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Conventions/Performances, Science Fiction/Fantasy

[Oct. 12, 1959] Seattle's finest (GGC, a fairer science fiction convention)

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Seattle really knows how to throw a science fiction convention.

I had been saddened that I hadn't gotten to join Bjo Trimble in her caravan across the country to Detention last month.  After once again experiencing the joy that is GGC (the acronym was never explained to me), all of my regrets disappeared.

I mentioned in my last article that GGC is quite remarkable.  Much of the attendance is female, and the emphasis is on female creators and protagonists in our niches of the literary and cinematic worlds.  There were lectures on our woman science fiction luminaries, with Judith Merril and Katherine MacLean particularly prominent.  There was an update on the state of women in the sciences.  Someone from Space Technology Laboratories talked about scientist Frankie van der Wal and engineer Jenny Sanders: the former directed the Mouse In Able project that launched rodents atop several Thor-Able test rockets; the latter is the first woman to work at Cape Canaveral.  There was also a spotlight on women in comic books, Wonder Woman being the obvious example, but with much also made of newcomers Supergirl and Lady Blackhawk.

For those who couldn't attend the convention (and for those who did and want to see themselves), here is a selection of photographs, on which I rushed development to get quickly to press.  I did not get pictures of the science-fiction play or the costume masquerade–the light level was too low, but I did get a nice selection of attendees.  Take a look!

A superheroine, by the name of Bluebird (a new character, apparently).

This is Nick, a gentleman with whom I had a pleasant conversation, and behind him are a number of attendees playing various card games.

Michael is an interesting chap.  He is part of a growing group of people who finds solace in the past, reveling in past literature, culture, and clothing (he appears to be from the 1920s).  It's a seductive idea, though I'm certainly not about to go in for that sort of thing.

Miss Molly (good Golly!) is a vendor for a small publishing group called Northwest Press.  They print, among many things, comic books of a rather progressive and subversive nature.  Avante garde indeed!

I'm sure you've all seen Walt Disney's newest masterpiece, Sleeping Beauty.  These costumes are exquisite.

(These are the best I could find amongst my rolls of film, but perhaps other attendees have contributions they'd like to make.  There were certainly plenty of snapshots to take!)

In many ways, the convention was a glimpse into the future of society and fandom.  Someday soon, women and men will work in all arenas of life as equal partners, heading shoulder to shoulder to the stars.  I can't wait for this golden time to arrive.

Until then, at least we have GGC.  See you next year…

—
Note: I love comments (you can do so anonymously), and I always try to reply.

P.S. Galactic Journey is now a proud member of a constellation of interesting columns.  While you're waiting for me to publish my next article, why not give one of them a read!


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Magazine

[Oct. 10, 1959] Middle Ground (Nov. 1959 Fantasy and Science Fiction)

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It's going to be a dreary month, if October's selection of digests is any indication.

Of course, my mood isn't buoyed by the fact that I must compose this article in long-hand.  I hate writing (as opposed to typing; and typing on an electric is sheer bliss).  On the other hand, I'm the one who chose to occupy much of the next few days in travel, and fellow airplane passengers don't appreciate the bang bang of fingers hitting keys.

I'm getting ahead of myself.  Let's start at the beginning, shall we?  As I write, I am enjoying my annual plane trip to Seattle for the purpose of visiting my wife's sister, myriad local friends, and to attend a small but lively science fiction convention.  This one is singular in that its attendees are primarily female, and its focus is woman creators.  People like Katherine MacLean, Judith Merril, Pauline Ashwell, Anne McCaffrey, etc. 

Once again, I get to ride in the speedy marvel that is the jet-powered Boeing 707.  San Diego to Seattle in just a few hours is a luxury to which I hope I never become jaded.  Although I will concede that the roar of jets is less pleasant a sound than the thrum of propellers. 

I made several attempts to read this month's Astounding, but I could find nothing in it I enjoyed.  I'll summarize that effort later.  In the meantime, I have just finished the November 1959 F&SF, and if you can read my chicken-scratch (I hope my editor cleans it up before publication), I'll tell you all about it.

F&SF often features brilliant stories.  Last month, the magazine had an unheard-of quality of 4.5 stars, just under the theoretical maximum of five.  This month, we're at the nadir end of quality.  It's readable but fluffy, forgettable stuff.

Story #1, The Martian Store by Howard Fast, recounts the opening of three international stores, ostensibly offering a limited set of Martian goods.  They are only open for a week, but during that time, they attract thousands of would-be customers as well as the attention of terrestrial authorities.  After the Martian language is cracked, it is determined that the Martians intend to conquer the Earth.  The result is world unity and a sharp advance in technological development.  Shortly thereafter, an American company begins production and sale of one of the Martian products, having successfully reverse engineered the design.

Except, of course, in a move that was well-telegraphed, it turns out the whole thing was a super-secret hoax by that company in order to create a demand for those putatively Martian products.  World peace was a by-product.  Thoroughly 3-star material.

G.C. Edmondson's From Caribou to Carry Nation is a gaudily overwritten short piece about transubstantiation featuring an old man who is reborn as his favorite vegetable… and is promptly eaten by his grandson.  Two stars, and good riddance.

Plenitude, by newcomer Will Worthington, is almost good.  It has that surviving-after-the-apocalypse motif I enjoy.  In this story, the End of the World is an apparent plague of pleasure-addiction, with most of the human population retreating into self-contained sacks with their brains hooked into direct-stimulation machines.  It doesn't make a lot of sense, but the quality is such that I anticipate we'll see ultimately see some good stuff from Worthington.  The editor says there are three more of his stories in the bag, so stay tuned.

There is a rather pointless Jules Verne translation, Frritt-Flacc, in which a miserly, mercenary old doctor is given a lordly sum to treat a patient only to discover that the dying man he came to see is himself.  Two stars.

Then there is I know a Good Hand Trick, by Wade Miller, about the magical seduction of an amorous housewife.  It's the kind of thing that might make it into Hugh Heffner's magazine.  Not bad.  Not stellar.  Three stars.

I'll skip over the second half of Starship Soldier, which I discussed last time.  That takes us to Damon Knight's column, in which he laments the death of the technical science fiction story.  I think Starship Soldier makes an argument to the contrary. 

Then we've got Asimov's quite good non-fiction article, C for Celerity, explaining the famous equation, E=MC^2.  I particularly enjoyed the etymology lesson given by the good doctor regarding all of the various scientific terms in common physical parlance.  I've been around for four decades, and my first college major was astrophysics, yet I never knew that the abbreviation for the speed of light is derived from the Latin word for speed (viz. accelerate).

James Blish has a rather good short-short, The Masks, about the futuristic use for easily applied nail polish sheets.  It's a dark story, but worthy.  Four stars.

Ending the book is John Collier's After the Ball, in which a particularly low-level demon spends the tale attempting to corrupt a seemingly incorruptible fellow in order to steal his body for use as a football.  Another over-embroidered tale that lands in the 2-3 star range.

That puts us at three stars for this issue, which is pretty awful for F&SF.  Given that Astounding looks like it might hit an all-time low of two stars, here's hoping this month's IF is worthwhile reading.  Thankfully, I've also picked up the novelization of Walter Miller's A Canticle for Leibowitz, and it's excellent so far.

Back in a few days with a convention report and a book review!

—

P.S. Galactic Journey is now a proud member of a constellation of interesting columns.  While you're waiting for me to publish my next article, why not give one of them a read!

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Book, Magazine

[Oct. 8, 1959] Shooting Stars (Heinlein's Starship Soldier)

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Robert Heinlein newest short novel is out, and my feelings toward it are much mixed.

If you have a subscription to The Magazine of Science Fiction and Fantasy (FASF), you've no doubt read Heinlein's Starship Soldier, by turns a coming-of-age story, a depiction of boot camp life, and a clearing house for Heinlein's unique socio-poltical views.

In brief, it's the tale of Juan Rico, a young man of Filipino extraction, who enlists in the army on the eve of an interstellar war.  As a member of the Mobile Infantry, he is one of the few elite pilots of a suit of powered armor, which packs enough punch to take out a 20th century tank batallion.  Platoons of be-suited soldiers are ejected from orbital spacecraft, whereupon they parachute to the surface and engage the enemy.  In this book, the enemy is a race of intelligent, hive-minded bugs, whose capacity for perfect coordination gives them the upper hand in the first stage of the war.  While it is suggested that humanity eventually wins the war, it is never explicitly explained how.

Heinlein's future is unique: after the Disorders wracking all of the world's governments at the end of the twentieth century, groups of veterans take power throughout the world, eventually combining into a federal government under which only veterans attain citizenship.  The resulting society is depicted as liberal and pleasant.  One of the characters, a teacher of "History and Moral Philosophy" (a required high school course) explains that, as a system, it is no more arbitrary than any other democratic system where the franchise is barred from some on the basis of age, origin, or profession.  The teacher suggests that the system works not because veterans are any better or smarter than civilians, but because they've had "skin in the game," and thus prioritize the welfare of the whole over themselves.

I have trouble buying this: veterans are criminals about as often as anyone else (and the teacher even concedes this in the story), and given that the Roman Empire's citizenry was largely composed of veterans by the end of its existence, I don't know that history backs Heinlein's dream.

Still, there's no denying that the story is superbly written, and the society Heinlein depicts is interesting.  More importantly, Johnny Rico is a great character (if perhaps not sufficiently differentiated from Heinlein's other 18-year olds).  The first half of the short novel begins in medias res with Rico raiding a world of the Bugs' co-belligerents, the Skinnies.  The remainder of this installment deals with Rico's enlistment and training, which is incredibly realistic and engaging.  It ends with Rico as one of the 9% who make it through boot camp to become a space soldier.

Part two is also excellent though somehow more detached.  It is mostly told in recollection, describing the start of the Bug War and Rico's early involvement.  It segues into present tense with Rico entering Officer Candidate School.  The novel ends with Rico leading his old platoon with his father as platoon sergeant.  Near the end, we get a lot of moralizing from the mouth of one of Rico's later teachers with some vague anti-Communist screeds and analogies to the recent Korean War.  However, while there is much talk of the value of a military-run society, there is no reference to nudity or cats, so it's not quite all one might expect of a Heinlein novel.

Heinlein is a veteran, and he went through bootcamp and Navy O.C.S.  He knows whereof he speaks, and it shows.  I've no fault with the writing or the story.  My main issue is that the thing feels unfinished.  We have an excellent beginning, with hints of some really excellent depiction of future space combat (much better than as shown in Dickson's recent Dorsai!), then there is an engaging training montage, some good world set-up… and then it just ends.  It really needs a return to the style of the first half, with perhaps another battle to end the story as it began.

I understand Heinlein is releasing a stand-alone novel later this year.  Since the serial is too short for publication, I'm hoping he'll develop it further.  He was likely limited by the size of the vehicle (FASF), which was back to its usual 128 pages this month.

I will say this for the book.  Not only is there a nice, poly-ethnic cast, including a non-White protagonist, but women are a key part of the military.  Whereas the Mobile Infantry are generally (wholly?) male, the Navy is primarily female, and women make the best pilots.  In fact, it was Rico's high school sweetheart who enlisted first, and she distinguishes herself as much as Rico, though she is, sadly, incidental to the story. 

Next time, I'll discuss the rest of the magazine.  In the mean time, Ad Astra!

—

P.S. Galactic Journey is now a proud member of a constellation of interesting columns.  While you're waiting for me to publish my next article, why not give one of them a read!

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Science / Space Race

[Oct. 6, 1959] Shooting the Moon's backside (The flight of Luna 3, first part)

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The Soviets have done it again, reaching yet another milestone in space exploration before the Americans.

This time, the goal was the Moon's far side, which had never been seen before.  The reason for this is that the Moon is tidally locked in its orbit around the Earth such that it cannot rotate (much as an object floating in water will stay fixed with is heavy end pointing down).  As a result, humanity has only seen one side of the Moon for the entirety of human existence.  Isaac Asimov once joked, in the form of a medicore science fiction tale, that there is no back side to the Moon–that it's really just a false front movie prop.

But there is a far side.  We know this because the Soviets have sent its third "Lunik," formally named Luna 3, sailing around the Moon to take pictures of it.  The results promise to be a darn-sight better than what we managed with Explorer 6 and a much closer target.

It is not a surprise that this new and improved Luna is such a capable craft.  It weighs an impressive 278.5 kg, which is nearly twice as heavy as the American Atlas Able Pioneers, imminently scheduled for lunar launch.  Not only does the new Soviet probe have a real movie camera on board, but it also mounts a slew of scientific experiments designed to probe the magnetic fields and charged particles of cislunar space.  I'm really hoping that its measurements will shed light on why the Earth's magnetic field gets so wibbly and wobbly about 70,000 kilometers up; the leading current theory is that it is due to interactions with the sun's magnetic field.

Now, at this point, you're probably wondering why I haven't included Lunik's photos of the Moon.  Well, the answer is simple: they haven't arrived yet.  As I write, the probe is making its closest approach to the Moon.  It will then fly about 70,000 kilometers beyond the Moon before circling back for a close pass by the Earth, whereupon it will transmit its photographic cargo.  That will happen in just under two weeks.

Thus, my enthusiasm may be premature.  It is quite possible that Luna 3 may suffer a catastrophic error that prevents it from sending pictures home or even taking pictures in the first place.  Even if that happens, the Soviets will still have been the first to succeed at a tricky bit of orbital billiards. 

—

P.S. Galactic Journey is now a proud member of a constellation of interesting columns.  While you're waiting for me to publish my next article, why not give one of them a read!

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TV

[Oct. 3, 1959] Entering the Twilight Zone (Twilight Zone's first episode)

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It never ceases to amaze me how far technology can progress in such a short time. 

Think about it: a thousand years ago, the pace of history was pretty placid.  Sure, there was plenty of turbulence in the span of a life, from war to plague to famine, but the background of civilization (or lack thereof) was fairly constant. 

Over the last few hundred years, the pace of change has accelerated exponentially.  There are people alive today who clearly remember a time before automobiles, before air travel, before the telephone, before electricity, before atomic energy, before computers.  So much of our values and coping mechanisms are rooted in our childhood and upbringing; how do people adjust to living in a world so wildly different from that of their youth?

It seems inevitable that change is going to become so rapid that we just won't be able to deal with it.  Perhaps science fiction is the lubricant that keeps it all from being too overwhelming.  After all, if we've already gotten a sneak preview of the future, it can't surprise us as much.

What brought this all home to me was the debut of a new science fiction/fantasy anthology on television called The Twilight Zone, hosted by screenwriter and producer, Rod Serling.  It debuted yesterday, October 2, 1959.  And here's why it is so significant, to me.

Twenty years ago, "hard science fiction" was just beginning, led by Astounding and Campbell's brood.  Ten years ago, print science fiction exploded and produced a profusion of genre magazines.  Many have died, but I think the science fiction novel may fill that gap.  And, in the last decade, the science fiction movie (and its bastard step-child, the science fiction B-movie) has come into its own.

Now we're getting science fiction delivered to every home in the country courtesy of the little glass-screened box in the living room.  We truly are living in the future. 

If this first episode of The Twilight Zone, entitled "Where is Everybody?" is any indication, the future is bright, indeed.  For the show is produced with movie-level sophistication, including technically innovative cinematography and excellent musical scoring.  Production values would be meaningless without a good story, however.  So how did TZ do on its first outing?

The episode opens up with a jumpsuited youngish man walking down an empty road.  He arrives at a cafe where music is blaring from a jukebox, steam is rising from a coffee pot, pies are in the oven… but there's no one in sight.  Moreover, the man doesn't remember who he is or where he came from.

Walking into town, he hears the reassuring bells from a church marking the passage of time, and there are hints that life is going on: a lit cigar, a phone ringing in a booth, but still no people at all.  Our protagonist stumbles upon a movie theater, which springs to life as the sun sets, and he realizes he is a member of the Air Force (which explains the jumpsuit). 

At this point, my daughter cleverly guessed that the man had flown an experimental plane so fast that he'd broken some kind of time barrier.  This was after I had guessed that the man was somehow in the same time as everyone else but out of phase.

It turns out that both of us were wrong.  The man is actually an Air Force sergeant enduring three weeks in an isolation chamber so as to get used to one aspect of a solo lunar trip: enforced solitude.  The sergeant has cracked up by the end of it, though he recovers after being let out.

For me, the ending was a bit of a let down.  I thought our explanation was more interesting.  Moreover, I just don't believe all this hype about the dangers of space travel.  I don't think weightlessness will be a problem, or loneliness, or radiation, or meteors.  Lack of air, pressure, the cost of rockets, the ability to lift off and land safely, those are real issues.  These other factors are melodramatic boogeymen.

That said, I think the show has a lot of potential.  It's smartly done and very atmospheric.  My daughter loved it and can't wait to watch next week's episode, apparently involving an aged salesman and a Mr. Death.  We'll tune in, for certain.

We should all rejoice.  Science fiction has entered yet another medium.  Truly, the Golden Age endures.

—

P.S. Galactic Journey is now a proud member of a constellation of interesting columns.  While you're waiting for me to publish my next article, why not give one of them a read!

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Science / Space Race

[Sep. 29, 1959] Watch the birdie! (First photo of the Earth from orbit)

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For more than a month and a half, Explorer 6 has been a busy bee, happily conducting the most advanced science in orbit to date thanks to its highly eccentric orbit, taking it several thousand miles above the surface of the Earth, and its battery of sophisticated instruments.

What has this intrepid little fellow reaped in terms of scientific data?  A veritable bonanza.

Firstly, let’s look at the most accessible treasure—the first picture of the Earth taken from orbit.

On August 14, 1959, one week after launch, Explorer 6 turned its photographic eye to its mother planet.  It wasn’t a camera in the normal sense of the word; such a device would have been too heavy.  Rather, it was a simple eye that scanned the sky in strips as the satellite spun around (it rotates for stability).  Engineers on the ground then attempted to assemble the strips so that they might piece together into something recognizable as the Earth.  It was much like trying to restore a shredded document.  As Charles P. Sonnet, head of the scientific team commented, “You have to make the a priori judgment that the Earth is round.”

Apparently, one recent press conference attendee called the photo a “fake.” Chuck replied, “No, it’s not a fake… but it is pretty limited.”


Chuck Sonnet

So as a phototourist, Explorer 6 was a bit of a dud.  In other categories, however, Explorer 6 is an unqualified winner.  For two weeks, before the probe’s ion chamber broke down, Explorer 6 returned an unprecedented map of the Van Allen Belts of trapped radiation encircling the globe, and results are still coming in, though it is harder to determine the energy of encountered particles.  The on-board cosmic ray scintillator has determined that the “solar wind,” the waves of particles emanating from the sun, are not modulated by Earth’s magnetic fields but rather are controlled almost exclusively by the solar magnetic field.  Explorer 6’s magnetometer has returned a comprehensive map of Earth’s fields, which conform to theoretical predictions only out to a distance of five Earth radii—after that, they get unexpectedly variable.


Explorer 6's magetometer and the ones who built it: Paul Coleman and George Takahashi

The only field we still don’t have good data on is micrometeorites.  Virtually every launched space probe has had an experiment to measure the number and energy of little orbital particles to see if they might pose a significant threat to satellites and spaceships.  The data they have returned has not been robust enough to reach any real conclusions.  All we can determine thus far is that there are some particles up there, but they can’t be too hazardous since our satellites haven’t been damaged by them!

Explorer 6 continues to return data, not only augmenting humanity’s fund of scientific data, but also proving the efficacy of the first digital telemetry system—a necessity for any interplanetary space shot.  It is unknown how long the satellite will last, but there is no question that it has done yeoman’s work to date.  It is arguably the most successful orbital probe ever launched, and it is a harbinger of good tidings for the upcoming Pioneer Able launches to the moon and Pioneer Thor deep space probe.

—

P.S. Galactic Journey is now a proud member of a constellation of interesting columns.  While you're waiting for me to publish my next article, why not give one of them a read!

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Book, Magazine

[Sep. 26, 1959] Coda with mathematics (October 1959 Astounding)

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Ah, the beginning of a new month.  A stack of magazines fresh off the newstand and in the mail.  An average of 30.4166 days of reading pleasure (mostly) to look forward to.

But I haven't read them yet.  Does that mean I've nothing to discuss?  Of course not.  We've still got to do the numbers! 

Every month, Astounding issues a reader poll to determine their favorite stories.  The most-loved authors get a bonus, and this keeps quality coming back to the magazine… or ensures that the fine Campbellian tradition of Earth First, Cro Magnon-era science fiction is maintained.  You decide.

In any event, here is what readers had to say about the July issue:

Randal Garrett's But I don't think…: 2.33
Gordon Dickson's Dorsai! Part 3: 2.40
Chris Anvil's Leverage: 3.33
Algis Budrys' Straw: 3.41
Theodore L. Thomas' Broken Tool: 3.95

What a lousy issue that was.  The lack of a clear #1 suggests it wasn't so popular with the readers either, but that may just be projection.  Dorsai certainly did not finish as strongly as it had started.  As for the rest of the stories, looking back over my notes, they all blended together in undistinguished mediocrity, but the order in which the reader poll placed them is perhaps how I would have done so, too.  When your job is to rate the best gruel, you're just as well-served pulling numbers out of a hat.

One of these days, Astounding is going to surprise me.  I keep telling myself that.

See you in a few!

—

P.S. Galactic Journey is now a proud member of a constellation of interesting columns.  While you're waiting for me to publish my next article, why not give one of them a read!

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Magazine, Serial

[Sep. 24, 1959] Cruising at the bottom (October 1959 Astounding)

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I had planned on breaking up the rest of this month’s (October 1959) Astounding into two parts, but seeing how there are only four pieces of fiction, albeit long ones, I’ve decided to give it all to you in one blow.

Chris Anvil continues to put out the most mediocre stuff imaginable.  These are the stories I’d expect to see in Imagination, if “Madge” were still around.  The Law-Breakers is the cover story for this issue, and it really is barely worth the space it takes.  Two invaders from a race of extremely humanoid aliens attempt to infiltrate the Earth using sophisticated invisibility technology.  All of their predecessors have failed on these missions, so the stakes are high.  As it turns out, the Terrans are ready for the invaders, trailing them wearing cloaking fields of their own.

Once captured, the invaders are offered a deal—become citizens and their sentence will be reduced from felony sabotage to a host of petty misdemeanors.  Along the way, we get some fatuous smugness about how Earth is better than the aliens because it is a planet of multiple competing civilizations rather than a single, united race.  It took me three sittings to finish the story, which is saying something for a 30-page story.

Story #2 is even worse: The Unspecialist, by unknown Murray F. Yaco, features a pilot and co-pilot of a small scout ship accompanied on their mission of reconnaissance by a “Bean Brain,” a seemingly useless fellow who, nevertheless, contributes valuable expertise in a particular pinch.  The gotcha of the story (a disappointing cliché of science fiction that I thought had died out) is learning the former profession of the unspecialist.  Dull, dull, dull.

I was thus rather pleasantly surprised by the third story, Dodkin’s Job, by the old hand, Jack Vance.  Somehow, I have a soft spot for dystopian stories with highly regimented societies.  Not so much the predestined occupation stories, like Asimov’s Profession, but more the totalitarian tales where people are pigeonholed into horizontal layers of privilege and are constantly trying to climb out.

In this one, Luke is a 40-year old born with ample opportunities, but due to his nonconformist nature, he finds his career a sordid succession of demotions until he finds himself a Level D Flunky assigned to clean sewers.  When a new labor directive is passed down to return his shovel to the central office every day, thus wasting three hours of his own time, Luke decides to petition the authorities.  Up the ladder he goes, to the very top, and then back down to the prestige-less clerk levels whence the impetus for the decision came.  There, he finds the true secret of bureaucracy—that data is power, and it is the presenter of data who really has the power, not the decision-makers who can only make decisions based on the data presented. 

It’s a story that kept me up past my bed-time, and, as a person who presents data for a living, a very instructive piece, to be sure!

That leaves us with Part 2 of That Sweet Little Old Lady, by Mark Phillips aka Randall Garrett.  As you know, I’m rather predisposed against Mr. Garrett, but I did stick it out through both installments, this tale of telepaths, espionage, FBI agents, and renaissance costumery.

In short, there is an information leak somewhere in America, and it’s up to Agent Malone to find it.  Along the way, he teams up with a host of insane telepaths, all of whom are non-functioning with the exception of one who believes herself to be an immortal Queen Elizabeth I.  She insists that her entourage dress appropriately, and I now understand why Randy dressed up as Henry VIII for Wondercon—he was really dressing up as Agent Malone (or Malone was designed to look like Randy playing Henry VIII).

Anyway, it’s a flippantly written who-dunnit.  It’s not offensive, and I was able to finish it in a reasonable amount of time, but it was the literary equivalent of Saltines—bland and not particularly satisfying.  Also, I’m getting rather tired of Kelly Freas—how many wrinkles does an illustrated person need, anyway?

Thus ends another 2.5 star Astounding.  This makes the biggest spread between magazines I've seen in a month–compare to 3.5 for Galaxy, 4.5 for F&SF.

That’s that for magazines this month, though I'll do an Astounding Analytical Laboratory stop press in a couple of days.  Next month, we’ve got another Astounding, F&SF, and IF.  Also, a host of anticipated space shots, probably a movie or two, and a new science fiction/fantasy/horror anthology debuting in about a week: The Twilight Zone.
See you soon!

—

P.S. Galactic Journey is now a proud member of a constellation of interesting columns.  While you're waiting for me to publish my next article, why not give one of them a read!

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Science / Space Race

[Sep. 19, 1959] Anchors Aweigh! (The Navy's Transit and Vanguard launches)

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A bit of a stop press on the Space Race as I wade through this months Astounding, which I unwisely saved for last.  You should never eat dessert first…

Have you ever noticed how a train’s whistle seems to rise in pitch as the locomotive approaches and then the pitch lowers as the train departs?  This is caused by the compression of sound waves as they whistle heads toward your ears followed by a decompression as it heads away.  It’s called the Doppler Effect (after the 19th century Austrian scientist, Christian Doppler).

This concept will be used by satellites to provide accurate navigation aids for American military craft and, someday, civilians as well.  The idea is that the satellites, called Transit, will broadcast at a fixed frequency.  A receiver on the ground can tell from the quality of the Doppler frequency shifts, knowing the satellite’s orbit, where it is to within a small degree of error.  Very simple in concept.

Sadly, Transit 1 failed to orbit the day-before-yesterday when its Thor Able booster malfunctioned after liftoff.  On the other hand, the Navy (the service that developed the satellite) did get some useful data from the sub-orbital flight, I’m told.

Speaking of the Navy, the final flight of the Navy/civilian Vanguard program ended in success yesterday with the orbiting of Vanguard 3.  It is another x-ray, magnetosphere, and micrometeoroid detecting probe along the lines of the Explorers.  Its long-lasting orbit and conical shape will also allow the satellite to be used to determine the density of the upper atmosphere for decades to come.

I’ll publish more on the scientific findings of this probe as I hear them.  We are beyond the days where just getting the things up is the whole story.

And with that, the Vanguard program comes to an end with three successful flights out of 11.  This may sound like a poor record, particularly given the rather vicious coverage given the program by both domestic and foreign media (remember “Flopnik”?)

But Vanguard has enabled the reaping of a tremendous harvest.  As a booster, it was remarkably efficient and cheap.  The reliable second and third stages have been adopted as supplemental stages on other rockets, and it looks like the first stage will be turned into NASA’s new Vega second-stage system.  Thanks to Vanguard, there will be American property in space for the next several hundred years. 

Most importantly, Vanguard paved the way for a truly civilian space program.  Though it was derived from a Navy proposal, and spin-off technology from the program is being used by the military, the idea of a purely scientific and non-military space endeavor is a powerful and important one.  Our new space agency, NASA, owes much to it.

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P.S. Galactic Journey is now a proud member of a constellation of interesting columns.  While you're waiting for me to publish my next article, why not give one of them a read!

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Science / Space Race, Science Fiction/Fantasy

[Sep. 17, 1959] A hike and a flight (Oct. 1959 Astounding and two Space Races)

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The big news this week is Astounding is raising its price from 35 cents to four bits.  It's a big jump, but I'm sure it's a necessary move given that Galaxy and F&SF also cost 50 cents (though IF is still at 35 cents).

It is significant that I have nibbled around the edges of the October Astounding, so to speak, starting with the non-fiction articles.  I didn't like the first half of That Sweet Old Woman, and I doubt I'll care much for part two.  I'll bite the bullet tonight.  Probably.

But the non-fiction is pretty nifty.  Campbell's editorial, for once, does not stink of psionics.  He probably saw the writing on the wall when everyone, but everyone, at Worldcon ribbed him about his editorials and story-selection policy.  So now John is openly asking for science articles, and he's hoping to introduce a slick page element to the magazine come the beginning of next year.  I'm a science writer, so I'll be interested to see how it goes.  Perhaps I'll submit an article or two.

I also liked Bill Boyd's article on obtaining blood-typing reagents from vegetables, Blood from a Turnip.  It really sings the praises of basic research to see such a medical boon to humanity come from such a simple, off-the-wall experiment.  The price of such reagents has been dropped a thousand-fold, as a result.

Next time, I promise to talk about fiction.  Probably.

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In Space Race news, the X-15 rocketplane made its maiden powered flight on September 17 with veteran pilot Scott Crossfield (the man who broke the Mach 2 barrier) at the controls.  It was just a 9-minute flight using two underpowered XLR-11 engines rather than XLR-99 engine designed for the plane.  The XLR-11 is actually the engine that sent Chuck Yeager past the sound barrier in 1948. 

Moreover, the plane developed mechanical problems, and a small fire broke out.  Crossfield was able to get the craft down safely, however. 

And now to the ballistic manned space program.  In a way, the Mercury project, that one-manned space capsule that will carry the first American into space, has already succeeded.  Last week, on September 9, a boilerplate spacecraft was launched atop an Atlas ICBM.  I’ve written about “Little Joe,” designed for low-level test firings of the Mercury.  Naturally, the Atlas missions are called “Big Joe.” The recent mission marks the first time the Atlas has been used in support of the manned space program.

For the capsule, the mission was a complete success.  It was lofted to a height of 90 miles, separated from the Atlas, and crashed into the ocean some 1424 miles away from its launching site at Cape Canaveral.  The craft was in good shape, proving the sturdiness of its heat shield.

The Atlas, on the other hand, suffered some teething troubles.  The Atlas missile has three engines, two of which are supposed to drop away when fuel is depleted.  They didn’t.  The Atlas also took its time separating from the spacecraft. 

The flight was good enough, though.  It is my understanding that NASA is considering the cancellation of “Big Joe 2,” scheduled to be launched sometime in the Fall.

So there you have it.  Not only are the Americans and the Soviets neck and neck, but it seems that the two American space programs are also competing closely.  It's an exciting time for those who bet.

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P.S. Galactic Journey is now a proud member of a constellation of interesting columns.  While you're waiting for me to publish my next article, why not give one of them a read!

(Confused?  Click here for an explanation as to what's really going on)


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