Movies

[February 16, 1966] An import-ant next step in my Sci-fi journey (Them!)

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by Dana Pellebon

A Fortuitous Meeting

Hello travelers! I’m very excited to begin my journey with you. I had the pleasure of recently meeting Gideon Marcus at a fundraiser for Heifer Inc. While raising money for this important organization, I had the opportunity to talk with him about some of our shared interests. We found out that we were both born in California, enjoyed quite a bit of the same music, and have a shared love of sci-fi.

My love of sci-fi began with the release of the Godzilla movies from Japan. The fantastical storylines and the varied monster villains captures my imagination. The excitement of it all culminates with the King of the Monsters, Godzilla, taking over the screen, creating havoc, and establishing dominance. So when Gideon talked about writing something for Galactic Journey, it was an easy choice for me to say yes and then to cast about for an example of my favorite genre of sci-fi movies, giant monsters.


Gojira, 1954

It's Movie Time!

I was lucky to find a fine example of the genre from the last decade on television. Them! was released in 1954, the same year Godzilla first made landfall. Written by Ted Sherdeman and directed by Gordon Douglas, Them! is one of the pioneers of the nuclear monster movies and is one of the first overgrown bug features. At least, so it said in the newspaper. Thus intrigued, last weekend I settled into my couch with my Jiffy Pop popcorn to spend the next hour and a half transfixed.


Them!, 1954

The story opens with some fantastic mood music and sweeps over the desert with a bird’s eye view from a plane. That alone is already exciting. Soundtracks are so important to the feel of the movie and the soundscape immediately inspires dread and suspense. You see a figure walking alone, which is an unusual way out in the middle of nowhere, and it turns out to be a mute little girl. As soon as I see a kid wandering alone obviously traumatized, it immediately puts me on edge which heightens the already suspenseful moments. When the officers start to transport the young girl to the hospital, there’s a high pitched sound and you see her respond briefly unbeknownst to the officers next to her. But, it’s a disconcerting moment. Further investigation finds she is the sole survivor of an attack on her family. At this point, the movie sets the stage for a mystery and the suspense is already killing me to find out what’s next.

More Than Just A Pretty Face

Another killing and disappearance later, the police and FBI agents on the case are perplexed to learn two scientists from the Department of Agriculture are joining the investigation. Meeting them at the airport, the first exit from the plane shows the legs of a man, Dr. Harold Medford. On the second exit, you could see the shapely legs of a woman in heels. I am pleasantly surprised that the second scientist is a woman named Dr. Patricia Medford, the daughter of Dr. Harold Medford. The focus, however, is not on her as an attractive woman but as a researcher. She isn’t there as decoration but is an active, equal part of the investigative team. Having a female lead character where the central theme is her brains and not her beauty is a refreshing departure from how women are commonly depicted in film.


Drs. Patricia and Harold Medford deep in discussion while Agent Graham and Sgt. Peterson listen in

She and her father are myrmecologists and they take the lead on the investigation into the killings. They are very reticent to give information and are hostile to questions about their process. It is surprising how much leeway the scientists are given with the FBI and police. But, a strong woman lead makes me happy and it is a pleasant change of pace over the traditional paradigm. After the team starts investigating in the desert where the child was found, the gigantic ant reveals itself to attack Dr. Patricia Medford. The first ant vs. human shootout occurs on film and it is a gas! Even though the gigantic ant is a little corny and doesn’t move very fast, there is a palpable sense of urgency. After realizing hand guns are not doing the trick, the police officer brings out a machine gun and puts down the ant.


Ant attacks Dr. Patricia Medford and Agent Graham!

The rest of the plot becomes a cat and mouse game of finding the wayward ants and eradicating them. From cyanide gas to bombing to flamethrowers, humans go through great lengths to protect themselves and their territory. It is at this point that I feel pretty sorry for the ants. They really were just following their nature, foraging for food and being ants. In fact, the whole situation is really our fault: it is revealed that the ants were mutated by the atomic bomb tests of the 40’s. Our thirst for atomic bombs created literal monsters that then have to be killed. Dr. Harold Medford states the final lines of the film, which ends up being the most poignant moment for me personally:, “When Man entered the atomic age, he opened a door into a new world. What we’ll eventually find in that new world, nobody can predict.”


Final Showdown!

The Atomic Age?

I’m holding out hope that this new nuclear world Dr. Medford mentions won’t be in too much of a hurry to destroy itself. We've already seen the horrors it produced at Hiroshima and Nagasaki in 1945 and we got a sneak preview of coming attractions during the Cuban Missile Crisis. And now I have to be on the lookout for giant animals when I’m back in the desert Southwest!

Nevertheless, I really enjoy this movie, which shares common themes with Godzilla. The conceit that humanity’s interests take precedence, regardless of the cost to nature (and the ensuing catastrophe this causes humanity) is something that gets played with quite a bit in those movies and I end up ultimately rooting for what many people consider to be the villain. Plus, in addition being morally resonant, Them! is just a lot of fun. I am now craving more “monster” movies and will be scanning the local listings to expand my palate of sci-fi.

Four stars.

The Journey is once again up for a Best Fanzine Hugo nomination — and its founder is up for several other awards as well! If you've got a Worldcon membership, or if you just want to see what Gideon's done that's Hugo-worthy, please read his Hugo Eligibility article! Thank you for your continued support.




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Fashion, music, politics, sports

[February 14, 1966] "…to Replace the Pounds and the Shillings and the Pence" (Australia Goes Decimal)

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by Kaye Dee

Today is C-Day (Conversion Day) – the day Australia switches to decimal currency after 140 years of using the British system of Pounds, Shillings and Pence. (I actually think it should have been called D-Day, for Decimalisation Day, but I guess that might have seemed insensitive to some of our returned servicemen). Schoolkids are now sighing with relief that they will not have to learn to do those complicated “money sums” like all the generations before them!

A Rum Deal

Australia’s monetary history is rather colourful. In the early days of the penal colony in Sydney, there was very little hard currency available, and most transactions were by barter. Rum and other spirits became a form of currency, controlled by corrupt military officers, which earned their regiment the nickname “the Rum Corps”. When Governor Bligh (yes, that Bligh of Mutiny on the Bounty fame!) tried to prohibit spirits from being used as a medium of exchange, it resulted in a mutiny that drove him from the colony in 1808. This event is known, not surprisingly, as the Rum Rebellion.


Governor Macquarie, Bligh’s successor, introduced the first Australian currency. He purchased 40,000 Spanish dollars and had a round piece punched out of the middle of each one, producing two coins – the “holey dollar” (valued at five shillings) and the “dump” (valued at one shilling and three pence). His “minter” was a convicted forger!

Real Money

In the mid-1820s, the British Government finally decided to provide the Australian colonies with a proper currency and introduced the British system of Pounds, Shillings and Pence. If you’re not familiar with it, 12 pence (pennies) made up a shilling and 20 shillings made one pound.

Australia used British coins and banknotes right up into the early 1900s. It wasn’t until 1910, nine years after the colonies federated to form the Commonwealth of Australia, that the Australian Pound was introduced. Even then, it was branches of Britain’s Royal Mint in Sydney, Melbourne and Perth that produced the coins, indicating how closely Australia remained tied to Britain. The first Royal Australian Mint was only opened in early 1965 to produce our new decimal coins. 


Australian Pound notes (with pretty boring designs) and the full range of Australian coins available before the changeover to decimal currency. A "florin" was another name for a two shilling coin

Going Decimal

Several times in the past 50 years, there have been suggestions for Australia to adopt a decimal currency system. Decimal currency puts us in line with all the world’s major currencies, apart from the Pound Sterling, and all our trading partners apart from Great Britain. But Britain did not want Australia to change its monetary system, and successive Australian Governments and the Reserve Bank of Australia ultimately accepted the British view.

However, in the late 1950s, Prime Minister Robert Menzies finally recognised the economic and pragmatic importance of converting to a decimalised currency. With Australia’s export trade increasing, the complexity of the Pounds, Shillings and Pence system made the arithmetic of financial transactions unnecessarily difficult (as I know from personal experience). Research showed that decimalisation would save the Australian economy more than £11 million ($22 million) a year, through the increased convenience of a decimal currency. This would quickly offset the £30 million ($60 million) cost of conversion. So, in 1963 the Currency Act nominated 14 February 1966 as the day Australia would go decimal.

In Come the Dollars…

Our new currency needed a name and new designs that would be uniquely Australian. A public competition was held in 1963 to find a name “with an Australian flavour” for the currency. About 1000 submissions were received. These included suggestions such as Austral, Boomer (a male kangaroo), Kanga, Roo, Emu, Digger (an Australian soldier), Zac (old nickname for a sixpence coin; it’s also slang for something worthless), Kwid (a funny spelling of the old slang “quid” meaning a Pound), and Ming (from Prime Minister Menzies’ nickname, which comes from the Flash Gordon character “Ming the Merciless”!).


1963 prototype designs for the possible new "Royal". As you can see, one design followed the style of the existing Pound note, the other was quite modern and tilts towards the style in the eventual dollar design

Mr. Menzies rejected all the competition’s suggestions. Being a fervent monarchist, he proposed instead calling the currency the Royal. However, the public made it clear that they didn’t like that name (I certainly didn’t!), so in September 1963, the Treasurer announced that our new currency would be the dollar (which would be the equivalent of 10 shillings), divided into 100 cents. Everyone was much happier with that.

Monopoly Money
It was decided that the new coins should depict Australian wildlife while the notes should reflect national history and Australia’s contribution to the wider world. Gordon Andrews, one of Australia’s leading industrial designers, has designed the new notes. His bright colours and modern style have already led to some wits comparing the new notes to “Monopoly money”, but I think they look great and represent a nation which is coming out from under Britain’s shadow and finding its own feet. 

Australia's new decimal coins. The 1 cent piece shows a possum (a completely different animal from the American opossum); the 2 cent, a frill-necked lizard; the 5 cent coin shows an echidna (otherwise known as a spiny ant-eater) and the 10 cent a lyre-bird; the 20 cent depicts a platypus and the 50 cent coin carries the Australian Coat of Arms, which includes a kangaroo and an emu

The $1 note acknowledges Australia’s origins depicting Aboriginal art and Queen Elizabeth II, while the $2 highlights Australian agricultural innovation in the development of the superfine wool Australian Merino sheep and rust-disease resistant Federation wheat. The $10 note recognises the freed convicts who helped to build this country and our home-grown poets and writers, and the $20 celebrates internationally renowned Australian aviation pioneers. I understand that next year, once we have become more used to the new notes, a $5 bill will also be introduced. Hopefully, it will recognise the often-overlooked contribution of women to Australia’s history.

Our new dollar notes, with their fresh modern styling. To make the transition easier for users, the decimal notes have been matched to their counterparts in the “old money” and are similarly, but more brightly, coloured as you can see by comparison with the earlier image of the Australian Pounds

Meet Dollar Bill


Dollar Bill, the decimal changeover mascot, singing his jingle to a classical musician playing an instrument shaped like the Pound symbol

In April last year, a new character appeared on our TV screens and in cinema ads. His name is “Dollar Bill” and he was introduced as part of the government’s campaign to educate everyone about decimal currency before C-Day arrived. Dollar Bill has been on TV every night (sometimes too many times a night!), singing his catchy little jingle to help familiarise people with the new currency values and the date of changeover. The most memorable part of the jingle is: “In come the dollars and in come the cents, to replace the pounds and the shillings and the pence. Be prepared folks when the coins begin to mix, on the fourteenth of February 1966”. I’m not sure why, but the identity of the person who provides the voice for Dollar Bill is being kept a secret.

The jingle’s tune is based on the folk song “Click Go the Shears” (about sheering sheep in outback Australia). Everyone knows that song, so it makes the decimal currency rhyme easy to remember. I think it’s engraved on my brain now: I’ve heard it so many times, I suspect I’ll still be able to sing it when I’m sixty! Those of you in America might be interested to know that the tune was originally an American Civil War song "Ring the Bell, Watchman" by Henry Clay Work, that somehow made its way down under.


The character is very popular with kids and apparently the Decimal Currency Board gets about 500 fan mail letters a week for Dollar Bill from school children. He has appeared on everything from billboards to matchbox covers. 

To appeal to the teenage audience, there’s a hip little rock number called “The Decimal Point Song”, sung by a young man named Ian Turpie. It was never going to rate on the pop charts, but I think young Turpie could have a good career ahead of him in entertainment. For older Australians there’s even a series of television ads called “Get with It, Gran”.


Major retailers are helping customers feel comfortable with the changeover by including decimal prices and their "old money" equivalents in their catalogues

It's not easy for older people, or younger ones either for that matter, to get used to the change, especially if they are not very good at maths. But at least we have two years of changeover, during which both old and new currency can be used. Of course, the kids now in Primary School have it easy, as they'll grow up with the new system. It will be interesting to see on the news tonight how the first day of the changeover goes, but I doubt there will be the chaos that some pessimists are predicting after all the community preparation. And who knows – if things go smoothly, maybe the government will even consider taking Australia metric as well in the future! 


There are quite a few handy little pocket calculators like these available that make the conversion process relatively easy. I'll bet their inventors are making a small fortune




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Magazine, Science Fiction/Fantasy

[February 12, 1966] Past?  Imperfect.  Future?  Tense. (March 1966 Fantastic)

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by Victoria Silverwolf

Straight From the Horse's Mouth

The Noble Editor and my Esteemed Colleagues always do a fine job of informing our fellow Journeyers about what's happening on Earth and in outer space. There is one small piece of news, however, which seems to have escaped notice.

The last episode of Mister Ed appeared on American television screens last week. For those of you fortunate enough not to be familiar with this program, it's about a talking horse.


The star of the program. I believe there are some human actors as well.

I find it remarkable that a show with a premise that does not lend itself to a large number of variations has lasted for more than five years. For those of you who are counting, that's five times as long as the excellent, groundbreaking series East Side/West Side.


George C. Scott as New York City social worker Neil Brock. He doesn't seem happy about being outdone by a loquacious equine.

To add insult to injury, Mister Ed wasn't even original, but an obvious imitation of a series of low budget movies about Francis the Talking Mule, who appeared in no less than seven films from 1950 to 1956.


In Hollywood, changing a talking mule to a talking horse is known as creativity.

How Green Was My Valley

If the success of Mister Ed proves that entertainment was less than perfect in the recent past, a new novel suggests that the future of popular literature may lead to some tension among sensitive readers.


Every Night, Josephine! is a nonfiction book about the author's dog. I can't seem to get away from animals, can I?

Jacqueline Susann's first novel, Valley of the Dolls, appeared in bookstores a couple of days ago. The word on the street is that it is quite racy. I expect the author will earn a fair amount of greenbacks from this fledgling work of fiction.

A Songbird Flies Back

In the world of popular music, even a song a few weeks old can seem dated. A little more than a year ago, multilingual British singer Petula Clark had a Number One hit in the USA with her upbeat number Downtown, which I quite like. I might even say her past success is far from imperfect.

Now she's back with another smash hit. It makes me a little tense to realize that My Love isn't as good a song as Downtown, but I have to admit that the lady can sing, and I wish her more success in the future.


You're going to the top of the charts, dear.

Half a Century for Half a Buck

Given the fact that Fantastic and its sister publication Amazing are now filling their pages with lots of reprints, not all of them classics, we have plenty of evidence that speculative fiction's past hasn't always been perfect. The latest issue goes back in time nearly fifty years, but also features a couple of new works. Appropriately, many of the stories deal with threats from the distant past, while the only futuristic tale describes a tense situation that may confront the people of tomorrow.


Cover art by Frank R. Paul, reprinted from the back cover of the November 1940 issue of Amazing Stories, as shown below.


I don't think this is a very accurate picture of what the surface of the moon Titan might be like.

The Bells of Shoredan, by Roger Zelazny


Illustrations by Gray Morrow.

We've already met Dilvish, a warrior who escaped from Hell, a couple of times before. He returns to the material world to defend his homeland, with the aid of a being that takes the form of a steel talking horse. (There's that again! Francis and Ed, what hath thou wrought?)

In this adventure, he journeys to the ruins of an incredibly ancient, seemingly deserted citadel. His quest is to ring enchanted bells that will summon soldiers from the limbo where they have been trapped for an immense amount of time. Along the way, he acquires a temporary companion in the form of a priest.


The unlikely pair witness a ghostly battle.

Dilvish is an intriguing character, and the author gives readers just enough information about his past to make them want to know more. This sword-and-sorcery yarn is full of imaginative supernatural happenings and plenty of action. I could quibble about the author's attempt to sound archaic — he has a habit of inserting the word did before verbs in order to sound old-fashioned — but that's a minor point. Overall, it's a solid example of the form. I'd place it somewhere between Robert E. Howard and Fritz Leiber, and a little bit higher than John Jakes.

Four stars.

Hardly Worth Mentioning, By Chad Oliver


Cover art by W. T. Mars.

From the pages of the May/June 1953 issue of the magazine comes this tale of unexpected rivals of humanity from the mists of prehistory.


Illustrations by Ernie Barth.

A team of archeologists digging in rural Mexico discovers a plastic disk in a layer of soil from pre-Columbian times. The apparent paradox leads the protagonist to discover that another humanoid species, distinct from Homo sapiens, has been directing human history since the beginning. They even have the ability to travel in time, in order to correct little mistakes, like leaving the plastic disk where it could be found centuries later.


An army of the time travelers arrives in an ancient Indian village.

When the archeologist discovers the truth, the humanoids hurt him in the worst way possible. Knowing that he cannot fight them directly, he resolves to protect the future of humanity in a different way.

The author is an anthropologist by profession, so his portrait of the related field of archeology is completely convincing. The price the protagonist must pay for learning too much carries a powerful emotional impact. I was pleased and surprised to find out that the story avoids a melodramatic battle between the two species, but instead ends in a quiet, hopeful, bittersweet fashion.

Four stars.

Axe and Dragon (Part Three of Three), by Keith Laumer


Illustration by Gray Morrow.

In the first two parts of this novel, we journeyed with our hero, one Lafayette O'Leary, into another reality, that he seemed to create through self-hypnosis. After many wild adventures, he wound up getting blamed for the disappearance of a beautiful princess. Now he sets out to rescue her from a legendary ogre and his dragon.

This segment starts off with an even more comedic tone than the others, bordering on the just plain silly. Lafayette meets with some folks who are obviously intended to be cartoon versions of Arabs. They remind me of a famous novelty song from a few years ago, Ahab the Arab, by comic singer Ray Stevens. As an example of the goofiness, at a feast they not only consume Chinese and Hawaiian dishes, but bottles of Pepsi.

Anyway, Lafayette goes on to acquire a loyal steed in the form of a friendly dinosaur, and finally meets the ogre. The ogre has a very strange brother indeed. After an unexpected scene of bloody violence in such a lighthearted story, Lafayette returns to the palace. He meets an old rival, learns the truth about the king's mysterious wizard, saves the princess, discovers who was behind her kidnapping, finds out about his own special background, and gets the girl (although maybe not in the way you'd expect.)

The whole thing moves at a furious, breakneck pace, so that you don't realize it doesn't always make a whole lot of sense. Lafayette's ability to change reality, for example, seems to come and go, depending on how the author needs to propel the plot. There's a scientific explanation, of sorts, from the so-called wizard about what's really going on, but it might as well just be pure magic. It's entertaining enough to keep you reading, but hardly substantial.

Three stars.

Keep Out, by Fredric Brown


Cover art by Clarence Doore.

The March 1954 issue of Amazing Stories supplies this brief tale, from a master of the short-short story.


Illustration by John Schoenherr.

From birth, a group of people are bred to survive on the surface of Mars. The narrator is one of these folks, and reveals their plans.

Some of Brown's tiny tales are masterpieces of a very difficult form. This one is not. I saw the twist ending coming. Maybe you will, too.

Two stars.

The People of the Pit, by A. Merritt


I have been unable to find out who drew this cover.

We jump back to the January 5, 1918 issue of All-Story Weekly for yet another yarn about danger from the remote past. It was reprinted in the March 1927 issue of Amazing Stories.


Cover art by Frank R. Paul.

Some folks head for a remote part of the Arctic in search of gold. A man who is nearly dead crawls to their campsite and relates his strange story.

It seems that there is an immense pit, bigger than the Grand Canyon, beyond a chain of mountains. Not only that, but a gigantic set of stairs, carved in the remote past, leads down into it.

The fellow descends into the pit, and encounters bizarre beings who enslave him. He tells how he finally escaped, and managed to crawl his way back up to the surface.


Illustration by Martin Gambee.

This story reminds me of H. P. Lovecraft, with its unimaginably old structures and creatures who are almost beyond the ability of the human mind to conceive. Given the original date of publication, I presume Lovecraft was influenced by it. The author creates a genuine sense of weirdness and menace. The old-fashioned use of a narrative-within-a-narrative slows things down a bit, and it's mostly description rather than plot, but it's not bad at all.

Three stars.

Your Soul Comes C.O.D., by Mack Reynolds


Cover art by Leo Summers and Ed Valigursky.

Once you get beyond the face of Joseph Stalin on the front of the March 1952 issue of Fantastic Adventures, you'll find the original appearance of this variation on a very old theme.


Illustration by Leo Summers.

A guy intends to summon a demon in order to exchange his soul for a good life. Before he can even perform the necessary ritual, however, a being appears, ready to make a deal. The man gains forty years of true love, prosperity, and a happy family. When it comes time to pay the price, he finds out what he bargained for.

A story like this depends entirely on the twist in the tail. I have to admit that the author took me by surprise and came up with a new version of the sell-your-soul premise.

Three stars.

How Did You Enjoy Today's Grammar Lesson?

Example of the past imperfect: I was reading Fantastic magazine yesterday.

Example of the future tense: I will finish this article today.

Well, that may not be the best way to study the structure of English, but it gives me something to think about while I sum up my feelings about this issue. For the most part, it was pretty good. Only the Fredric Brown reprint was disappointing, because I expected more from him. There was a good old story, and a good new story. The rest of the stuff was decent filler.

If you don't care for the way I'm acting like a language instructor, maybe you'd prefer something a little more technologically advanced.


Don't blame me if you don't like math.

The Journey is once again up for a Best Fanzine Hugo nomination — and its founder is up for several other awards as well! If you've got a Worldcon membership, or if you just want to see what Gideon's done that's Hugo-worthy, please read his Hugo Eligibility article! Thank you for your continued support.




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Book

[February 10, 1966] Within and without (Isaac Asimov's Fantastic Voyage and Samuel R. Delany's Empire Star)

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[This month's first Galactoscope features an esteemed pair of science fiction novels.  The first is by one of the genre's most accomplished veterans, the other by one of its newest and brightest lights…]


by Gideon Marcus

Fantastic Voyage, by Isaac Asimov

A defector from beyond the Iron Curtain lies dying on the operating table, a terrible secret in his brain.  Only an operation from the inside has any chance of success.  Thus begins a fantastic voyage in which five souls in a midget submarine are miniaturized and injected into the patient.  Their destination: the blood clot that threatens the defecting scientist's mind.

A myriad of biological wonders and horrors awaits the team, from antibodies to circulatory typhoons.  But even more dangerous to the mission is the possibility of a saboteur on board.  Is it Owens, pilot and designer of the Proteus?  Duval, the brilliant but antisocial surgeon?  His expert laser technician assistant, Peterson? The cartographer of the circulatory system, Michaels?  Or could it be Grant, the agent dispatched to watch the other four?

And can the saboteur be stopped before the miniaturization wears off, killing the patient and potentially the crew?

Voyage marks the author's return to novel-length fiction after a nearly a decade.  The circumstances are unusual; I understand the book is actually a novelization of a movie script, though unusually, the movie is not due out for many months.  Dr. A is, of course, a great choice for the job.  With his chemistry and general scientific background, he renders just plausible what will likely be enjoyable folderol on the screen.  He combines a vivid depiction of the inside of the human body with his usual competent pacing and plotting.  And as an old hand at mysteries (he essentially invented the still meager science fiction/mystery hybrid genre), he does a good job turning a science fiction adventure into a whodunnit.

I suspect what I don't like about the book mostly derives from the original script.  I found a lot of the action sequences a bit tedious.  Frankly, I might have been happier with a book that was just a guided tour of the human body from within, so deft is the Good Doctor with his nonfiction writing.  I also found Grant's incessant pursuit of Ms. Peterson (first name, Cora, like our esteemed fellow traveler) annoying — just let her do her job, man!  Also, only two thirds of the book are devoted to the actual voyage, insertion not taking place until page 70.  The build-up to the action feels a bit drawn out.

Nevertheless, it's a fine book and it's great to see Asimov flexing his fictional muscles again.

Three and a half stars.

Empire Star, by Samuel R. Delany


by John Boston

Samuel R. Delany has been quietly pumping out Ace paperbacks for a while, building a reputation from the bottom up.  He’s up to six now with the newest, Empire Star, and I thought I’d better pay some attention. 


by Jack Gaughan

Empire Star is your basic unprepossessing—actually, pretty ugly—half of an Ace Double, just under 100 pages, with generically goofy blurb: "He warped time and space to deliver a message to eternity."  But open it up and it features epigraphs from Proust and W.H. Auden (a first for Ace, I'm sure), and then introduces us to Comet Jo.  What?  Is this the new Captain Future?

Fortunately not.  Comet Jo is a yokel, galactically speaking, living on a satellite (of what, it’s not clear) in the Tau Ceti system.  He’s physically graceful, with claws on one hand, and his hair is long and either wheat-colored or yellow depending on which paragraph you’re reading.  He carries an ocarina wherever he goes.  He works tending the underground fields of plyasil, more crudely known as jhup, “an organic plastic that grows in the flower of a mutant strain of grain that only blooms with the radiation that comes from the heart of Rhys in the darkness of the caves.” He got his nickname wandering away from home to look at the stars.

One day Comet Jo hears a menacing noise, sees a devil-kitten (eight legs, three horns, hisses when upset) which leads him to where “green slop frothed and flamed,” with writhing, dying figures visible in it.  One of them breaks out—Comet Jo’s double—and tells him he needs to take a message to Empire Star, but dies before he can say what the message is.  The kitten rescues a small object from the now-cooled and evaporating puddle.  This is Jewel—“multicolored, multifaceted, multiplexed, and me”—i.e., the narrator, who we later learn is a “crystallized Tritovian.” Say what?  High-powered miniature computer with a personality—at least that will do.

So Comet Jo (hereinafter denominated “CJ”) goes to the spaceport the next morning to head for Empire Star, which he knows nothing about, to deliver a message he doesn’t have.  This farmhand gets hired on the spot to work on a spaceship, no questions asked.  On the way he encounters the strikingly dressed San Severina, who tells him he’s a beautiful boy but he needs to comb his hair, gives him a comb, and offers him diction lessons.  She proves to be the owner of the ship he’s working on, and of the seven Lll aboard—sentient slaves who are great builders and project their emotions of great sadness to anyone who gets close to them.  Owning these slaves is not a lot of fun.

Why not free them?  “Economics.” San Severina explains that after a war she has “eight worlds, fifty-two civilizations, and thirty-two thousand three hundred and fifty-seven complete and distinct ethical systems to rebuild,” and can’t do it without the enslaved Lll.  She also tells CJ he has a long journey ahead and has a message to deliver quite precisely.  How she knows this is not explained, and CJ still doesn’t know what the message is.  This is one of many incidents in which the people CJ encounters seem to know more about his mission than he does.

During these events, and later, CJ is told that he and his culture are simplex, as opposed to complex and multiplex, terms which are tossed around throughout the book without being defined very precisely.  (Where is A.E. van Vogt when you need him?  Never mind, forget I said it.) We are told that multiplex means being able to see things from different points of view, and also it seems to have something to do with pattern recognition.  Also the multiplex ask questions when they need to.  It certainly means becoming more mentally capable.  A big part of the story is CJ’s getting more plexy with experience. 

San Severina leaves him on Earth on his own, but advises him to “find the Lump.” Say what?  Only clue is it’s “not a people.” The Lump—which turns out to be a linguistic ubiquitous multi-plex, also part Lll, in the guise of a portly man named Oscar—finds him.  They set out in separate spaceships, but CJ quickly bumps into something—the Geodetic Survey Station, whose occupants are up to volume 167, Bba to Bbaab—and narrowly escapes the wrath of a comical and homicidal pedant.  At their destination, in orbit around the inhospitable planet Tantamount, CJ and Oscar encounter the poet Ni Ty Lee, who discloses that he worked on Rhys in the jhup fields before, and also played the ocarina once, which mightily disturbs CJ, and leads into a disquisition by the Lump on the works of Theodore Sturgeon, four thousand years gone by the time of the story.  Ni Ty Lee discloses more things he has done before CJ, including hanging out with San Severina, and CJ gets even more upset.  Ni isn’t happy either; he exclaims, “Always returning, always coming back, always the same things over and over and over!” Hint, in neon!

Enough synopsis.  The book continues in similar style.  It should be clear by now that large parts of this story make very little sense, starting with CJ’s determination to leave his farm job and head for the galactic capital with a yet-nonexistent message, because he was told to do so under the most bizarre and alarming circumstances.  But that’s OK because it’s not really a story in the usual sense.  Rather, it’s a story about a story, or about Story, or about the author moving game pieces about a board, each piece decorated with a piece of the stock imagery of pulp SF.  (Towards the end there’s even a Prince leading a spaceborne army to take over Empire Star, and the heiress to the throne struggling to thwart him.) Maybe it’s better described as a confection.  There is of course a revelation at the end that purports to rationalize everything, and does to some extent, but it’s almost beside the point.

My patience for this sort of construct is generally limited, but Empire Star is extremely well done.  It’s enormously clever, with many pleasing and colorful displays along the way; there’s much more detail and incident than the foregoing half-synopsis hints, even if much remains unexplained or implausible.  Enormous cleverness colorfully rendered is never to be sneezed at.  Four stars.

[Note: We will have to read Tom Purdom's The Tree Lord of Imeton to finish this Ace Double, and also because, well, it's Tom Purdom! Stay tuned…(ed.)]

The Journey is once again up for a Best Fanzine Hugo nomination — and its founder is up for several other awards as well!  If you've got a Worldcon membership, or if you just want to see what Gideon's done that's Hugo-worthy, please read his Hugo Eligibility article!  Thank you for your continued support.




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Fashion, music, politics, sports, Magazine, Science Fiction/Fantasy, Serial

[February 8, 1966] Feeling A Draft (March 1966 IF)

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by David Levinson

Dodging the issue

Conscription has been part of American military planning for a little over a century, and it’s never been popular. From the draft riots of the Civil War to young men burning their draft cards today, there has always been resistance. During the Civil War, wealthy men could hire substitutes to go in their stead, and during the First World War, selection was done by local draft boards, which were subject to local pressure and tended to draft the poor. The interwar period saw the introduction of the lottery system in an effort to overcome the inequities of the past, and, with a brief return to local draft boards during World War Two, it has persisted to today.

On January 6th, the Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee became the first Black civil rights organization to come out against the draft, citing the lack of freedom at home for so many and the fact that Blacks are over-represented. This statement gave the Georgia House of Representatives an excuse to refuse seating the newly elected Julian Bond. Mr. Bond is one of the founders of the SNCC and endorsed the statement issued by the group. He is probably also the most visible of the eleven Black men recently elected to the Georgia House. The claim was that by endorsing the opposition to the war and the draft, he could not swear to uphold the constitution of the United States.


Julian Bond outside the Georgia House. What possible objection could they have to him?

A long tradition

It is timely that, amid the draft protest furor, January 27th saw the death of Grover Cleveland Bergdoll, once known as America’s most notorious draft dodger (or 'slacker' as they were called during and after WWI). The scion of a wealthy Philadelphia brewing family, he enjoyed a playboy lifestyle before the war. He drove race cars and was one of the first people to learn to fly, even owning a Wright Model B. He registered for the draft, but failed to appear for a physical and was declared a deserter. He managed to stay on the run for two years, but was finally arrested in 1920 in his family home, with his mother waving a gun and threatening the authorities. Sentenced to five years, Bergdoll was released under guard to recover an alleged cache of gold, but he escaped and eventually made his way to Germany. There were two attempts to kidnap him, both ending disastrously for the would-be kidnappers. He married a German woman and settled down, though he made two extended trips back to America. He returned to the States for good with his family in 1939. Sentenced to serve the rest of his original term and an additional three years, he left prison in 1944 and moved to Virginia. He died of pneumonia, aged 72. He is survived by his ex-wife and eight children.


Bergdoll’s original wanted poster.

The issue at hand

In the theme of this heightened era of military involvement (and lack thereof) this month’s IF plays host to several seasoned veterans, as well as the monthly new recruit. The stories range in quality from 1-A to not quite 4-F. The cover is even given to a story about a draft dodger, though one not one tenth as interesting as Grover Bergdoll.


A drab cover for a drab story. Art by Hector Castellon

The Long Way to Earth, by John Brunner

Kynance Foy has a problem. Armed with a degree in qua-space physics and an encyclopedic knowledge of interstellar commerce and law, she left Earth for the outer worlds to make her fortune. But the farther out she has gone, the harder it is for a Terran to find employment, and now she can’t even scrape up the price of a ticket home. Which is why the prospect of a job that pays nearly five times the going annual wage and offers repatriation at the end of the contract it too good to pass up. The catch is that she has to spend a year as the only person on a remote planet.

The man in charge of the project is only too happy to give her the job after she rebuffs his crude advances. It’s only on arrival that she discovers just how easy it is to breach her contract and be denied so much as passage off the planet, as has happened to every other person to hold the job. When a handful of her predecessors turn up, she knows that so much as acknowledging their existence will terminate her contract, but Kynance has a plan.


Executive Shuster is about to get the surprise of his life. Art by Adkins

This is a solid story: Brunner at his best writing a more traditional tale. Which is not quite as good as Brunner at his best when writing a more modern tale, but still good. Kudos for a woman protagonist who, while beautiful, gets by on her brains and is an active, driving force of the narrative. Three stars.

Ouled Nail, by H. H. Hollis

Our unnamed narrator runs into rocket jockey Gallegher in a New York bar. Galllegher works the Earth-Mars run, where a man spends months alone between planets and can go more than a little stir-crazy. He launches into a long tale of his friend Pick Pratt, who seems to have come up with a way to help spacers get over their stress.

Hollis is this month’s first time writer. This is something of a stereotypical science fiction bar tale, but I can’t say I enjoyed it much. Gallegher is an obnoxious narrator and the conclusion has holes you could fly a fleet of spaceships through. The Ouled Nail of the title are an Algerian tribe known for sending out their women to work as dancers and courtesans in the oases and towns near where they live. I had not heard of them before, so the best thing I can say for this story is that it sent me to the library to learn something. Two stars.

Dam Nuisance, by Keith Laumer

Retief is back. This time out, the CDT is supporting South Skweem, while the Groaci are backing North Skweem. Ambassador Treadwater is trying to come up with a grand public works project, but policy says it can’t be useful. Meanwhile, the Groaci are building a dam for North Skweem, one which is causing a drought in half of South Skweem and flooding the other half. To top things off Ben Magnan has disappeared while paying a courtesy call to the Groaci mission. As usual, it’s up to Retief to put everything to rights.


The differences are apparent to any right-thinking diplomat. Art by Gaughan

Even I am beginning to grow weary of Retief. Like a song that plays every single time you turn on the radio, it doesn’t matter how good it might be, it’s getting old. The worst part is the wasted opportunity. Laumer is clearly drawing on the situation in South-east Asia, with a bit of the Aswan Dam thrown in. That’s a set-up for biting satire – which we know he’s capable of writing – but instead we get a retread. Someone who’s never read a Retief story might enjoy this, but regular readers can only sigh over what might have been. A very low three stars.

Draft Dodger, by Kenneth Bulmer

Hugo Lack has received his call-up notice to the Terran Space Navy. Desperate to avoid serving, he visits draft-dodging facilitator Jerky Jones, but about the only thing he can afford is an irreversible lobotomy. Lack is soon scooped up by the Navy and enters a dream-like, almost fugue state that sees him through boot camp and deployment. He winds up in the quartermaster corps in an out-of-the-way base, but one day the war comes to him.

What a dull, dull story. It’s not terribly engaging to begin with, but when Hugo enters his sleepwalking state, the narrative voice follows him. Bulmer is trying to say something about the way the military creates heroes and the ungrateful people back home, but mostly he perpetuates the idea that the only reason someone might not want to “do his duty” is cowardice. Two stars.

The Moon Is a Harsh Mistress (Part 4 of 5), by Robert A. Heinlein

Revolution has come to the Moon, and now it’s time for someone to travel to Earth and make the case for independence. After a harrowing journey in a cargo pod, Mannie and Prof arrive in India. They spend some time appearing before a supposedly new UN committee, but which is actually the committee overseeing the Lunar Authority. During an extended break, they go on a whirlwind tour of the Earth, with Mannie using ploys developed by Mike and Prof to drive wedges between various factions. Returning to India, they are presented a plan from the committee to turn all free Loonies (some 90% of the population) into client-employees. If they don’t like it, they can be repatriated to Earth, where most of them have never been and none can live comfortably.

As the situation turns bad, Mannie and Prof make their escape, assisted by Stu and return to the Moon. The events of the trip make excellent propaganda to fire up the people, and there is now a duly elected government in place. With a bit of manipulation, Prof winds up as Prime Minister and Secretary of State, Wyoh is Speaker pro tem and Mannie is Minister of Defense. An embargo is imposed on the shipment of grain Earthside and a grain pod is fired at an unpopulated part of the Sahara to show that the Moon can defend itself. And then Earth invades. Troop ships sent on long orbits come in from the back of the Moon where Mike can’t see them. War has come to the Moon. To be concluded.


The Earth strikes back! Art by Morrow

Heinlein continues to excel. We get what is probably the most action we’ve seen, with the promise of more next time, but most of the story is committee meetings, back-room deals and political wrangling. And it’s still compelling! We do get one bit of pure Heinleinian didacticism when Prof trots out a parable of a man whose job is polishing the brass cannon on the courthouse lawn and one day quits his job, sells everything he has and buys his own cannon to go into business for himself. I understand Heinlein wanted to call this book The Brass Cannon. Fortunately, he was talked out of it. Anyway, four stars and I eagerly await the conclusion.

Summing Up

Once again, Heinlein shines out brightly. A couple of Journey writers have noted that there are two John Brunners: the exciting New Wave writer and the conventional writer for the American market. He’s managed to bridge the gap slightly this time, though he's still much closer to the second Brunner than the first. After that, it’s Laumer going through the motions and some sub-par filler. I have to say, that doesn’t fill me with a lot of confidence about what happens once the current serial ends.


This seems like an unusual pairing, but it’s nice to see the return of Rosel Brown.




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Science / Space Race

[February 6, 1966] Hello, Stranger (exploring Space in Winter 65/66)

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You don't want to miss today's Journey Show!  In this first episode of the new season, we'll be talking about comics: Marvel, DC, British, European — and we'll also be discussing the new Batman show.  Y'all come!


by Gideon Marcus

It seems like a mighty long time…

Looming huge on the horizon, shining brightly at zenith, one would imagine that visiting the Moon wouldn't be all that difficult.  But making the 400,000+ kilometer trek has proved one of the hardest feats for humanity to tackle.  Just reaching the vicinity of the Moon took four Pioneers and who knows how many secret Mechtas.  And while the Soviets managed to hit the Moon in 1959 with Luna 2, the United States went through four Pioneer Ables and three Rangers before duplicating the feat in 1962.  It wasn't until last year's Ranger 7 that we managed a fully successful TV crashlanding mission.

But despite early successes, the real heartbreak kings have been the Soviets.  Since their spectacular Luna 3 mission in 1959, which was the first to return pictures from the Far Side, the Russians have failed in at least four attempts over the past year to soft-land on the Moon.

That all changed on February 3, 1966, when Luna 9 settled gently onto Oceanus Procellarum and returned the first pictures from the lunar surface.

Luna 9 was launched on January 31 amid the typical TASS fanfare.  After the prior failures, it was hard to get too excited until the vehicle actually reached the Moon.  Even then, we in the West had to find out about its success second-hand at first.  The Russians are notoriously mum about their missions until it is certain that they worked (or that news of a failure can be properly massaged).

Luckily, the good folks at Britain's Jodrell Bank radio observatory were able to intercept Luna 9's transmissions, thus giving us a pretty good idea of its timeline.  The U.S. Army also listened in on Luna 9's whole trip, though this fact wasn't broadcast initially. 

Per TASS, we know that the spacecraft began its landing sequence about an hour before landing at 1:45 PM EST.  Jodrell Bank confirms that Luna 9 broadcast a stream of pictures for the next 20 minutes followed by a second transmission at 9:00 PM. 

And this is what Luna 9 saw:

In addition to the engineering triumph that the Luna 9 mission represents, it also yielded a bonanza of scientific information.  For instance, we now know that the Moon is not covered by a dangerous quicksand of dust, which was a big concern for the Apollo people.  Luna 9 has also returned valuable cosmic ray data.

Luna 9's chief success, however, has been nationalistic.  After the two Voskhod flights, the Soviets watched helplessly as our Gemini program surpassed their accomplishments by leaps and bounds.  For the moment, the Soviets are once again ahead in at least one aspect of the Space Race.

At least until Surveyor 1 lands in May…

I got my eyes on you

The Moon hasn't been the only Soviet target these past two months. Since December 10, they have launched six "Kosmos" class satellites, almost all of which likely been photographic surveillance craft like our Discoverer series (which we have continued to launch consistently every couple of weeks).  We can tell this from the angle of their orbit, designed to maximize coverage of the West, and the fact that they land in Russia after about a week in space.  Certainly, these "scientific" probes don't seem to return much data — I think Kosmos 41 was the last with any results published in any of the journals I follow, and it was launched in August 1964.

Stormy weather

The same day Luna 9 stunned the world with its pictures, the United States launched a quieter but no less momentous shutterbug of its own.  ESSA 1, also known as TIROS 11, marked the beginning of a new era of weather forecasting.  The prior TIROS satellites were all experimental, despite their unquestioned contribution to our daily forecasts.  The new TIROS is not only better able to provide instant global weather pictures to any station in view at any time from its 700km altitude, it is the first to be managed by the new Environmental Science Services Administration. 

From test product to fundamental government equipment in six years.  Not bad!

The Sun is Shining

Completing the exploration of the Earth/Moon/Sun trinity is Pioneer 6, launched December 16, 1965.  In the tradition of Pioneer 5, Pioneer 6 is a truly interplanetary probe.  Its mission is not to encounter any other celestial bodies but to instead be a solar weather station in an orbit somewhere between that of Earth's and Venus'. 

Its six instruments have been diligently recording long term data on radiation and magnetic conditions out in deep space, thus far reporting that the "solar wind" blows at about 1,000,000 km/h during quiet periods as opposed to three times as much in active times.  The solar magnetic field appears comparatively unfluctuating, accompanied by a relatively low number of charged particles.

Pioneer 6 is the first of five such interplanetary probes planned for launch over the next few years. 

1-2-3

Our last piece of news covers the multiple launch of December 21.  The Air Force has been testing its mighty Titan IIIC, which remains the world's most powerful rocket until such time as the Saturn 1B takes off later this month.  Since science abhors a vacuum, space aboard the mighty booster was used to launch four satellites into orbit at the same time.

These satellites were OV2-3, a radiation studies probe; LES-3 and 4, communications test satellites; and OSCAR 4, a relay broadcaster designed to be used by amateur "ham" radio enthusiasts.  All of these satellites were supposed to be placed in 35,000 km high geosynchronous orbits, circling the Earth about once every day such that they appeared to remain roughly fixed in the sky.  Unfortunately, while the Titan delivered the satellites into a geosynchronous transfer orbit, a final burn never happened.  The four vehicles are thus trapped in a highly eccentric path that zooms up to 30,000 km while retaining an Earth-grazing 170km perigee.

Moreover, OV2-3 never switched on.  LES-3 and 4 appear to work, however, doing top secret work offering data on communications in the UHF and SHF bands.  OSCAR 4 has been less successful, only being used for 12 transmissions; one of them was the first ever satellite-relayed conversation between the United States and the USSR, however!

Man oh man

The space-related excitment won't stop anytime soon.  On February 20, we'll see our first real Apollo mission when the new Saturn 1B launches a full Apollo CSM on a suborbital flight.  And in March, we'll likely see our first docking in space when Gemini 8 goes up. 

Science fiction made real, indeed!




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Science Fiction/Fantasy, TV

[February 4 1966] What A Waste. What A Terrible Waste. (Doctor Who: The Daleks' Master Plan [Part 3])

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By Jessica Holmes

There were times watching this serial when I began to wonder if I would ever be free. I began to fear that long after all has come to dust and the cockroaches inherit the Earth, I’ll still be there, sat in the rubble, praying for the Daleks to get on with it and put me out of my misery.

You might say I’m being overdramatic, and perhaps I am, but I can say with sincerity that I’m thankful this is the last article I have to write for this one serial.

GOLDEN DEATH

The Daleks in their time machine track the Doctor to the Old Kingdom of ancient Egypt, where he’s busy fiddling with the lock on his TARDIS, thinking that the Monk is still on his tail.

Steven notices the Dalek ship arrive at the building site of the Pyramids, and together with Sara goes to investigate. Unbeknownst to them, an Egyptian slave spots their coming, and hurries off to report it to his overseer.

The Doctor’s companions soon realise that it’s not the Monk who has just landed here, but the Daleks. They’re on their way to warn the Doctor when a gang of heavily-armed Egyptian soldiers ambush them.

The soldiers then attempt to accost the Daleks too, but bronze spears and bare chests are no match for ray-guns and armoured plating. The Daleks slaughter most of the soldiers, a small few managing to retreat and regroup.

Meanwhile, the Doctor finishes his repair work, puts on a stupid hat, and indulges in some sight-seeing. It’s not every day you get to see an ancient wonder under construction. He hears the familiar sound of a landing TARDIS, and sure enough out steps the Monk sporting a fashionable pair of sunglasses.

The Doctor then realises that if the Monk has only just landed, then the earlier landing must have been the Daleks!

The Egyptian guards tie Steven and Sara up in a hut, and then make the foolish decision to leave only one soldier to guard them while they go off to do something else.

Meanwhile the Monk to his displeasure comes upon the Daleks. It’s only by Mavic Chen’s intervention that the Daleks don’t immediately shoot him. Unlike the Daleks, Chen’s smart enough to notice that the Monk isn't local.

Chen presses the Monk for information, and the Monk tells him that he’s here to exact vengeance on the Doctor. With their interests aligned, Chen asks the Monk to gain the Doctor’s confidence and retrieve the Taranium core. The Monk agrees, though he doesn’t seem too eager about it.

While all that’s been going on, the Egyptian slaves have been stuffing Pharoah’s tomb full of treasures. The usual stuff like gold, jewels, fancy furniture, a certain police box…

The Monk starts searching for the Doctor, but he won’t find him anywhere near his TARDIS. No, the Doctor is playing mischief with the Monk’s ship. He strips out an important-looking component, and also fiddles with the ship’s cloaking device to make it look like a police box. It’s partly to confuse the Daleks, but I like to think that it’s mostly just because it’s funny to mess with the Monk.

Sara manages to untie herself and Steven, and they take the guards by surprise. Steven's impressed with how good Sara is in a fight. Well, I should hope so, given that killing people was basically her job for much of her life.

The Doctor confronts the Monk in Pharoah’s tomb, and the Monk ‘warns’ the Doctor about the Daleks, urging him to hand over the Taranium before someone gets hurt. The Doctor responds only with a laugh as he advances on him.

Steven and Sara arrive some time later to find no sign of the Doctor. As they wonder what has become of him, a nearby sarcophagus slides open, and a figure wrapped in cloth begins to emerge…

ESCAPE SWITCH

Steven and Sara look on in amazement as a groaning figure emerges from the great stone coffin. Is it the mummy’s curse? Nah, it’s the Monk!

But if he’s here, where’s the Doctor?

Steven and Sara help the Monk out of his wrappings as he claims that he was only trying to warn the Doctor. Oh, and he’s coming down with a bit of a headache, so if Steven could just open the TARDIS door for him that would be very much appreciated. Steven wasn’t born yesterday, so they take the Monk with them to look for the Doctor.

Rather than the Doctor, they end up finding Chen and the Daleks. The Monk wastes no time turning his coat once again and offering Steven and Sara as hostages to draw the Doctor in.

Meanwhile, the Egyptians realise their prisoners have gone missing, but can’t go after them without risking the war machines.

On the Dalek ship with Steven and Sara, the Monk explains to the irate pair that he didn’t actually betray them. The Daleks were about to kill them all, so the Monk offering them as hostages kept them alive for just a few more minutes. It’s certainly plausible, but I can’t blame Steven and Sara for not wanting to trust him as far as they could throw him.

Chen broadcasts an ultimatum from the Dalek ship, ordering the Doctor to come running pronto with the Taranium, or else.

Left with no choice, the Doctor comes to meet the Daleks, and sets up a rendezvous where he’ll hand over the core in exchange for the release of all prisoners, including the Monk. One Dalek only, no bloodshed needed. Of course the Daleks are bad at following instructions as several turn up to the meeting.

However, the Egyptians, having also heard the message, have plans of their own.

The Doctor insists the prisoners be set free first, to which the Daleks agree. He then hands the Taranium over to Chen, running for cover just as the Egyptians attack the Daleks from behind. You can’t fault them for bravery, I suppose.

It doesn’t go brilliantly for the Egyptians, but they do manage to trap one Dalek and encase it in bricks, and the whole stunt creates enough of a distraction for the Doctor and his companions to slip away and regroup. They’ve lost the Taranium core, but on the plus side the Doctor stole the directional unit from the Monk’s TARDIS, so they have a chance of getting back to Kembel and stopping the Daleks once and for all.

The Monk gets back to his own TARDIS, getting safely away from the Daleks. Good for him, he’s much too fun to kill off. He does end up stranded in some frozen wasteland though, so I doubt we'll be seeing him any time soon.

The Daleks are initially frothing at the mouth to catch the Doctor, but Chen points out to the short-tempered tin cans that they have what they came to get.

The Doctor installs the stolen component to his own TARDIS, unsure if it will work, as the Monk has a more up-to-date model. Still, it’s the best chance they have, so he bids Steven to throw the switch–

And the control room vanishes in a flash of blinding white light.

THE ABANDONED PLANET

The Daleks return victorious to Kembel, accompanied by an insufferably smug Chen. The Doctor meanwhile fears that the directional unit has failed to get them where they need to go.  We’re spared a plot derailment by the realisation that the view outside looks an awful lot like Kembel, so it would seem they made it after all.

Imagine how much longer this serial would be if they hadn’t. It’d probably be another three episodes at least.

Now for the most exciting thing in the world: a cabinet meeting! The Galactic Council convenes to have a good natter and complain and grumble at each other. They note the absence of Chen and are about to kick him out of the Evil Aliens Club when he swans in acting like he’s the best thing since sliced bread. His Imperial Smugness proceeds to be so insufferable that the gang are on the verge of tearing him apart with their bare hands/claws/tentacles. Then he shoots one of them dead. Not the best way to make friends, I’d have thought.

Outside, Steven and Sara traverse the jungle, noting that there don’t seem to be any Varga plants around, and no Daleks either for that matter. Where could they have disappeared to?

Chen manages to get the Council to sit down and shut up, and they’re about to start discussing the matter of sharing power after the invasion (bit last-minute to be discussing that, I would have thought) when the Daleks show up and spoil the party.

Steven and Sara double back to the TARDIS, but the Doctor’s nowhere to be found. They go back again to look for the Dalek city. Well, that was a bit pointless.

The Daleks have taken the Council into custody, and are planning to destroy the city as they start their conquest. I’m not really sure why. If they want the Council dead they could just shoot them. They’re in a cell; it’d be like shooting rats in a bucket. Not that I’d ever do that, of course. I like rats.

Steven and Sara find the city apparently abandoned. They manage to just walk right in all the way to the central control room where the Dalek time machine sits unattended. Thinking that the Daleks must have the Doctor, they plan to commandeer the machine (never mind that they can’t work the thing) and use it as leverage to get him back. However, their message reaches not the Daleks, but the imprisoned Council. It took them a while to find a scrap of moral backbone, but by the time Steven and Sara reach them they’re eager to mobilise against the Daleks and defend their galaxies.

Steven and Sara agree to release them, and they all scurry off as fast as their spaceships can carry them, all except for one… Chen. They’re wondering what’s taking him so long when his ship blows up shortly after takeoff.

I was ready to throw a brick through the television at this point. I was not going to let them kill Chen without me even getting to see the look on his face.

With Chen apparently out of the picture and the Doctor nowhere to be found, it’s up to Steven and Sara to find a way to stop the Daleks. They spot a lone Dalek entering an underground tunnel, and are about to go after it when Chen shows up alive and well and carrying a gun.

Still planning on being the master of the universe, Chen orders Steven and Sara into the underground base.

DESTRUCTION OF TIME

Chen reveals to Steven that he too came back to find the Doctor. Not out of any sense of altruism, mind you. He believes the Doctor seeks to usurp Chen’s position with the Daleks. Chen, they threw you in a cell. You don’t have a position with the Daleks any more.

They get themselves taken prisoner very quickly.  Unlike the above ground city, the underground base is very much occupied. Because he hasn’t realised that to the Daleks he’s nothing more than a useful idiot, Chen gets his knickers in a twist because these are HIS prisoners. Apparently humouring him, the Daleks tell Chen to escort ‘his’ prisoners to the Dalek Supreme.

In a move that comes as a shock only to Chen, the Dalek Supreme states that their alliance has ended. When Chen gets it into his head to start ordering the Daleks around as if he himself was their leader, they completely ignore him. Growing desperate, he shoots at the Dalek Supreme. It doesn't work.

Finally realising how much trouble he’s in, Chen runs for his life, yelling some nonsense about being immortal. Guess the pressure finally got to him.

The Doctor finally turns up, emerging from the shadows like some film noir hero. He hands Steven the key to the TARDIS, urging him to take Sara there once he gives the signal. Why? He’s going to activate the Time Destructor.

The Daleks catch up to Mavic Chen and finally wipe the smug look off his face, shooting him dead and leaving his corpse in the corridor. They come back to find the Doctor tinkering with the Time Destructor, realising with horror that they can’t fire on him without destroying it.

Using a Dalek as a shield, the Doctor and his companions back towards the exit. Once they’re out, the Doctor tells Steven and Sara to run. Steven obeys without a second thought (gee, thanks) but Sara stops, unwilling to leave the Doctor to his fate.

Sara and the Doctor make their way to the TARDIS, carrying the activated Time Destructor, as the Daleks make their pursuit.

Steven makes it safely back, but the Time Destructor is taking its toll on the Doctor and Sara. In a matter of minutes, Sara appears to have aged several decades. The Doctor doesn’t seem to be as badly affected, but perhaps that’s because he is already fairly old.

Over the next few cuts, Sara looks older and older in each one, horrifyingly withering away before our eyes.

Severely weakened by the device, the Doctor drops it, and moments later the lush forest is reduced to a barren waste. Seeing the pair on the TARDIS scanner, Steven comes running out to help, but despite his efforts he cannot deactivate the Time Destructor. Nearby, he finds Sara’s skeletal remains, moments before they crumble away into dust.

Now that’s what I call scary! Where has THIS been all serial? Sure the Daleks can zap you and that’s not much fun but it doesn’t really evoke the true horror of the Time Destructor. It’s an awesome superweapon and I’m a bit disappointed it gets as little screen time as it does.

Somehow the Doctor is still alive, which leads me to wonder if he has a much longer natural lifespan than Sara. We know he’s technically an alien, because he isn’t from Earth, but how alien?

He’s not pleased to see Steven outside the TARDIS, and yells at him to get back in before he gets himself killed. Starting to feel better, the Doctor manages to return to the TARDIS, and is virtually back to normal once he makes it inside. However, outside the Time Destructor is still working its purpose, but time is no longer flowing faster than it should. It’s flowing backwards.

The Daleks catch up, and they too attempt to destroy the Time Destructor, to no avail, as it strips away their armour, aging them down, down, down until there’s nothing left but jellyfish-like Dalek embryos writhing in agony in the dust.

I should make a list of the most disturbing fates ever to befall a character on Doctor Who. This would go at the top, I think.

The device finally ceases to work, the Taranium core having burnt itself out. The Doctor and Steven emerge from the TARDIS to survey the damage. There’s absolutely nothing left outside. Alone in the desolate wastes, they mourn Sara, wishing that she could have seen the destruction of the Daleks. Steven is more than ready to leave, having made and then lost so many friends in this fight against the Daleks. Somberly, the Doctor agrees.

“What a waste. What a terrible waste.”

You said it, Doc.

Final Thoughts

We made it! The road was long and hard, and oh how we suffered. Well, I did most of the suffering. You just read about it.

Where do I even begin?

I think the most obvious thing to address is how ridiculously bloated this serial is. It desperately needed vast structural edits, and while I know television is made on a tight schedule, it would have been better to push the serial back to later in the series if it needed more time to fix. The plot meanders, doubles back on itself, and sometimes plain goes missing for whole episodes at a time. It suffocates under a pile of not-very-interesting subplots. Hordes of characters run around, and I can recall very few of their names, let alone any element of their personalities.

I can only describe it as a mess. I can’t even think of simple fixes for all this. If I was editing this, I would tear this whole story down to its very foundations and rebuild from there.

It irritates me, because I can see the skeleton of a potentially excellent story in here. There are some fun ideas and lots of potential for interesting twists and turns, but it’s all for naught.

It’s not that I do not enjoy a sprawling plot; I happen to be very fond of The Lord Of The Rings, and you don’t get much more sprawling than that. However, while those fantasy novels sprawl with purpose (for the most part), this story meanders about like a confused British tourist wandering a foreign grocery shop in search of teabags.

The other big problem is with the character development. This is a long serial. I will leave Steven and the Doctor alone, because they do seem changed by their experiences.

I am going to first pick on Sara. Here we have a woman who is so loyal to her superiors that she kills her own brother without question or remorse. Here is a woman who has been indoctrinated all her life to follow Chen. She is ruthless and deadly enough to have become the SSS’ top agent. Weighing all this in mind, does it sound like organic development to have her fully switch sides after one little scolding from some blokes she’s only just met? And a couple of episodes later, everyone, Sara included, seems to have forgotten about Bret.

Then there’s Mavic Chen. I’ve already covered the highly questionable makeup. For the most part, he was fine, if not terribly interesting. Great, he wants to rule the universe, him and every other B-movie villain out there. And then comes his decline. Well, I don’t think decline is the word. This isn’t a man spiraling as he desperately clings to power, it’s more like he swan-dives off the cliff of sanity.

Aside from that I don’t think there’s enough for me to chew on for me to talk about any other characters. There’s practically a revolving door of side-characters, of whom I can only remember Bret (who was pretty cool) and Katarina (who I definitely think was under-used). The Galactic Council seemed pointless to me. Chen was the only one among their number that the Daleks actually needed for access to the Taranium. I don’t know their names, and I couldn’t give a fig about it. They could have done with being cut from the serial entirely, or re-written to make them actually matter to the overall plot.

We’re not going to talk about the Christmas episode.

I think the Doctor sums it up best: it’s a waste. This serial could be so much better. I had high hopes after the unexpectedly dark and serious prologue episode Mission To The Unknown. I do admire the ambition and there’s a lot of creativity on display. Sadly, however, I think my favourite parts of the serial only came at the very end. I have a soft spot for the Monk (he’s just so much fun!), and the Time Destructor was awesome to behold. For the rest of the serial however I’m afraid that it rather fell short of my expectations.

At least you no longer have to listen to me moaning about it. We’ve got what looks to be a historical serial coming up next time, and I for one will be very glad for a change of pace.

2 out of 5 stars




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Fashion, music, politics, sports

[February 2, 1966] Death in the Fields: The Lufthansa Flight 005 Crash

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by Cora Buhlert

News accounts of plane crashes have become an almost monthly litany.  But it is not often that one finds themselves a first-hand witness to disaster.  Journeyer Cora Buhlert had that unfortunate opportunity last week…

Fields on Fire:

Bremen airport postcard
A postcard of Bremen Airport

On January 28, 1966, I was driving back from downtown Bremen to my home in the village of Seckenhausen just outside Bremen. It was a typical winter evening in North West Germany, rainy, stormy and cold with a low cloud cover and little visibility.

I was driving along the Kladdinger Straße, a meandering country road that connects the Bremen neighbourhood of Grolland to the village of Stuhr, and had the car radio on, because I was waiting for the seven PM news, which were about to start. The area in question is deserted at the best of times. It's mostly fields and meadows stretching along the shores of the river Ochtum as well as the tiny village of Kuhlen, really just a few farmhouses and a roadside inn. A bit further, beyond the river, lies the runway of Bremen airport. However on that night, this lonely stretch of road was surprisingly busy. People were standing outside the farmhouses of Kuhlen and the roadside inn in the pouring rain, all staring at something in the distance.

Puzzled, I drove onwards and quickly saw just what the people of Kuhlen were all staring at. Because just beyond the road, there loomed a wall of flame. An entire field was on fire and the flames had also engulfed an old barn by the roadside. However, it was winter, the field was barren and it was raining, so how could there possibly be such a huge fire?

Stuhr volunteer fire brigade
The Stihr volunteer fire brigade with its two engines.

I did not stop to investigate – it was a very big fire – but stepped down on the accelerator to get to the village of Stuhr and call the fire brigade from a public phonebox there. However, before I could make it to the village, I saw the engines of the Stuhr volunteer fire brigade coming towards me, sirens wailing. Those weren't the only fire engines I passed that night nor the only sirens I heard. It was as if every fire brigade in the entire county had been alerted. As happens so often, the sirens and fire engines also attracted spectators and so I saw several cars and people on bicycles heading towards the fire that I had been so eager to leave behind. Whatever had happened in that lonely field just off Kladdinger Straße, it must have been bad.

It was not until I got home and listened to the eight o'clock news that I learned what had happened. For it turned out that a Lufthansa plane en route from Frankfurt to Hamburg had crashed while attempting to land at Bremen airport just before seven PM, only minutes before I drove past the crash site.

Crash site map
A sketch of the crash site that appeared in the local newspaper.

Roaring engines and rattling windows:

Worried, I immediately called my aunt and uncle to check if they were okay. Because my aunt and uncle live in a house so close to the airport that they could wave at the plane passengers from their kitchen window, if they wanted to. To my relief, they were fine, but then they live on the other side of the airport from crash site. They also reported that their dinner at shortly before seven PM had been interrupted by the roar of a plane engine that was louder than usual, so loud in fact that the windows and doors and even the cups and saucers on the kitchen table rattled. Then the noise suddenly stopped for a heartbeat or two, before it was followed by a loud boom. And come to think of it, I had heard the same hollow boom a few minutes before I drove past the burning field.

Lufthansa 005 crash site
Chaos at the crash site.
Lufthansa 005 crash site
More chaos and fire at the crash site

By the following morning, I learned the sad truth. The crash of Lufthansa flight 005 from Frankfurt to Hamburg via Bremen had cost the lives of everybody on board, forty-two passengers and four crewmembers. Nine passengers were Italian, one was Dutch, one was American, the rest were West Germans. It is the fourth crash of a Lufthansa plane since the reestablishment of the airline in 1954 and the worst to date.

A Sequence of Unfortunate Events:

Lufthansa Convair CV-440 Metropolitan
The Lufthansa Convair CV-440 Metropolitan that crashed in Bremen photographed at Düsseldorf airport last year.

Now, four days on, we have at least a few clues regarding what caused the tragedy in the field just off the Kladdinger Straße. The eight-ear-old Convair CV-440 Metropolitan had entered its final approach to Bremen airport and everything seemed normal, in spite of the low visibility and heavy tail-wind. The cockpit windows may have been iced over as well. The fact that Bremen airport does not yet have a radar system and is not scheduled to be equipped with one until 1970 may have played a role as well.

Lufthansa 005 crash site aerial view
This aerial view of the Lufthansa flight 005 crash site shows the scale of the destruction.

However, once the plane emerged from the low cloud cover, Captain Heinz Saalfeld must have realised that he had overshot the runway, probably due to a defective instrument. He began a go-around manoeuvre only ten metres above the runway and tried to pull up the plane again, though he did not inform the traffic control tower of his intentions. The last time that the tower attempted to contact flight 005 was at 6:50 PM. One minute later, the aircraft crashed. Most likely, Captain Saalfeld and co-pilot Klaus Schadhoff pulled up the plane too quickly, so that the aircraft stalled and crashed into the field just off the runway.

Upon start in Frankfurt, the Convair 440 had been fully fuelled with 3200 litres of kerosine, much more than would have been necessary for the flight to Bremen or Hamburg. The reason for this was that because of the bad weather in North Germany, the pilots wanted to have enough fuel on board to reach an alternate airport in case landing in Bremen or Hamburg would not be possible. Upon impact, the remaining approximately 2500 litres of kerosine on board ignited, causing the massive fire I saw a few minutes later.

Lufthansa 005 crash site
Sifting through the wreckage of the Lufthansa flight 005 crash.

Scenes of Horror:

The airport fire brigade as well as several fire brigades from Bremen and the surrounding villages needed forty minutes to extinguish the flames. Once they did, they found themselves faced with scenes of pure horror.

My neighbour Heini Meier is a member of the Seckenhausen volunteer fire brigade, which was called in to help with the fire fighting and rescue efforts. Only to find that there was no chance of rescuing anybody, because everybody on board had died during impact.

Lufthansa flight 005 crash site
Sifting through the wreckage of the Lufthansa flight 005 crash.

Some of the first people on site, such as a group of teenagers celebrating a birthday in one of the nearby farmhouses and a man walking his dog along the river Ochtum reported that when they reached the crash site, they saw dead passengers still buckled into their seats.

However, by the time Heini Meier made it to the crash site with his fire engine – after being forced to chase spectators out of the way – there were no recognisable bodies left. He did wonder about gleaming spots on the ground in the stark glow of the searchlights. Only when the sun rose the next morning did he realise that he had been walking on charred bodies and that the gleaming he'd noticed in the dark was caused by the jewellery, watches and belt buckles of the dead reflecting the searchlights.

Sifting through the wreckage of the Lufthansa flight 005 crash
Sifting through the wreckage of the Lufthansa flight 005 crash.

By daylight, the sight was so horrible that even hardened veteran fire fighters who had lived through World War II were shocked. But the grim work was particularly hard on the young fire fighters and the teenaged volunteers of the West German federal disaster relief organisation THW who had been tasked with recovering the bodies. Even the ladies of the Delmenhorst Red Cross station who had been sent to Bremen to provide the helpers with coffee and sandwiches were not spared the horrible sights, because they had to pass through the makeshift morgue to deliver food to the helpers.

Body recovery Lufthansa flight 005
A grim task: Young volunteers of the West German federal disaster relief organisation THW recover the bodies of the victims of flight 005.
THW helpers relaxing
Three young THW volunteers are taking a well-deserved break from the grim work of body recovery.
Red Cross helpers
The ladies of the Delmenhorst Red Cross station kept the helpers supplied with coffee and sandwiches.

Because of the intense fire, the dead were burned almost beyond recognition and molten nylon from clothing and upholstering was fused to the bodies. Not all of the bodies were still in one piece either. Identifying all of the passengers and crew based on dental records and personal effects will still take weeks, if not longer.

The Victims of Flight 005

But even though many of the bodies have not yet been identified, we know who the people on board of flight 005 were. So here are the stories of some of them:

Pilot Heinz Saalfeld was 48 years old, an experienced veteran who had been a fighter pilot in World War II and had been flying for Lufthansa since 1957.

Co-pilot Klaus Schadhoff was 27 years old and only got his license last year. He trained at the Lufthansa flight school here in Bremen and was hoping to meet his fiancée during the stopover.

27-year-old Lufthansa stewardess Heide Bitterhof was not supposed to be on flight 005 at all. She only switched shifts at the last minute with a colleague who was suffering from a bad toothache.

Another Lufthansa stewardess, 23-year-old Maria Wolf was on leave and wanted to visit her family in the village of Brinkum, only three kilometres from where she died in the field off the Kladdinger Straße.

Ada Tschechowa
Ada Tschechowa in the 1930s.

49-year-old actress Ada Tschechowa was a film and theatre legend. Her mother was the German-Russian silent film star Olga Tschechowa, her great-uncle was none other than the great Russian playwright Anton Chekhov. Ada's daughter Vera has also joined the family business. She has been acting since her teens and even dated Elvis Presley for a while, much to the chagrin of her mother. Ada Tschechowa had largely retired from acting and worked as an agent. She only boarded flight 005 at the very last minute on a VIP ticket, because she wanted to visit her friend, actor Norbert Kappen who was shooting the TV-show Hafenpolizei (Harbour Police) in Bremen.

Ada Tschechowa and Elvis Presley
Ada Tschechowa pours Elvis Presley a glass of milk when he briefly dated her daughter Vera in 1958.
Ada Tschechowa and Elvia Presley
If you're going to date Ada Tschechowa's daughter, you'd better wear a tie, as Elvia Presley found out.

Dr. Hans Schröter, Bernhard Huber and Helmut Stiller were three managers of the AEG household goods and engine factory in Oldenburg. They were on their way back from a business trip.

Kurt Rosiefsky was a Bremen cotton merchant. He, too, was on his way back from a business trip.

41-year-old Friedrich-Karl von Zitzewitz was a member of an aristocratic family that can trace its lineage back to the 12th century. His father was involved in the resistance against the Third Reich and was arrested in connection with the failed assassination attempt on Hitler on July 20, 1944.

Dr. Karl Suchsland was a specialist in the field of material and production science who wrote a seminal paper about wood glue bonding. He was on his way home to Hamburg.

Italian victims of flight 005
The nine Italian victims of Lufthansa flight 005: swimmers Bruno Bianchi, Dino Rora, Sergio De Gregorio, Luciana Massenzi, Carmen Longo, Amedeo Chimisso and Daniela Samuele, coach Paolo Costoli and reporter Nico Sapio.

Also on board of flight 005 were seven members of the Italian national swim team as well as their coach Paolo Costoli and the Italian TV reporter Nico Sapio. The young Olympic hopefuls Bruno Bianchi, Dino Rora, Sergio De Gregorio, Luciana Massenzi, Carmen Longo, Amedeo Chimisso and Daniela Samuele were between 17 and 23 years old. The Italian swimming team was not supposed to be aboard flight 005 either. However, their flight from Milan to Frankfurt was delayed due to bad weather, so the team had to take a later flight.

The young Italian swimmers were supposed to compete in the 10th International Swim Festival at the Zentralbad in Bremen. The swimming competition did start two days later with a minute of silence for the dead and flowers placed upon the starting blocks. But the mood at the normally cheerful event was muted by the mourning for the Italian team and the other passengers of flight 005.

Zentralbad Bremen
The Bremen Zentralbad indoor pool, where the Italian swim team was supposed to take part in the 10th International Swim Fest.

Rumours, Suspicions and Speculations:

As always, when something terrible and unexplained happens, speculations were soon running high and the rumour mill was spinning in overdrive.

Did Captain Saalfeld suffer a heart attack during the failed go-around manoeuvre and is this why he did not reply to the hails of the tower?

What about the mysterious pliers that were found at the body of co-pilot Klaus Schadhoff? Was Schadhoff trying to carry out some last second repairs during a risky flight manoeuvre? And where did he get the pliers, since Lufthansa has confirmed that they were not part of the onboard tool kit?

Another persistent rumour is that the pliers belonged to one of the passengers and that this passenger stormed the cockpit and attacked the pilots during the final approach. After all, the body of co-pilot Klaus Schadhoff was found several metres away from Captain Saalfeld, entangled with the body of a still unidentified male passenger. Was Schadhoff engaged in a desperate struggle in those final few seconds of flight 005? Is this why neither Saalfeld nor Schadhoff responded to the hails of the tower?

My neighbour Heini Meier believes that even though the above makes for an exciting story for the tabloids, it's very likely wrong, because the impact was so strong that bodies, aircraft fragments, luggage and personal effects were all jumbled together at the crash site. The mysterious pliers might have been hurled out of someone's luggage and the passenger whose body was found entangled with that of the co-pilot may not have been wearing his seatbelt and was therefore thrown out of his seat upon impact.

Lufthansa flight 005 crash site
While helpers are still sifting through the wreckage of the Lufthansa flight 005 crash, another Lufthansa plane flies overhead.

Technology to the Rescue?

Part of the reason why it's so difficult to determine what exactly happened during those fatal final minutes aboard flight 005 is that the Convair 440 was neither equipped with a flight data recorder nor with a cockpit voice recorder, even though the technology has been in existence for more than ten years now and cockpit voice recorders are already mandatory in Australia and the US.

Would a flight data and cockpit voice recorder have prevented the crash of flight 005? No, but they would have helped accident investigators to determine what exactly the cause of the crash was and how to keep it from happening again.

Another question is if the crash could have been prevented, if Bremen airport had already been equipped with a radar system. And in fact, I find it shocking that Bremen airport still doesn't have a radar system and won't get one until 1970, even though we are prone to bad weather and low visibility conditions. Because even if a radar system could not have prevented the crash itself, it could have kept Captain Saalfeld from overshooting the runway, which was the reason for the fatal crash in the first place.

The crash might also have been averted, if the runway at Bremen airport had been longer, so that Captain Saalfeld could have landed on the first attempt. And indeed, there are plans to extend the runway and expand the airport in response to the growth in air traffic. With jet planes becoming increasingly common and supersonic air travel imminent, expanding the airport and extending the runway seems like the path forward.

However, there are problems. Bremen airport was opened in 1920 and in the forty-six years since then, the city has steadily encroached upon the airport. So the only way to expand is towards the south west, where the river Ochtum is in the way. There are proposals to move the river Ochtum and the Kladdinger Straße, but those plans will take years, if not decades to become reality.

In spite of tragedies like the flight 005 crash, air travel is still the safest form of travel. However, technology can help to make air travel even safer and maybe even prevent such tragedies in the future.

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Magazine

[January 31, 1966] Milk of Magnesia (February 1966 Analog)

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by Gideon Marcus

Hornet's Nest

Last month, I wrote a rather savage review of the January 1966 issue of Analog, one of the more egregious examples of Campbellian excess married with an aggrieving nadir of quality.  In short order, my mailbox was deluged with denouncing letters asserting that:

  • Campbell, as the genius who founded modern Science Fiction, could do no wrong
  • I clearly could never understand why people appreciated Analog

It is instructive that when I give an issue of Analog a favorable review, which happens reasonably often, my mailbox stays empty.  But disparage the mighty Campbell at your peril!  Such are the occupational hazards of the Reviewer.

Anyway, what goes down must come up, and this month's issue of Analog is actually pretty good.  Let's take a look at the final mag of the month, shall we?

The issue at hand


by Kelly Freas

The Searcher, by James H. Schmitz

Two guards at an interstellar space port watch with momentary horror as a purple cloud of radiation erupts from a star yacht and devours them in an instant.  The alien marauder has traveled light years, from the dense nebula known as The Pit, in search of a purloined navigational beacon.  Meanwhile, a local professor with an eye to make a buck, is preparing to fence said beacon, hoping to do so before two private agents hired by the University League thwart his plans.

Thus ensues first a cloak and dagger story followed by a crime thriller and topped off with a mad chase from alien horror.


by Kelly Freas

I was excited to see James H. Schmitz' name on the cover as he's written some of my favorite works.  He also has a preference for writing women protagonists, which is refreshing. I'm afraid my review of this piece must be somewhat alloyed.  The concept is great, the characters are interesting, and I enjoyed the piece.  But.

I think the biggest problem with The Searcher is its length.  Had this been a novel length story, Schmitz could have unfolded the mystery of the alien's existence and motivations more organically, rather than relying on straightforward exposition.  We get a lot of solid chunks of explanation interspersing the action.  And it's certainly not the case that Schmitz can't write action; he does so quite admirably, beginning with the very first scene. 

Had I received this manuscript, I'd have asked for an expanded rewrite — and been happy to publish it!

As is, it's a promising but uneven three star work.

The Switcheroo Revisited, by Mack Reynolds


by John Schoenherr

A rather bumbling young Lieutenant in the KGB is dispatched to the United States to find a marvelous invention first depicted in the pages of a science fiction magazine (name unknown, but I think it starts with an A).  He's intercepted by the CIA, but rather than simply arrest him, instead they do their best to convince the agent that the fictional invention is real.  There's a cautionary sting at the end of the story.

Cute, but rather trivial for Reynolds.  I do enjoy how the author has woven a future history of the Superpowers, though, based on his extensive world travels.  The geopolitics and slang lend a tang of verisimilitude. Three stars.

Twin-Planet Probe, by Lee Correy

This is a fun piece that purports to report the results of the first Martian probe to the twin worlds of Earth and Luna, written so as to mirror the sparse and potentially misleading data obtained from Mariner 4.  The moral of the story is that we don't have enough data to make sweeping conclusions yet.

Four stars (and let's get some more data!)

An Ornament to His Profession, by Charles L. Harness

Patrick Conrad, once a chemist, later an attorney, and now a patent lawyer, is a haunted man.  Three years ago, he lost his chemist wife and their young daughter in a car accident.  This trauma has left him in something of a working daze, redoubling his vocational efforts in an effort to put the pain out of his mind.

His current problem: the patenting of a company chemical is threatened from several corners, most trivially by the impending poaching of Conrad's highly efficient secretary by another department, more seriously by a key team member's certainty that he has made a deal with the Devil to ensure success of the chemical's synthesis, and most critically by the revelation that the patent is based on a previously published college thesis.

Conrad must untangle all of these intertwined issues, all while wrestling with the pain of loss that seems also to be directly involved with the patent somehow.


by Kelly Freas

While Charles Harness is a name that may be unfamiliar to you, as it is a byline that has not appeared in more than a decade, Analog readers will certainly remember "Leonard Lockhard", a pseudonym for the combined talents of Harness and Theodore L. Thomas, who currently writes for F&SF.  I'm pretty sure Harness is a patent attorney in real life as his knowledge of the law seems prodigious.

In any event, Ornament is a beautiful story, lyrical and thoughtful — almost misplaced in this magazine, honestly.  I'm not quite sure I understood the ending, though I reread the piece to see if I had missed something; I may have simply missed a subtle reference.  In any event, it's my favorite story of the issue.

Four stars.

Minds Meet, by Paul Ash


by Kelly Freas

Lastly, we have the welcome return of Pauline Ashwell (a Campbell discovery from England who goes by both feminine and masculine bylines for some reason).  In this tale, a human and alien finally achieve true communication after seven years of frustratingly dissatisfying, if technically successful, discourse.  All it took was a little filthy intoxication.

A pleasant three stars.

Summing up

I'm sorry to disappoint those hoping to yell at me for "not understanding why people like Analog", but I liked this month's Analog.  Indeed, this issue virtually ties the (similarly returned to form) latest issue of Galaxy with a 3.4 rating, the best of the month.  Close behind are New Worlds (3.2), Fantasy and Science Fiction (3.1), and Science Fantasy (3).

Only IF (2.9) and Amazing (2.1) finished below the mediocrity line, and IF has the new Heinlein serial to commend it.

We are back to late 50s levels of female engagement in the genre: 10.2% of the new fiction was by women.  There was also a full two magazines' worth of superior content this month, more than twice as much as in December.  It really was a pleasure to be a fan this first month of January 1966!

Let's see how February fares…

The Journey is once again up for a Best Fanzine Hugo nomination — and its founder is up for several other awards as well!  If you've got a Worldcon membership, or if you just want to see what Gideon's done that's Hugo-worthy, please read his Hugo Eligibility article!  Thank you for your continued support.




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55 years ago: Science Fact and Fiction