffer stories set several centuries hence, it appears Niven has knit together six hundred years of future history to play in.  Fun stuff!

Four stars.

Decoy System, by Robin Scott

This is a Mack Reynoldsy thriller featuring an American agent's meeting with his Soviet counterpart.  Some third party has been sabotaging both the US and USSR's early warning systems so that they will indicate massive nuclear strikes.  Aliens are determined to be the culprit.  An era of peace and cooperation ensues.

Of course, it was all a Yankee plot.  I think I'd have liked this story if I hadn't read the premise before (and seen it as recently as The Architects of Fear).  It feels a lot like an Analog story.  Also, it's a lot of buildup for an ending that is obvious early on.

Two stars.

The Palace of Love (Part 2 of 3), by Jack Vance


by Gray Morrow

Last time, if you'll recall, I hadn't been overly enamored with Jack Vance's latest novel, a direct sequel to The Star King.  Kirth Gersen, a rich and supertalented assassin, is on the hunt for Viole Falushe, one of the "Demon Kings" of crime who murdered his parents.  The prior installment took us to Earth, where Gersen, disguised as a reporter (working for a paper he has purchased), investigates Falushe's childhood home.  Back then, he was known as Vogel Filschner.  His best friend and inspiration, before he went into kidnapping and slaving, was the poet, Garnath. 

It is the houseboat-dwelling, nigh-incomprehensible Garnath, who provides Gersen his opportunity to meet and kill Falushe.  Along the way, he becomes increasingly entangled with Garnath's ward, "Zan Zu of Eridu", who is an exact likeness of Falushe's childhood infatuation. 

The first two thirds, in which Gersen plays a cat and mouse game with Falushe, is riveting.  The final section, which sees Falushe invite Gershen to his private sanctum ("The Palace of Love") in the far reaches of space, is heavy on description but light on interest. 

Still, I'd give this section four stars.  It'll be up to the last installment to determine if the whole affair ends up on the three or four star side of the ledger.

Primary Education of the Camiroi, by R. A. Lafferty

Last up, an obtuse piece on the differences in educational policy and success between two planets.  It's supposed to be whimsical (when isn't the word applied to Lafferty?), but it's mostly tired.

Two stars.

Summing up

Finishing up at 3.1 stars, I'd say Fred Pohl has done his job to keep Galaxy on our subscription lists for another year at least.  And I do mean our — you have to count me in, too!

[Speaking of stories you and your family will enjoy, Sirena, the second book in The Kitra Saga, is out!  Fun for adults, young and old.

Buy a copy…you'll be supporting me and getting a great read at the same time!]



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55 years ago: Science Fact and Fiction