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


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!



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

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.





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


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 DieHole 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!]



[November 10, 1966] Star Trek: "Dagger of the Mind"

Poetic Justice


by Robin Rose Graves

Star Trek has often been uninspiring of late — but this episode reminded me why I keep watching week to week.

The opening scene is unassuming. The Enterprise fails to transmit a delivery to the planet Tantalus. Kirk calmly reminds the transporter operator that prison colonies such as Tantalus are equipped with force fields. After receiving the needed permission from the planet, the delivery is allowed to go through, and in return, the Enterprise receives a mysterious box labeled “Do Not Open” (as if viewers don’t already have a good idea of what could possibly be inside).


"Under no circumstances are you to open this, you hear?"

Tantalus informs the Enterprise that a person is missing and could pose a danger to the crew. Unsurprisingly, the box housed the runaway. Now loose on the Enterprise, he becomes aggressive upon being discovered. He asks for asylum on the ship while holding Kirk at gunpoint. Spock subdues the man, and the Enterprise informs Dr. Adams on Tantalus that they found their runaway. Said fugitive identifies himself (with much pain and difficulty) as Dr. Simon van Gelder. A computer check reveals that he is not actually an inmate, but rather Dr. Adams’ assistant. It is at this point my interest was piqued. Why is an assistant being treated like an inmate? What led him to acting like the wild man he is now?

Van Gelder remains on the Enterprise while Kirk beams down along with the Enterprise’s psychiatrist – Dr. Helen Noël – in order to investigate Tantalus. They are immediately met by Dr. Adams and welcomed to the colony. Dr. Adams has gained celebrity for his humane rehabilitation methods on inmates. While on tour, Kirk and Dr. Noël encounter several reformed inmates, now acting as employees. Kirk notes their strange emotionless behavior. Dr. Adams shows off a device called the “neural neutralizer”, which he says he uses to calm agitated inmates. He explains that it is harmless at low increments.

Back on the Enterprise, a frantic van Gelder reveals to Spock and McCoy that it was the use of the neural neutralizer that left him in his current state. As Spock presses him further, van Gelder writhes in pain, struggling to speak (the actor’s performance makes it particularly difficult to watch). Finally, McCoy convinces Spock to use an ancient Vulcan psychic technique in order to calm van Gelder and allow him to speak freely about his experiences back on Tantalus.


The ancient Vulcan technique introduced in this episode.  Remarkable for the intimacy required and the vulnerability displayed.

He explains the true nature of the neural neutralizer: that it empties the mind, leaving those afflicted vulnerable to suggestion, and that Dr. Adams has been using it on inmates and staff to gain control over them. Now understanding the danger Kirk and Dr. Noël are in, the Enterprise attempts to beam down backup, but are unable to because of the colony’s forcefield. They discover all communication with the planet is severed as well.

After voicing his concerns to Dr. Noël, she and Kirk secretly investigate the neural neutralizer. With Dr. Noël at the controls, Kirk volunteers as the test subject. She is able to alter his memory of their first meeting, converting an innocent flirtation into a more serious affair. But while Kirk is under, Dr. Adams takes control of the neutralizer, turning up the intensity. He then forces Kirk to believe he has been in love with Dr. Noël for years and being apart causes him physical pain. He is then released to his quarters along with Dr. Noël, awaiting his next treatment.

Thankfully, as we saw in Naked Time, Kirk's capacity for love is constrained to the Enterprise, and Adams' conditioning fails to take, at least not to a debilitating level. At Kirk’s suggestion, Dr. Noël escapes the room through a duct. Kirk is collected once again for his next treatment, but Dr. Noël is able to sabotage it by shutting off the power. Kirk fights Dr. Adams and leaves him unconscious in the neural neutralizer. Dr. Noël gets her own action scene when she is discovered and single-handedly takes down the guard. (It’s nice to see female characters do more than look pretty and lust after Captain Kirk). With the power now down, Spock is able to beam down to the planet. He resets the power, which activates the neural neutralizer with Dr. Adams still inside. The neutralizer, without anyone to man the device, empties Dr. Adams' mind entirely, killing him with loneliness. Poetic justice for him to be killed by the same device he had tortured countless people with.

The episode ends with Kirk looking morose. McCoy questions how loneliness is able to kill a human being, but Kirk groks, having experienced the effects of the neural neutralizer himself.

"Dagger" features some of the best performances we’ve seen so far (only matched by Leonard Nimoy’s performance in "Naked Time"). Upon meeting the blank workers of Tantalus, I was alarmed by their listless speech and stoney faces. Morgan Woodward (van Gelder) chokes on every word as he struggles to fight his conditioning through physical pain and speaks of the horrors he has been through at Dr. Adams’ hands (I clenched up in sympathy watching these scenes). So much was relayed on performance alone that no fancy looking technology was needed, and while I love a vivid set design, the comparatively plain look of this episode was fitting, allowing the acting to shine without competition.

This episode earns a five star rating from me.


The Mythopoeia of Star Trek


by Jessica Dickinson Goodman

Nine episodes into Star Trek and we’re beginning to see some of the myths that float just under the surface of this world. J.R.R. Tolkien called this kind myth-making “mythopoeia,” though it has existed for as long as storytellers have called upon “rosy-fingered Dawn” or “the evil Jinn.” The Cage had the Talos star group, named presumably for the ancient greek robot who protected Europa in Crete; Charlie X had the cargo vessel Antares, meaning “rival-to-Mars”; Where No Man Has Gone Before, had crewmember Gary Mitchell reciting “The Nightingale Woman,” which he says was “written by Phineas Tarbolde on the Canopius planet back in 1996.” Canopius is probably a mistranscription of the name of the man who steered the ship of King Menelaus of Sparta to Egypt during the Trojan war. More than just referencing the existing Western mythical names of heavenly bodies, Star Trek layers those stories onto future histories, adding meaning and depth.

When I first heard the name of the penal colony in this week’s episode, I remembered that in Greek mythology, Tantalus is the founder of the House of Atreus, and his story is one of the more gruesome in a genre often marked by gore. Tantalus wanted to test the gods’ omniscience, and so when he was a guest on Mount Olympus he killed his son and served him to the gods as a feast. For killing his child and challenging the gods, Tantalus was sentenced to starve forever in a pool of water with ripe fruit hanging above his head, the water always receding when he bent to drink, and the fruit always raising itself just out of his reach.


Tantalus, by Gioacchino Assereto (1600–1649)

These themes of taboo, hunger, challenging powerful people, consent, hubris, punishment, and abuse of power move throughout Dagger of the Mind. When I saw Captain Kirk writhing in a pool of blue light as he tried to escape torment and artificially implanted lust, it reminded me of that final image of Tantalus in his pool, trapped by forced hunger and cruel punishment.

The parallels are not perfect — Captain Kirk is a victim of Doctors Adams and Noël, not a child-killing cannibal — but mythical references don’t have to be perfectly in-tune to be resonant. They just have to tantalize us into thinking and feeling more deeply about these characters.

Four stars.


Holding out Hope


by Janice L. Newman

This episode was deeply disturbing in many ways. The idea of the erasure of memories, of self, is creepy at best and horrific at worst. It is a kind of death, for who are we without our memories?

Nonetheless, beneath the horror I found a hopeful note. McCoy, when asked if he's visited a penal colony since the Federation began following Dr. Adams' theories, says simply, "A cage is a cage, Jim." Captain Kirk immediately contradicts him, saying that McCoy is behind the times, and that penal colonies are more like "resort colonies" now. Throughout the episode, despite the horror, runs a theme that prisoners should be treated with humanity, and that the purpose of such places is not to punish, but to help.

Furthermore, the prisoners themselves are never portrayed as 'deserving' the torture and the erasure of their minds. No matter what they've done in the past, they are shown as victims of Dr. Adams' machinations. Once it is understood what Dr. Adams is doing, no one other than Adams himself suggests that the prisoners are 'better off' for having part of their mind cut away. Compare this to the practice of lobotomizing people, either 'for their own good' or for 'the good of society'. Performing a lobotomy was outlawed in the Soviet Union in 1950 on the grounds that it is "contrary to the principles of humanity", yet it is still legal in the United States. It seems to me that "Dagger" is an indirect attack on this barbaric, inhumane practice.


Dr. Adams, a latter-day Dr. Moniz.

These twin themes: that of a drive to help disturbed minds, while at the same time retaining an awareness of and belief in a criminal's basic personhood and right to dignity and self, paint a picture of a more humane, thoughtful world.  Imperfect, yes, but with a determination to improve despite individual setbacks. As with "Miri", I find myself heartened by a vision of the future where punishment is no longer considered the first and best option for dealing with misbehaving people of any age.

Four stars.


Chemicals, by any other name


by Gideon Marcus

I don't know if this is a phenomenon unique to Star Trek, but I often find myself noting similarities between a given episode and previous ones, and to other stories in general.  Lorelei pointed out that, once again, we have Kirk exploring an underground complex.  Once again, the captain must treat with a megalomaniac scientist and his powerful device (q.v. "What are Little Girls Made of?").

But the biggest comparison I draw is to Norman Spinrad's recent story, Your name shall be…Darkness.  In Spinrad's tale, an American officer is captured in Korea and subjected to a novel application of electroshock therapy.  Bit by bit, his captor strips away all of his memories until all that is left is raw ego.  Then his identity is restored, presumably with additional programming.  We saw something like this in The Manchurian Candidate, too, as well as The Mind Benders, but Darkness feels like the closest fit.  In Darkness, after his ordeal, the officer is compelled (perhaps by programming) to use the brainwashing technique to cure the mentally disturbed.  He becomes a psychiatrist, one of the most prominent in his field.  Essentially, he is Dr. Adams with his machine — but whether this is ultimately a good or a bad thing is left open.  After all, we don't know what the officer's real mission is, or what he might be implanting in his patients.


The brainwasher from "Darkness".

Dr. Noël posits that the Neural Neutralizer is a better, more permanent solution to insanity than constant injection of tranquilizers (which is the way Dr. Van Gelder is treated by McCoy).  In the end, Trek teaches us that brainwashing is not the answer either. 

The episode does suggest that there is an answer, however: when Spock establishes the ultimate empathy with Van Gelder, using an "ancient Vulcan technique", only then is he able to soothe the tortured mind of the doctor.  We may not have Spock's psychic powers, but perhaps we can discover a similarly effective psychotherapeutic treatment for the heretofore incurably disturbed. 

Who says science fiction can't be aspirational as well as cautionary?

Four stars.


Paved with Good Intentions


by Tam Phan (Secret Asian Man)

I don't know how much more I can take from the security team. Fortunately, the predictable ineptitude of the security force on the Enterprise wasn't the cause of events spiraling out of control. I'll give it a pass this time because "Dagger of the Mind" is a bit of a return to form. I've been unimpressed by the recent episodes, but I love a good moral dilemma.


Another Tuesday aboard the Enterprise

The contrast between the affable, accommodating attitude Dr. Adams displayed, and that of his work, was eerie from the audience's perspective. We only know there's something wrong because this wouldn't be a very entertaining show if there wasn't, but Kirk's trust of Adams was only natural considering how renowned his work is. Even Dr. Noël's admiration was to be expected, and it was only McCoy's insistence of a thorough report that raised any suspicions. I wouldn't have been surprised if this operation had continued to go unnoticed indefinitely.

I hope to get more episodes like this where we are faced with the ethics of the implementation of technology in the future. How far would we have allowed Adams to turn that dial before stopping to consider how wrong it is? How far would we turn that dial if we thought we were making a positive impact? Going where no man has gone before isn't necessarily always to a physical place.

Five stars



(You don't have to wait long to see the next episode of Star Trek — join us tonight at 8:30 PM (Pacific AND Eastern — two showings)!!)

Here's the invitation!



[November 8, 1966] Paranoia and High Treason: Space Patrol Orion, Episode 4: "Deserters"


by Cora Buhlert

In Unquiet Times

Here in West Germany, October was a month of protests, some of which sadly ended in violence.

In Frankfurt on Main, more than twenty thousand people protested against the proposed emergency powers law, which would allow the West German government to suspend the constitution in case of wars or disasters. Since the emergency powers laws of the Weimar Republic are considered to have paved the way for Hitler, this is not a popular proposition, and indeed no one seems to want or need these laws except for the government.

1966 emergengy powers law protest
This protest in Frankfurt/Main against the proposed emergency powers laws drew a crowd.

Meanwhile in Cologne, the public transport authority plans a significant increase of tram and bus fares, particular for student tickets. As a result, more than eight thousand high school and university students blockaded the tram tracks on the Neumarkt in Cologne. These so-called "umbrella protests" (it was raining, so many protesters carried umbrellas) lasted for four days until they were violently broken up by the police.

Cologne umbrella protests 1966
Students block tram tracks on the Neumarkt in Cologne to protest a fare increase.
Umbrella protests Cologne
This aerial photograph shows why the Cologne fare increase protests have been nicknamed "umbrella protests".
Umbrella protests
The police holds back student protesters in Cologne.

West Germany is not officially involved in the Vietnam war, but anti-war protests nonetheless happen a lot. In Munich, several people were arrested during an unauthorised protest against a visit by US ambassador George McGhee. And in the West German capital of Bonn, two hundred fifty Lutheran priests protested against the war in Vietnam, proclaiming that supporting the war means betraying the Christian faith.

Priests protests Vietnam war
In Bonn, 250 Lutheran priests protest against the Vietnam war.

War in Space

While the streets of West Germany were shaken by anti-war protests, "Deserters", the latest episode of Raumpatrouille: Die phantastischen Abenteuer des Raumschiffs Orion (Space Patrol: The Fantastic Adventures of the Spaceship Orion) showed us what warfare might look like in space. Because humanity is fighting the mysterious aliens known only as the Frogs, and that war is not going well: the Frogs have developed a shield that repels energy weapons, rendering them useless.

In response, Commander Cliff Allister McLane (Dietmar Schönherr) and the crew of the Orion 8 conduct a test of the Overkill device, a weapon as impressive as its name that can blow up entire planetoids. The striking effect was created by filling a plaster sphere with pantry staples like rice, raisins, ground coffee and flour and then blowing everything out of a small hole via pressurised air. Anybody who is familiar with the writing advice of Russian playwright Anton Chekhov will know that we can expect to see the Overkill weapon in action again before the episode is over.

Orion episode 4
Commander McLane (Dietmar Schönherr) confronts weapons scientist Rott (Alfons Höckmann).
Orion Overkill
The Overkill device in action.

Meanwhile back on Earth, the general staff is conferring, including familiar faces like Colonel Villa of the Galactic Security Service (Friedrich Joloff), General Wamsler of the Space Patrol (Benno Sterzenbach) and General Lydia Van Dyke of the Fast Space Fleet Command (Charlotte Kerr). I like that Orion makes the various generals recurring characters rather than having interchangeable uniforms issuing commands.

Orion Generals
Grimly glare the generals: General Wamsler (Benno Sterzenbach), Marshal Kublai-Krim (Hans Cossy) and Sir Arthur (Franz Scharfheitlin)
Colonel Villa and aide
More grim generals: Colonel Villa (Friedrich Joloff) and aide (Nino Korda)

The reason for the conference is that Alonzo Pietro, commander of the spaceship Xerxes, attempted to defect to the Frogs and was only stopped at the very last instant. Pietro is fully sane, though he claims not to remember why he tried to defect. However, shortly before Pietro's defection attempt, the Xerxes landed on the space station M8/8-12, a station whose human crew experienced a breakdown, went mad and were replaced by robots.

Orion Alonzo Pietro
Commander Alonzo Pietro (Wolf Petersen) under suspicion of treason.

Sparks fly in the Starlight Casino

Meanwhile, Orion security officer Tamara Jagellovsk (Eva Pflug) is relaxing in the Starlight Casino with an unnamed officer. It's nice to see the normally so uptight Tamara on a date and enjoying a life outside work. Though this will not last, for Tamara spots McLane and Lydia Van Dyke having a drink at the bar, which causes her to promptly forget all about her date and instead scrutinise what McLane and Van Dyke are doing.

Orion Tamara
Tamara Jagellovsk (Eva Pflug) neglects her date to spy on McLane.

What they are doing is discussing the attempted defection of Alonzo Pietro. McLane is friends with Pietro (is there anybody in the fleet McLane is not friends with?) and cannot believe Pietro would turn traitor. However, McLane is quickly distracted, when he spots Tamara… with a man. So McLane and Tamara spend the rest of the evening glaring at each other across the dance floor, to the amusement of General Van Dyke and the dismay of Tamara's companion. Finally, McLane disrupts Tamara's date for good by sitting down uninvited at her table and sending her would-be suitor away on a false errand.

Sparks are flying between Tamara and McLane, and I wouldn't be surprised if half the fleet was taking bets on when those two will get together.

A Routine Mission

After this interlude, the crew of the Orion 8 head for space station M8/8-12 to install the Overkill device as a first line of defence against a potential Frog attack. It's a routine mission, but we know how well those tend to go for the Orion 8 and her crew. Especially since M8/8-12 is the very space station whose crew went mad and which Alonzo Pietro visited before attempting to defect to the Frogs. Uh-oh.

Luckily, Space Fleet Command is aware of the problems on M8/8-12 and sends along a psychiatrist named Professor Sherkoff (Erwin Linder) to observe the Orion crew. McLane takes this about as well as you can imagine.

Trouble finds the Orion crew as soon as they reach M8/8-12. The robots manning the space station do not respond to hails and neither does any other space station in the area. When the Orion finally lands, one of the robots attacks McLane, even though this contradicts the First Law of Robotics (invoked for the second time in the series after episode 3). Worse, the robots were specifically deployed to man the station because they were deemed more reliable than humans. Once again, the biggest proponent of replacing humans with robots is Colonel Villa, who also happens to be Tamara's direct superior, which supports the theory that Tamara is a highly advanced android herself.

Orion robots
The Orion crew warily observe the malfunctioning robots.

Both McLane and Professor Sherkoff suspect that something is  wrong on M8/8-12 . However, the Orion crew still has a job to do and  proceed to install the Overkill device. Tamara was left behind aboard the Orion to watch the ship, but since she is the crewmember with the most robotics experience (maybe because she is one herself), McLane calls her in to examine the malfunctioning robots and sends Hasso Sigbjörnson (Claus Holm) back instead.

Orion McLane
McLane calls Tamara via his handy wrist communicator
Tamara Oion
Tamara conducts some tests.

A Traitor On Board

While the Orion crew installs the Overkill device, which involves a lot of silver and translucent glass baubles that look like Christmas tree ornaments, Hasso falls asleep in the command chair and is only roused when McLane calls and tells him to program the coordinates for their next destination.

Orion Maria and Helga
Mario de Monti (Wolfgang Völz and Helga Legrelle (Ursula Lillig) install the Overkill device.
Orion: McLane and Atan
McLane and Atan Shubashi (F.G. Beckhaus) install the Overkill device.
Orion Atan
Atan tests the Overkill device. For reasons unknown, this requires a clothing iron.

So Hasso approaches the  computer – a plain egg-shaped device with one big light rather than the light-studded computer of the destroyed Orion 7. This sole light begins to pulse like a malevolent evil eye, and Hasso gets a thousand-yard stare, as he punches the coordinates into the computer.

Orion Hasso
Hasso Sigbjörnson (Claus Holm), asleep on the job
Orion Hasso
Hasso programs the computer. Note the glowing light.

Before taking off, McLane checks the course again and realises to his horror that the course entered into the computer would take the Orion into space sector AC 1000, a sector held by the Frogs.

There's a traitor aboard the Orion, so as security officer, Tamara takes command to conduct the investigation. "This will not take long," she tells McLane, because there is only one likely suspect: Hasso Sigbjörnson.

Orion Hasso
Is this man a traitor?

McLane doesn't believe that Hasso is a traitor – after all, they've known each other for ten years. However, McLane isn't in charge, Tamara is. And so she proceeds to interrogate Hasso, who claims not to remember anything. Hasso Sigbjörnson truly must be the unluckiest man in the fleet, because in four episodes so far he nearly got killed twice and was accused of treason once.

Space Patrol Orion has excellent actors, and their skills are on display in this scene. Particularly, Claus Holm shines as the bewildered and increasingly defensive Hasso, who's even sweating visibly. Meanwhile, Professor Sherkoff is watching with an ever so slightly sinister smirk on his face.

Tamara proceeds to arrest Hasso and calmly informs him that regulations require that she stuns him. Interestingly enough, McLane does not try to stop Tamara. However, another member of the Orion crew intervenes on behalf of Hasso, namely Helga Legrelle (Ursula Lillig).

Orion Helga and Tamara
Helga Legrelle confronts Tamara Jagellovsk.

So far, the scripts haven't given Helga much to do except utter the occasional line of gizmo speak, but she finally gets to shine when she takes on Tamara. It's obvious that Helga doesn't like Tamara because of McLane's interest in her. However, Helga also points out one important fact: Hasso was not the only crewmember who was alone aboard the Orion and could have reprogrammed the course. Tamara was also alone on board and could have done it.

Helga Legrelle
Helga points out another suspect.

While Helga and Tamara fight it out, Mario de Monti (Wolfgang Völz) is watching from the sidelines, when he suddenly gets that thousand-yard stare as well. Like a sleepwalker, he begins to punch coordinates into the Orion's computer. Coordinates, which will take the Orion deep into Frog territory. When confronted with what he has just done, Mario also claims not to remember anything.

The Manchurian Mule

Before Tamara can arrest even more people, Professor Sherkoff intervenes and points out that both Hasso and Mario were standing directly in front of the computer when they suddenly felt compelled to enter the coordinates for the Frog base. The Professor then proposes an experiment and tells Tamara to stand in front of the computer. And indeed, the malevolent light starts to pulse again, Tamara goes blank and begins to punch the coordinates for the Frog base into the computer.

Orion
Tamara programs the computer, watched by Professor Sherkoff (Erwin Linden), Atan and Helga.

Since Tamara most definitely is not a traitor and neither are Hasso and Mario, the Professor explains that the Frogs are using telenosis (a portmanteau of "telepathy" and "hypnosis") rays emitted via the Orion's computer to manipulate the crew. The same thing happened to Alonzo Pietro and the M8/8-12 crew.

Orion Tamara
Tamara is horrified by what she has done, while Professor Sherkoff explains what just happened.

A note of context: The Cold War is a game of spies, some of whom occasionally change sides and defect. And indeed, there have been several high profile defections in recent years, including British double agent Kim Philby who defected to the Soviet Union in 1963.

The Cold War also breeds paranoia, including fear of perfectly loyal men and women brainwashed into unwittingly aiding the enemy. There has never been a documented case of a brainwashed agent in the real world, but they abound in fiction whether it is in spy thrillers like Richard Condon's The Manchurian Candidate or science fiction novels like Samuel R. Delany's Babel-17.

"Deserters" cannot be influenced by Babel-17, because the show was already in production when the novel came out. The Manchurian Candidate is a possible influence. However, I suspect that the inspiration for the Frogs and their telenosis ray is "The Mule", a malevolent mutant who uses his telepathic powers to bring the  Foundation to its knees in Isaac Asimov's Foundation and Empire. After all, the repeated references to the Three Laws of Robotics prove that the writers have read Asimov. And indeed, the talky boardroom scenes featuring the various generals are reminiscent of the equally talky early Foundation stories.

Hunt the Orion

However, the Mule never had to deal with the Orion crew. And so McLane devises an ingenious plan. Since the Frogs clearly want the Orion to head to sector AC-1000, the Orion will go there, letting the Frogs believe that their attempts the hypnotise the Orion crew into defecting were successful. Once the Orion crew is in range of the Frogs' base, they will use the Overkill device to blow it up.

Orion episode 4
Tamara watches the Frog fleet on a screen, while McLane and Sherkoff look on.

There is only one hitch. The Orion can't inform Space Fleet Command of their plan, because the Frogs might be listening. Therefore, once the Orion's unauthorised course is detected, the general staff assumes that the crew are planning to defect. General Wamsler points out that he really cannot imagine McLane of all people turning traitor, while his aide Lieutenant Spring-Brauner (Thomas Reiner) gleefully sends the entire fleet after McLane to shoot down the Orion.

The ship closest to the Orion is none other than the Hydra under the command of Lydia Van Dyke, who no more believes that McLane would turn traitor than Wamsler does. Therefore, she delays the chase, until a swarm of Frog ships forces her to return to Earth. McLane, meanwhile, manages to destroy the Frog base as well as a squadron of Frog ships with the Overkill device.

Back on Earth, the Orion crew and Alonzo Pietro, who is no longer under arrest for treason, celebrate. Tamara dances with Professor Sherkoff much to McLane's dismay.

Orion Starlight Casino
Dances in the future still look exceedingly strange.
Orion Tamara and Sherkoff
Tamara dances with Professor Sherkoff. McLane is not pleased.

Paranoia in Space

"Deserters" is a low-key episode of Space Patrol Orion, but nonetheless an effective story, which succeeds in generating a paranoid atmosphere throughout.

I have to admit that I suspected Professor Sherkoff of being the traitor from the moment he first stepped aboard the Orion. For it was obvious that no member of the Orion crew would turn out to be the traitor and Sherkoff was the only one who didn't belong. Besides, Erwin Linder's ever so slightly sinister smirk just makes him look suspicious.

This was a nice bit of misdirection, because in the end Sherkoff turned out to be exactly what he was introduced as, namely a psychiatrist supposed to examine the Orion crew, whereas the true villain was a computer with a malevolently pulsing light.

The Frogs have been hovering in the background of every single episode so far, though we have only briefly seen them twice. Personally, I like keeping the main antagonists off stage, because the unseen menace is so much more terrifying than a goofy rubber monster.

A taunt science thriller pregnant with paranoia.

Four and a half stars.

Oktoberfest 1966
The 1966 Oktoberfest in Munich may be over, but the poster is still striking.




[November 6, 1966] Starting Over (December 1966 IF)


by David Levinson

Autumn is a strange time for new beginnings, but that seems to be something of a theme, both in life and in the latest edition of IF.

Carnival atmospheres

On October 5th, the highest appeals court in Texas ruled that Jack Ruby, the man who shot the man who shot President Kennedy, should be granted a new trial. The court said that, given the tremendous amount of publicity in Dallas about the shooting, the judge should have granted the request for a change of venue made by Ruby’s lawyer, Melvin Belli. The court also ruled that some statements made by Ruby to the police should have been excluded. Oddly, the court didn’t have a problem with people who watched the shooting on television being on the jury. The new trial will probably be the big news story early next year.


Jack Ruby shortly after his arrest.

The Texas court may have followed the Supreme Court ruling in Sheppard v. Maxwell back in June. In 1954, Dr. Sam Sheppard was convicted of the brutal murder of his wife Marilyn. He maintained that she was killed by a “bushy-haired” man, but he was tried and convicted in the press before he was even arrested. The story became a national sensation, and the jury was exposed to further declarations of Sheppard’s guilt in the press throughout the trial. Before the trial began, the judge even told Dorothy Kilgallen that Sheppard was obviously “guilty as hell.” Jury selection for a new trial began on October 24th, and the prosecution should have begun to present their case by the time you read this.


Sam Sheppard’s mug shot from 1954.

Rising from the ashes

In this month’s IF, it seems like almost everybody is starting over. Whether it’s their personal lives, civilization or the human race, they’re all trying to put things back together.


This doesn’t look like it has anything to do with the Niven story. And they got the title wrong. Art by Gaughan

Be Merry, by Algis Budrys

Several years ago, a Klarri interstellar liner suffered an accident. The people aboard piled into lifeboats and made a crash landing on Earth. Unfortunately, they were unable to take any precautions and Klarri diseases swept through the human population, while human diseases did the same to the Klarri. Both populations were cut in half, and human civilization collapsed. The survivors have pulled together, human and Klarri alike, in small communities outside of the big cities. Rations are short and no one is really healthy, but the communities support each other as best they can.

Ed Dorsey and his Klarr partner Artel are investigators in the Western District of Greater New York. Their boss sends them to check out Ocean Heights, New Jersey. Unlike other places, the people there take whatever they’re sent without complaint, not even begging for more medical supplies. Entering the town late at night, they find signs of a pre-pandemic lifestyle, as well as a crashed lifeboat and a building that seems to be holding a number of Klarri prisoner. Returning in daylight, they find people in robust health who are very cagey about conditions in the town.


Ed and Artel make a discovery. Art by Gray Morrow

Historically, I’ve not been a big fan of Algis Budrys’s work. I can see the skill in his writing, but never really connect with it. This story is another matter entirely. I found myself fully invested and eager to solve the mystery of Ocean Heights. I also liked that, unlike in many stories, survivors were pulling together instead of being at odds, even recognizing that the Klarri are also victims and integrating them into their communities.

Four stars.

The Thousandth Birthday Party, by Durant Imboden

It’s Ogilvy Carr’s one-thousandth birthday. Since medical science can keep almost everyone alive indefinitely and birth control, and interplanetary colonies aren’t enough to reduce population pressure, a solution had to be found. Anyone who reaches the age of 1,000 has to draw a ping pong ball from a bin. A lucky few are named Immortals; the rest are shot in the head by a sniper before they know they’ve lost. It’s no wonder Ogilvy is nervous.

Imboden is this month’s first time author. A more seasoned writer could have found a way to explain the significance of the birthday without two full pages of flat exposition interrupting the flow of the narrative, but this isn’t a terrible first outing.

Three stars.

Starpath, by Neal Barrett, Jr.

The Starpath is an energy-intensive method of instantaneous travel between planets that few men are capable of using. Major Keith Waldermann is taking Cadet Matt DeLuso on his first tour. After five quick jumps, they get some unexpected R&R on the planet Primera. But while there, a Priority Red is announced. Hostile aliens have been encountered, and the entire power output of dozens of planets will be consumed to get men and materiel to the point of contact as quickly as possible.


Priority Red means all hands on deck. Art by Adkins

This story starts out as an Arthur C. Clarke travelogue as written by Robert Heinlein, before shifting gears to a war story at the halfway mark. If you’ve seen a war movie made in the last 20 years, you know how it’s going to turn out. Still, it’s an engaging tale and worth the read.

Three stars.

A Relic of the Empire, by Larry Niven

Dr. Richard Schultz-Mann is on a planet orbiting the double star Mira. He’s studying the stage trees left over from the ancient Slaver empire in the hopes writing a book that will sell well enough to restore his lost fortune. (With a trillion potential readers, getting just one percent to buy your book means a lot of money.) His investigations are interrupted by the arrival of a ship under the command of a man calling himself Captain Kidd. The captain and crew have done the impossible and made money at space piracy, because they managed to stumble across the puppeteer home world. Now they’re on the run from the police. Mann’s only hope is his knowledge of the local flora. Maybe he can find another way to get rich.


Richard Mann makes his escape. Art by Burns

Niven appears to be pulling his stories together into a future history. Mentions of puppeteers and Slavers connect the Beowulf Schaeffer stories and World of Ptavvs. As for the story itself, pretty good. Not as good as the two about Beowulf Schaeffer, much better than some of Niven’s other recent work.

A solid, maybe a high, three stars.

The “Other” Fandoms, by Lin Carter

This time out, Our Man in Fandom takes a look at fan groups outside of, but somewhat adjacent, to science fiction fans. Some of them even hold their annual meetings at the World Science Fiction Convention. Carter takes us on a whirlwind tour of groups dedicated to Edgar Rice Burroughs, Conan, Tolkien, horror and movie monsters. Better, he provides contact information for most of them. If none of these catch your interest, there are more to come next month.

Three stars.

Call Me Dumbo, by Bob Shaw

Dumbo lives in a pretty little cottage far outside the village with her husband Carl and their three sons. She has begun to have disturbing thoughts about things other than hoping for a daughter; things like her name. Following Carl to the village in secret, Dumbo discovers that there is no village, just a cylinder of black metal, lying on its side. She also spies Carl throwing away a glass box that turns out to contain an eyeball. As her world spins ever further out of control, Dumbo makes a number of alarming discoveries.


Dumbo makes a discovery. Art by Virgil Finlay

This dark and disturbing story deals with a theme we’ve seen before. It can be seen as the unpleasant flip-side of “Another Rib” by John J. Wells and Marion Zimmer Bradley, as well as more directly (though less poetically) dealing with a theme in Cordwainer Smith’s “The Crime and the Glory of Commander Suzdal”. I honestly don’t know what to do with this one. It might well be a four-star story, but the ugliness at the core of it makes me want to go take a shower.

I just can’t give this more than three stars.

The Forgotten Gods of Earth, by Andrew J. Offutt

The barbarian Kymon of Kir has come to the ancient world of Earth in search of a treasure worth an emperor’s ransom and a captive princess. Armed with powerful magics and his mighty blade Goreater, he overcomes the guardian monsters and penetrates deep into the Black Castle of Atramentos, home of the sorceror Gundrun.

This cross between Conan and Clark Ashton Smith’s Dying Earth straddles the line between parody and pastiche, though more firmly on the side of the latter. An entertaining, though occasionally turgid read, it would have fit perfectly in the pages of Weird Tales 30 years ago. As with the tales of Brak, I find myself asking if we really need this sort of old-fashioned guff. Fritz Leiber has shown that it’s possible to keep the tone and still write a modern story.

Three stars.

Snow White and the Giants (Part 3 of 4), by J. T. McIntosh

Shuteley, England has been visited by a strange group of young people whom Val Mathers and his old friend Jota have figured out are from the future. Leaving Jota with the giants, Val has begun to repair his marriage, but as he and his wife return they find the whole town on fire. After helping organize the fire brigade, Val heads upriver to investigate the giants. He sees them guiding many of the people of the town out of danger and apparently sending them to the future.

After witnessing a fight between Greg, the giants’ apparent leader, and Miranda, the Snow White of the title, and losing his own fight with Greg, Val regains consciousness in a protective dome in the heart of the firestorm consuming the city. He discovers Jota apparently about to rape Val’s mentally handicapped sister, and the two fight. Jota is pushed out of the dome and is instantly killed by the intense heat. Soon after Miranda shows up and begins to explain things. Val will be considered the villain of the fire, because he failed to enforce modern standards of fire prevention. But the point of the expedition was to save Jota’s life, because he possesses “the Gift”. As the story ends, Miranda guides Val through his life to understand what that means. To be concluded.


As Shuteley burns, only the protective gear of the giants can withstand the firestorm. Art by Gaughan

Lots of action this time. McIntosh spends a little too much time describing the course of the fire, perhaps because the extreme destruction it causes seems rather improbable. We’re teased with learning the purpose of the visitors from the future, but we still don’t know what the deal is with Jota or why most of the supposed victims of the fire are being rescued. Hopefully, all will be made clear in the finale.

Three stars.

Summing up

Just looking at the ratings, this is a pretty good issue. Unfortunately, the darkness of “Call Me Dumbo” sits atop it all. It’s counterbalanced to some extent by the hopefulness of “Be Merry”, but I don’t know that it’s enough. I suspect most of the discussion will be about the Shaw piece.


After his story in this issue, I’m more interested in a new Budrys novel.






[November 4, 1966] Star Trek: "Miri"


by Gideon Marcus

Growing pains

On the trail of an old-style distress call, the Enterprise crew makes an astonishing discovery — a (cloudless) planet that looks exactly like the Earth!  Moreover, upon beaming down to the planet, Captain Kirk, Mr. Spock, Dr. McCoy, Yeoman Rand, and two security guards find the replication goes down to the culture, language, and architecture.  Indeed, where they land is indistinguishable from a town in the 1960s.  Mayberry, perhaps.

But one thing is missing: people.  The planet has been abandoned for three hundred years.  Well, not quite abandoned.  Skulking amongst the buildings are prepubescent children, dirty, careless, parentless.  And there are…things.  Distorted, mindless creatures that attack on sight.  But Kirk and co. find a liaison of sorts, a young teenager named Miri.  She is terrified of the adults ("grups") at first, recalling scenes of violence and arson, but Kirk wins her over with a tender manner and a dazzling smile.

The Enterprise crew quickly discovers that all of the adults were wiped out by an artificial virus (ironically created to extend life).  It has prolonged the life of the children incredibly, but any human who has reached, or is reaching, puberty, becomes one of the monsters and dies.  And all of the crew who beamed down are now infected.  It becomes a race against time — Kirk vs. the disease, and the hostile youth population.

This episode is something of a head-scratcher.  We have the revelatory opening, which ultimately serves just as an excuse to reuse the Desilu backlot. 

The setup does not work with a three hundred year timeline.  The children would be virtually unrecognizable, culturally, if they were still alive.  Surely, they would not remember adults, who would only occupy, at most, a 30th of their lifespan's memories.  Their food would not have lasted this long, either.

Yeoman Rand was along for this mission, but she didn't get to do much but repeat other people's lines and confess her attraction for Captain Kirk.  I'm not sure I like where they're going with their relationship.

And then there's the dramatic scene, where McCoy injects himself with an untested vaccine.  As it turns out Kirk convinces the children, who had stolen their communicators at a critical juncture, to give them back their talking boxes so that they can confirm the dosage and efficacy of the serum with Enterprise computers.  So while the moment is interesting in terms of character it's ultimately pointless.


A pointless act, but Kelley really sells it, I have to say.

On the other hand…

I found that the episode hangs together much better if one disregards the three hundred year timeline.  And indeed, Spock could be mistaken on that point.  Sure, they've beamed down to a place that looks like 1960, a year three centuries in the Enterprise's past, but who's to say that the two Earths followed the exact same chronology, or started at the same point.  If the children have been on their own for just, say, three years, the episode makes a lot of sense.  Then, the global descent into madness is recent enough to explain Miri's visceral fear of adults.  It explains why the kids still retain memory of their life as civilized children (and, indeed, why they ultimately decide to work with the adults). 

And it makes the behavior of the kids, which is admittedly rather annoying, much more acceptable.  These are children who watched their world end, saw their own parents try to kill them.  Leaders like Jahn helped keep them alive in that dangerous transition.  They may seem like they are enjoying a Neverland existence, free from responsibilities, but they are still children, and they miss their parents.

The original premise, that three hundred years had passed, could have been interesting, too, with the Enterprise making contact with a population of aliens in the form of children.  But that's not what writer Adrian Spies gave us.  Instead, we got an episode that fits a three-year timeline, and with that accepted, it's actually a compelling story.

Plus, we have on-location filming for the first time, and it is quite lovely.  Credit goes to Vincent McEveety for some excellent direction, too.  Musical cues seem to be a mix of cribbed and original scoring.  It's an effective soundscape.  I feel Nimoy has finally settled into the role of Spock.  The exchange with Kirk when he indicates that he "does want to go back to the ship" was compelling.

So, I think "Miri" merits three and a half stars.  It's better than "Charlie X" but worse than the three really good episodes aired thus far.


Child labor


by Tam Phan (Secret Asian Man)

I never seem to find child actors very convincing. Miri and Jahn were no exception, failing even to pass for teenagers, let alone children that hadn't gone through puberty yet. Beyond that, it's hard to believe that 300 year olds, even in children's bodies, would continue to act like juveniles.


13 years old?!

Despite that, the music and pacing really saved this episode. The music brought complexity to each moment, and thanks to excellent direction, even though the far too Earth-like planet made for an odd setting, each scene moved the story along convincingly. There was enough suspense that the situation felt more dire and desperate as the disease progressed. We all knew what the Doctor was going to do as soon as Spock left the room, but the music made the decision come to life.

I’m really looking forward to the episode where they get it all right because music and pacing don’t make a show. Star Trek has so much potential, but this episode falls well short of that.

3 Stars


Bang! Zoom! Right in the kisser!


by Janice L. Newman

“Miri” was a lackluster episode in many ways. But one thing did stand out to me, especially as I thought about it afterward: Kirk never punishes the children.

Twice he is attacked by the children, and we do see him twice throw one child off his perch on a desk and to the ground. But other than that, we do not see Kirk raise a hand against his juvenile attackers. He never uses violence to establish dominance over them or force them to do what he wants. Instead, he explains the situation to them, pleads with them – and shows them the same respect he would adults. He treats them as though they are capable of reason and empathy. And in the end, they are.

I usually catch the last few minutes of the cartoon version of The Lone Ranger when I tune in to Mission Impossible. The end of last week’s Lone Ranger episode had him capturing the villain, who I think was meant to be some sort of boy who never grew up, and giving him a spanking before sending him to jail. It’s clearly supposed to be a ‘funny’ moment.

In “Miri”, whether one accepts the episode’s timeline of 300 years or the Traveler’s more plausible three, the child characters are obviously meant to have the minds of children. They behave ‘badly’, mocking the Enterprise crew, stealing their communicators, kidnapping Yeoman Rand, and even attacking the captain.

It wouldn’t have surprised me if Star Trek followed a similar path to The Lone Ranger, showing the children getting punished, perhaps even spanked. The fact that the show did not take this easy way out, the fact that the futuristic society it portrays values diplomacy and reason over coercion and punishment, is something that I find tremendously heartening. I can only hope that in our future we really will learn to raise our children with respect and without violence.

Two and a half stars: two for the episode, and an extra half for the hopeful message.


Child Vampires Without the Blood


by Jessica Dickinson Goodman

It’s the time of year for spooky stories and while Miri wasn’t pure horror, it had its fair share of unsettling moments: chanting children, violence in familiar settings, prosthetics designed to look like symptoms of Hansen's disease.

Horror, like science fiction, gives us a lens through which to view our own world.  In most horror, creators draw from what they think their audiences are afraid of: in this case, unruly children, certain forms of disease, and growing old. As set-dressing, they can also pull ideas from the news or culture: a headline about the 1963 measles vaccine that prolonged millions of children’s lives might inspire a writer to write a story such as Miri, twining together the wonders and the potential failures of mass vaccination.

Other creators have used the fears listed above to craft stories about vampires: immortal, living outside of the bounds of human society, violent, and mercurial. With different make-up and set-dressings, this episode could have taken place in a European castle or Soviet forest, with its hidden and chanting hordes of unaging, feral children, lost to time and civilization.

But this is Star Trek, not Blood Bath, The Blood Drinkers, Queen of Blood, Dracula: Prince of Darkness, The Empire of Dracula, Billy the Kid vs. Dracula, or any of the other vampire-focused horror films of the year (although, if Christopher Lee would be willing to make an appearance in a future episode, I am sure we would all welcome it). Rather than capes and coffins, we have tricorders and transporters, communicators and vaccines-on-demand. But the anxieties being addressed are still the same, and the episode gives the audience a chance to walk through our fears, reaching a satisfying conclusion.

Unlike much of the popular horror released this year, that conclusion did not involve buckets of blood; as Janice wisely notes, instead we got a hopeful vision of non-violence towards children, along with a diplomatic and science-driven solution to a centuries-long crisis. Endings like this are one of the reasons I often prefer science fiction flavored with horror over horror flavored with science fiction: I like the chance to live in Captain Kirk’s bright, utopian future each Thursday evening as the fall grows cooler and the shadows grow long.

(I can always catch Mr Lee’s latest flick if I find myself with an unholy craving.)

Happy Halloween!

Four stars.





[November 2, 1966] An Ending? (Doctor Who: The Tenth Planet)


By Jessica Holmes

Where do I begin? The latest serial of Doctor Who, penned by Kit Pedler for the first two episodes and Gerry Davis for the latter two, delivers some exciting twists and turns and real surprises, one of which may change the programme forever– or spell its doom.

Image: Barclay (foreground) sits in the control room

EPISODE ONE

The Doctor arrives at the Antarctic base of International Space Command in the year 1986. The men inside (and yes, even in 1986 it seems rocket science is a bit of a boys’ club) take notice of the new arrivals, but there’s no time to worry about them. The latest launch has run into trouble, reporting the sudden appearance of a new planet in the sky. Worse still, their ship is losing power.

I rather liked the presentation of future space exploration as an international affair. There’s men from all over the world among the staff of International Space Command, and one of the astronauts is played by Bermudian actor Earl Cameron. Nobody can do a good fake accent to save their lives, but they tried!

Image: Mondas in space. Mondas looks like Earth, but upside down.

The new planet looks just like Earth, but upside down. It takes a weirdly long time for people to realise that. The Doctor explains that the Earth once had a twin planet, and it has now returned. How this happened is unclear. Maybe it went on its holidays.

Things really kick off when a ship from this strange planet lands just outside the base. From it emerge men with faces made of taut fabric, bodies made of machinery, and curiously human hands.

A chill runs down the spine as one looks directly into the camera. There is something about the design of this entity that feels deeply… not just unnerving, but wrong. There’s a coldness in its gaze that penetrates the very soul.

Image: A Cyberman looks directly into the camera. It has a large lamp attached to its head via tubes connected to the ears. There is fabric stretched over its face, with rounded eye-holes and a slit for a mouth.

EPISODE TWO

Here we get a name for these newcomers to Earth: Cybermen, from the planet Mondas. They were like us, once. But their race was dying, so they had to augment their bodies with cybernetics in order to survive. They kept going, upgrading every inefficiency in the human body, until there is almost nothing left but the brain– and even that hasn’t been spared some tinkering. Considering emotion and empathy to be inefficiencies, they have removed them.

The result is one of the few truly nightmarish monsters to come from Doctor Who.  I think they're scarier than the Daleks. They should be naff, with their cobbled-together costumes that leave the hands visible. It’s as rough a costume as I’ve ever seen on the programme. However, every bit of it works to their advantage, visually telling the story of their cobbled-together cybernetic enhancements– you can imagine them transforming piece by piece into the horrors they are today. With their fabric ‘skin’ drawn taut over their faces, leaving them only with the suggestion of a nose, and wide, blank eyes, their visage is genuinely frightening. It’s even worse when they open their mouths, as an unnatural, almost sing-song approximation of human speech emerges from their gaping jaws.

Image: A Cyberman speaking

The Cybermen tell the ground crew that it’s impossible to get the astronauts out of orbit, as the pull of Mondas is too strong. The crew don’t listen, and continue to try to no avail, as the ship explodes…for some reason.

Ben, along with Polly, a recent companion of the Doctor, has the bright idea to try nicking a gun and making a break for the TARDIS. One of the Cybermen takes the gun away and bends it in half before locking Ben in another room. Surprisingly merciful, considering they killed a couple of blokes on their way in.

The Cybermen say Earth is in danger, and to save them, they must send a message to their leaders. The energy of Mondas is almost expended, so now it’s draining the energy from Earth. Let’s not think too hard about that. It’s more magic than science.

All life on Earth will stop, but the people don’t have to die! They can go to Mondas. The implications are clear. Well, nice of them to offer, I suppose, but while I wouldn’t say no to a stronger robotic body, I draw the line at having my brain tampered with. I wonder why they bothered telling the humans, given that they have no reason to. They say themselves that everyone on Earth dying wouldn’t affect the Cybermen in any way. So why extend the invitation? Politeness?

Image: General Cutler is visible in the bottom of the shot between a Cyberman's legs.
This shot zooming out through the Cyberman's nether regions might be the weirdest I've seen in all of television.

Ben starts trying to escape, managing to kill one of the Cybermen with their own weapon. He succeeds in sneaking this weapon to the General in charge of the base. General Cutler (Robert Beatty) promptly dispatches the Cybermen holding everyone hostage. This comes as a bit of an annoyance to the Doctor, given that the Cybermen were helpfully explaining their intentions.

Still, it’s bought them some time to radio their commander in Geneva and fill him in on what happened. It’s then that they learn another astronaut was sent into orbit to try and rescue the others. It's the General’s son.

The whole team starts scrambling to get him down, but there’s something else on the radar. Hundreds of spaceships in formation, heading right for Earth!

Image: A radar screen showing many white dots representing Cyberships approaching a larger dot representing Earth.

EPISODE THREE

The whole planetary energy-draining thing hits the Doctor first, with him collapsing mere moments into the episode. He spends the following twenty minutes having a nice nap.

Desperate to save his son, General Cutler decides that the only way to save Earth is to ensure the destruction of Mondas. He will have to use Earth’s greatest weapon… the Z-bomb. A planet-destroying bomb doesn’t sound that useful to me, but I can think of a couple of countries who would probably want one.

He can’t actually get express permission to use the bomb, but apparently there are no safeguards against him using it anyway. Ben and Polly urge him to wait, as the Doctor has a hypothesis that eventually Mondas will absorb too much energy from Earth and disintegrate. However, the General is unwilling to leave it to chance, even if the blast from the bomb would also kill everyone on the side of the Earth facing Mondas. Of course, he’ll be careful to ensure his son’s spacecraft isn’t on that side.

With the General beyond reason, Ben and Polly turn to the only other authority figure on the base, the head scientist Barclay (David Dodimead). Barclay clearly has doubts about the General’s plan, and it doesn’t take long for Polly to convince him to help her. Having designed the base, Barclay is able to show Ben and Polly a convenient ventilation shaft that leads right to the missile silo. With instructions from Barclay, Ben slips into the silo and tampers with the bomb. However, the General catches him red-handed, and gives the order to launch the missile.

Image: A missile emerging from a silo in Antarctica.

EPISODE FOUR

It turns out that Ben was successful in sabotaging the missile as it fails to launch. Oh, and the Doctor’s feeling better now. Goody!

The General, rather put out, pulls a gun on a defiant Barclay, but his son gets in contact before he can bark any more orders. However, when the base loses the capsule’s radio signal, the General immediately assumes the worst. Convinced that his son is dead, the General threatens to kill the Doctor for causing the delay in the launch. I suppose he missed that the Doctor was napping through that whole incident.

Luckily for the Doctor, more Cybermen burst in before the General can do him any harm, and shoot General Cutler dead.

Image: Three Cybermen enter the control room.

The Doctor thanks them for saving his life, and offers them a chance to save their own. Mondas is doomed, but the Cybermen don’t have to die with it. If they ask nicely and agree not to go around shooting people, they could all come and live on Earth in peace.

Well. I think various governments might have a thing or two to say about that, but it’s an idea. The Cybermen agree to think about it, but they’d like the missile to be disarmed first, which is a fair enough request. What feels less fair is their insistence that they take Polly as a hostage, but the Doctor agrees to that too, in the interests of keeping the situation under control.

Nobody bothers to ask Polly what she thinks.

However, it soon turns out that the Cybermen have not been honest about their intentions. They’ve landed all over the world, and they’ve decided they’d rather keep their own planet. They’ll save it by destroying Earth with the Z-bomb.

Gee, who would have thought having a planet-destroying weapon could possibly be dangerous to the survival of the planet we live on?

The idea is that with Earth gone, Mondas will stop absorbing its energy, and it won’t disintegrate. I don’t suppose they’ve thought about the colossal release of energy involved in a planet-destroying explosion. The Doctor manages to warn Ben and the others, who are currently disarming the bomb, against helping the Cybermen. It’s then that Ben realises that there must be a reason that the Cybermen are using humans to handle the bomb. What if the Cybermen are vulnerable to radiation?

Aren’t we all?

Having had enough of the Doctor’s meddling, the Cybermen take him on board their ship, where his health immediately takes a turn for the worse.

Ben, meanwhile, comes up with the bright idea to use the fuel rods from the on-site nuclear reactor as a weapon against the Cybermen. And these men of science go along with it.

I’m starting to get the feeling that science wasn’t the writer’s best subject at school.

The radioactive death-stick does the job nicely, and Ben somehow gets back to the control room without coming down with a nasty case of acute radiation poisoning, managing to get rid of all the Cybermen on the base in the process.

Image: The planet Mondas melts.

They’re about to start luring in other Cybermen with their own communication devices, but Mondas chooses that moment to conveniently melt. With it the Cybermen also disintegrate, having been reliant on energy from Mondas.

Oh, and it turns out that the General’s son is alive after all. With the Cyberman menace gone for good, he can come back home.

Ben rushes to the cybership to rescue Polly and the Doctor, and finds the old fellow unconscious. He manages to rouse the Doctor, who seems in a bad way. Agitated, the Doctor hurries back to the TARDIS.

And then something happens.

Something weird.

The Doctor collapses to the floor as the TARDIS takes off, and the screen brightens until the Doctor’s face is completely obscured. As the light fades away, the Doctor is gone.

No, not gone.

Replaced.

There’s a man lying in the exact same spot– but it’s definitely not the Doctor.

Image: The Doctor unconscious on the floor. He is played by Patrick Troughton.

Final Thoughts

It’s safe to say I liked this serial well enough. The Cybermen are a great enemy, but the plot doesn’t do much for me. It’s fine, I just don’t think it really uses the Cybermen to their full advantage. They feel almost tangential to the whole plot, and ultimately the Doctor defeats them by…wasting time. Not a terribly interesting resolution.

What I really want to talk about is what in the world just happened to the Doctor? I’m sure I made half the neighbourhood jump with my sudden outburst of ‘WHAT?!’ at the end of the final episode.

Where did he go? Did he go anywhere, or is that man in fact our same dear old Doc? I don’t know what to make of this development.

It’s no secret that Mr. Hartnell’s health has been rather up-and-down of late (in fact, his absence in Episode Three was due to ill health), and I had wondered how much longer he’d be up to continuing with the programme. Certainly I’d rather that he takes care of his health than continue to force himself through an intensive filming schedule. A friend of mine did find a tiny notice in the Manchester Guardian that mentioned that Mr. Hartnell was to be replaced by Patrick Troughton, and there have been rumours flying around, so I suppose the departure isn’t that much of a surprise.

I think what really flabbergasts me is the suddenness of the changeover. We’ve barely even started the new series, and the lead’s gone and vanished! If we are to assume this new man is in fact the Doctor (which seems more likely, what with the name of the programme), what does that mean for him as a character? Is he more-or-less a new person, having nothing in common but a name? I hope not.

I’ve grown attached to the Doctor as portrayed by Mr. Hartnell, and I don’t think I like the idea of him being effectively replaced and all of his character development wiped away. He’s just done such a good job! Even when the Doctor was a grumpy so-and-so, he was still fun to watch, and I loved his ability to balance the Doctor’s mischievous side with his more serious moments. There’s a warmth and wit to his portrayal that reminds me of my grandpa. It might sound childish, but I don’t want them to get rid of my TV-grandpa!

At the same time, having another actor do an impression of Mr. Hartnell’s Doctor seems sure to invite comparison, and I can’t imagine it would be favourable. I’m familiar with Patrick Troughton, having seen him on television a fair bit, but he’s a rather different kind of actor from Mr. Hartnell. A different temperament altogether. He’s younger for one thing, so will he have the same gravitas? Still, I’m not going to judge the new chap until I’ve seen him in action. I’m sure he knows he’s got some big shoes to fill.

There’s little point in speculating much about how exactly this process works within the actual story. It’ll be a weird vaguely-scientific thing I’m sure, probably to do with the TARDIS.

What does this mean for the programme, though? Will people still want to watch without the real Doctor? The new fellow doesn’t look anything like Mr. Hartnell, so the kids are surely going to notice.

Honestly, I’m at a loss. I don’t know if this is a good thing, or a bad thing. Will this open up new avenues for the Doctor’s story, or is it doomed to failure?

I’m sad to see William Hartnell go, most certainly, and I wish him the very best. Thank you, Mr. Hartnell, for three years of being our Doctor.

Image: William Hartnell in his first appearance as the Doctor.

Still, I must admit…. I’m incredibly curious to see what comes next.

5 out of 5 stars




[October 31, 1966] Respite from the horror (November 1966 Analog Science Fiction)


by Gideon Marcus

Boo!

It's a scary world out there.  If ever there was an appropriate time to be reminded of it, it's today, Halloween.  These days, it's not the supernatural or the spooky that frightens the bejeezus out of us (though UFO sightings are at a record high).  No, it's real-world issues like the ongoing, escalating war in Vietnam.  Thousands of our boys have died over there, and there's no end in sight.  The other day, Stokely Carmichael, head of the Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee, said he had no intention of fighting were he to be drafted.  He's currently living with the Sword of Damocles of his latest physical fitness exam — will he be judged fit for duty?  Is prison preferable to serving in an unjust war?

There are fears on the domestic front, too.  Grocery prices have spiraled to ridiculous levels, and an organized army of housewives has picketed the stores in at least 15 cities across America.  Can they effect change before basic foods get too expensive too afford?

I think all of this existential dread is why folks turn to fiction.  I've now had several fans of my Kitra series note their appreciation that, while they find Kitra's adventures riveting, they take comfort in knowing that she and her crew will come out safe in the end.  It's a reassurance they aren't finding in real life

I felt similarly reading the latest issue of Analog.  Sometimes science fiction paints grim futures, even seeming to relish in the despondence of the characters who inhabit them (q.v. Harrison's overpopulation nightmare, Make Room!  Make Room!).  Such works are important.  Cautionary tales are important.  They show us potentialities to avoid.  They challenge us to think.  But sometimes, you just want an interesting story where you know things will all work out.  Analog's editor John Campbell has given us two quite good ones this month (and some other stuff).


by Kelly Freas

Yay!

Quarantine World, by Murray Leinster


by Kelly Freas

Dr. Calhoun of the Med Service has reason to be suspicious.  The planet Lanke is ostensibly perfectly healthy, yet the government is going out of its way to hide something from him.  Moreover, Lanke's politicians are keenly interested in the public health specifically for its insuring the bottom line of their economy.  It is thus with appropriate shock to all concerned that a plague-infested person, obviously an off-worlder, crashes Calhoun's reception.  More shocking — the Lanke government insists Calhoun have nothing to do with the individual, who is shot by the authorities.  When he performs a cursory examination of the corpse, he is summarily ejected from the planet.

Whereupon he contracts the deadly disease, and his trusty tormal, the antibodies-producing cat/monkey called Murgatroyd, is unable to synthesize a cure!  Calhoun's only clue (and hope!) is the existence of a failed colony on the nearby planet of Delhi.  Perhaps there he can solve the mystery of his illness before he…and the population of Linke…succumbs to it.

Murray Leinster is often called the dean of science fiction.  He's been writing for decades, and sadly, the tape is starting to wear a little thin.  He pads out his work a lot, and his characters mostly sound alike.  There is a strange, juvenile character to his writing that feels out of place in Analog.  Honestly, it may be less a matter of literary senility, and more that of bilking an extra hundred bucks from Campbell for the extra verbiage; writers are paid by the word, after all.

But.

It's a good story, highlighting several interesting social issues (capitalism uber alles, the treatment of criminals and political dissidents, the role of medicine).  It's a great universe, one I've drawn inspiration from for my Kitra books.  And Murgatroyd is an absolute joy to read about. 

So, three stars. 

Facts to Fit the Theory, by Christopher Anvil


by Kelly Freas

The human colony of Cyrene IV is about to be invaded by the rapacious Stath.  Yet the Cyrenicans refuse to join the Terran Federation, which would protect them under the auspices of a non-aggression pact with the Stath.  All attempts to coerce an application to the Federation are thwarted by increasingly improbable events, all of which point to some kind of religio-psychic interference on the part of the colonists.

Then the Stath arrive.  Their attemps to be mean and nasty are also countered by freak occurrences, up to and including a planetary hurricane.  They leave, tail between their legs.  The human military officers are admonished to write up a full report, but to explain the chronology without invoking ESP.

Could there be a more archetypical Chris Anvil Analog story? 

  • Tongue-in-cheek?  Check.
  • Humans come out ahead?  Check.
  • Prominent figuring of psionics?  Check.
  • Authorities are stupid for not acknowleding the existence of psionics?  Check.
  • The Traveler sick of stories like this?  Check and Check.

Two stars because it's readable, but please, no more.  I beg you.

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

A fascinating if abstruse piece from Dr. Clark.  It's about the importance of a matching set of physical dimensions for rendering useful measurements.  Forget the "English" system, and even the metric system isn't truly universal.  Clark offers up one of his own, while describing the history of the ones we currently use. 

Much denser than Asimov's stuff, but it was in my wheelhouse.  Four stars.

Letter from a Higher Critic, by Stewart Robb


by Kelly Freas

In which folks in the 22nd Century, having lost most historical sources of the 19th and 20th Century, deem that World War 2 is too improbable to have occurred as recounted.  The primary objection is that the names of all of the major players, from Roosevelt to Churchill to Adolph Hitler to Stalin, are too on-the-nose to represent real people. 

Very slight stuff.  Blink and you'll miss it.  Read and you'll forget it.

Two stars.

Too Many Magicians (Part 4 of 4), by Randall Garrett


by John Schoenherr

And now we come to the end, both of the magazine, and of this most promising murder mystery serial from Randall Garrett.  Good luck putting it down — it is a rollercoaster from the opening sequence, in which Lord D'Arcy has just dived into the Thames to rescue a bewitched woman, to the final scene, in which Chief Investigator for the Duke of Normandy identifies the culprit from among nine suspects.

It's a well-drawn whodunnit, weakened only by its separation into four parts (which the assured novelization will fix).  The solution is plausible and (mostly) independently deducible.  The guilty party makes sense.  I appreciated the quantum mechanics element of the case, too; it is impossible to observe matters without affecting them.  It makes this particular Lord D'arcy case quite dynamic.  I also noted the homage to Twelve Angry Men in one scene.

Garrett has gotten much better at handling woman characters: Mary, Dowager Duchess of Cumberland, and Demoiselle Tia Einzig are nicely realized and pivotal players.  Hard to believe this is the same fellow who wrote Queen Bee.  For the same magazine!

So, five stars for this segment, four and a half for the story as a whole, and I won't be surprised if this gets a Hugo nod in New York next year!

Summing up: Two tricks and three treats

Setting aside the Anvil and the Robb, Analog really delivered the goods this month, providing a bubble of reassuring entertainment in a frightening era.  Clocking in at 3.4 stars, it surpasses or ties with the other magazines this month except for the exceptional Science-Fantasy/Impulse (3.7 stars). 

Technically, Fantastic (3.5 stars) was also better, but given that it was largely reprints, I don't know that it's a fair comparison.  Of the all-new material mags, the order goes Fantasy and Science Fiction (3.4), New Worlds (3.1), IF (3), and Worlds of Tomorrow (2.3).

It was actually a great month for fiction.  One could fill three whole magazines with all the four and five star stuff.  Sadly, there was not a single woman-penned piece of fiction published in a pro mag with a November 1966 date. 

And with that, the unpleasant real world intrudes again.  Ah well.  I managed to avoid it for most of an article.  Maybe next month will bring happier news on this front.



[Actually, there's happier news right now!  Sirena, the second book in The Kitra Saga, has been a smash hit, and I think you'll dig it, too.  Buy a copy…you'll be supporting me and getting a great read at the same time!]



[October 28, 1966] "Seconds" Presents a Different Kind of Horror


by Jason Sacks

Whatever happened to the dreams of youth?

Arthur Hamilton is a man in his fifties. He's bored and lonely, tied down to responsibilities and to people that he just doesn't care about. He's trapped in his own head, in his own existential middle aged angst, filled with a longing, aching, painful feeling that his life just hasn't gone the direction he wanted it to go.

Hamilton once was a tournament-winning tennis player who attended an Ivy League school. Hamilton once had dreams of making a living as a painter, someone free to express himself through his art and creativity. Instead Hamilton labors at suffocating job, as a bank manager who spends his days concerned about topics like debt-to-equity ratio.

Hamilton's family life is equally as suffocating. His only child, a daughter, has moved all the way to California fron New York. Though she's the pride of his life, Hamilton seldom talks to his daughter. And his relationship with wife Emily also suffocates Hamilton. Their life stultifying, dull, set into a set of grooves so deep it's impossible to see out of them.

So when Arthur is offered the chance to suddenly change his life, to literally experience life as a new person, he takes the chance to get a new face, fingerprints, and a completely new life courtesy of a mysterous corporation.

And, in the end, Arthur will learn that happiness does not come from the outside but from the inside.

Seconds is the new film directed by John Frankenheimer, whose work I loved in last year's 7 Days in May and the brilliant 1963 film The Manchurian Candidate. Like those two other great paranoid thrillers, Seconds delivers a nightmare vision of America that resonates with our current day, delivered in a steady pace that creates a world that both tempts and terrifies, and that shows a hyper-realized version of our everyday lives.

The move starts with a compelling title sequence. Created by the brilliant Saul Bass, the sequence focuses in on ultra close up images of a man's face. Seldom has an ordinary human body looked so strange in the movies, and this sequence sets up a profoundly upsetting stage for the film to follow.

A few of the brilliantly terrifying images Saul Bass throws at the viewer during the title sequence of Seconds.

After the credits, we get an equally strange and dislocating sequence at New York's Grand Central Station. The station is often shown as a cathedral or a simple transportation hub during films. But I can't remember an instance when the great civic landmark looked so upsetting and strange as Frankeinheimer and cinematographer James Wong Howe create a helter skelter impressionistic maze of ratlike passages below the station that tighten the sense of paranoia and confusion.

As he steps onto the train, Hamilton is handed a slip of paper by a man who quickly dashes off, a confusing encounter in a day of confusing events. Hamilton glances at the paper and sees the address written on it. Nothing else is given him, no information about what is at the address or why he should pay attention to it, but Hamilton is deeply troubled by the encounter. Hamilton's hands shake as he pulls out his newspaper, and his mind is too troubled to do his daily crossword puzzle.

Arthur Hamilton wandering to his train in Grand Central Station, little expecting the encounter that will change his life

As we find out, this strange event connects to another confusing experience that happened to Hamilton the night before. An old friend from his tennis playing days, long thought dead, called Hamilton to ask about his life. That night, the same friend calls Hamilton back. They confirm the friend's identity with a fact nobody else would know, and our protagonist finds himself deeply confused, in a state of existential doubt.

Arthur Hamilton's life has been radically changed these last two days. His previously deep groove is having its walls knocked down, and the resulting existential confusion terrifies Hamilton. He's in a cold sweat – a recurring element of this film – contemplating his life changing in unexpected ways.

When his wife Emily tries to comfort Arthur, even making a small romantic pass at him, Arthur turns away. He can't break out of his groove. He's too trapped in his own ennui, his persona of bland, bored placidity to change any aspect of his everyday life. The couple who dutifully give each other pecks on the cheek and who sleep in separate beds simply cannot change their lives. They are too trapped in their groove to imagine anything more.

Arthur is trapped in his own skin, tragic and pathetic in his inability to change.

How can anybody like that, living a life of deeply sad boredom, turn away from a chance to change himself? Hamilton has to go to the corporation – the cold sweat he feels the next day at work brings him there – and he turns away from his dull life in weathy Scarsdale and towards a new life, a mysterious life that will allow him a second chance to live out his youthful dreams.

Arthur Hamilton undergoes surgery and is reborn with a new name (Antiochus Wilson) and a new body, handsomer and younger looking. No longer is the distinguished-looking, 50-year-old  man played by John Randolph. Now he is played by the dashing Rock Hudson, matinee idol and icon for masculine confidence and charm.

The casting of Hudson in this role is a masterstroke. It's hard to imagine anyone better suited to play Antiochus Wilson than Hudson, and his performance in this film is a revelation. I'm used to seeing Hudson as the chamingly bland leading man in a series of Doris Day vehicles, but here he seems like a man caught between two worlds. He delivers a deeply passionate performance as a man caught between what he aspires to become and what he actually is.

That might best be displayed in the ambiguous relationship he has with the glorious actress Salome Jens, playing her character Nora Marcus like a divorcee set free from her own responsibities. She and Wilson quickly connect to each other, appropriate since their lives seem so parallel.

Their relationship comes to a head in a deeply strange and fascinating scene of a bacchanalian winemaking event the couple attend, in which the love of grapes causes all inhibitions to be cast off. It is in that moment that we begin to see Hudson's acting skills on full display, and see that his existential confusion hasn't disappeared because he's in a new body. No matter how much we can change our appearances, we will always be ourselves. That realization leads to several more thrilling twists and turns until we reach the deeply disturbing conclusion of this film.

By the time we reach the terrifying conclusion of Seconds, we can't help but to see ourselves in the split persona of Arthur Hamilton and Antiochus Wilson. No faceless corporation can ever truly free us from the person we are in our heads, and no mere physical changes can change us emotionally. People can't change unless they commit to actually changing themselves. No change wrought by outside forces or through physical change can stick.

We are all trapped inside our own minds.

And that might be the most frightening horror of all.

Four stars.






55 years ago: Science Fact and Fiction