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[July 2, 1968] What’s the Point? (August 1968 IF)

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by David Levinson

The appearance of doing something

One of the German Empire’s colonies before the First World War was German South West Africa, nestled between what are today South Africa, Angola, and Botswana. After the war, South Africa was granted a mandate over the colony by the League of Nations, similar to Britain’s control over Palestine or France’s over Lebanon and Syria. The League was dissolved in 1946 and replaced by the United Nations. In general, mandates were intended to be replaced by United Nations Trusteeship, and the General Assembly recommended that South West Africa be one of those, however South Africa refused. In 1949, South Africa declared that it was no longer subject to U.N. oversight where South West Africa was concerned, as they began to extend their apartheid system into the former colony. The following year, the International Court ruled that the U.N. should exercise supervision in the administration of the territory in place of the League, but South Africa rejected the Court’s opinion and has refused any involvement by the U.N.

A political cartoon from after the First World War.

Independence movements have swept through Africa over the last decade, and as I noted in January of last year, South West Africa is not immune. The predominant organization is the South West Africa People’s Organisation (SWAPO), and they have been lobbying the U.N. for several years. In 1966, the General Assembly terminated the mandate, giving the U.N. direct supervision of the territory. Last year, they established the United Nations Council for South West Africa to administer the territory until independence. South Africa remains recalcitrant. And so, on June 12th, the Assembly approved Resolution 2372, which, in accordance with the wishes of the people as represented by SWAPO, changed the name to Namibia. Well, that, some finger-wagging at South Africa and the nations supporting the illegal occupation of Namibia, and a request that the Security Council do something to get South Africa out. Don’t hold your breath.

Sam Nujoma (r.), President of SWAPO, shakes hands with Mostafa Rateb Abdel-Wahab, President of the Council for Namibia

Noir, nonsense, and the blatantly obvious

The stories in this month’s IF range from the patently obvious to those that leave the reader wondering why the author bothered. There are a couple of mildly entertaining stops along the way, and the high point may surprise you (even if it is more molehill than mountain).

Supposedly for Rogue Star, which doesn’t have a starship crash. Or this many characters. Art by Chaffee

Whaddya Read?, by H.L. Gold

The founding editor of both IF and Galaxy offers a defense of modern science fiction. Maybe the new stuff isn’t as different as most people seem to think. It’s just better written.

Three stars.

Getting Through University, by Piers Anthony

A few stories ago, dentist Dr. Dillingham was kidnapped by aliens and has since bumbled around the galaxy, from one emergency patient to the next. Now, he’s been given the opportunity to attend dental school and gain proper accreditation. All he needs to do is pass the entrance exam.

The doctor deals with a difficult case instead of prepping for his exam. Art by Vaughn Bodé

Surprisingly, given the previous stories and the author’s general output, I rather liked this one. A lot of what happens is ridiculously obvious, but it doesn’t lead to quite where you might suspect. This is almost the quality that Cele Lalli used to get out of Anthony. Maybe there’s hope for him after all.

A somewhat above average three stars.

If… and When, by Lester del Rey

This month, del Rey looks at Project Orion, the idea of using nuclear bombs to propel a starship. It’s not as crazy as it sounds, but he’s not shy about discussing some of the problems connected with a successful launch of the project (including the hundred billion dollar price tag). This is a clear-headed look at an interesting idea full of possibilities for science fiction authors.

Three stars.

In Another Land, by Mary Urhausen

Seeking to escape a regimented society and a failed love affair, the narrator attempts suicide only to find himself in a utopia. That utopia feels like the sort often imagined 50 or 60 years ago, but this month’s first time author does what she can with it. The shift from first person perspective to third person is slightly jarring, but gives the story what little bite it has. New author Urhausen shows definite skill. Here’s hoping she can hone it into something a little meatier.

Three stars.

Last Dreamer, by A. Bertram Chandler

Commodore John Grimes just wants to go home, but the strangeness at the Rim of the galaxy keeps throwing adventures in his way. This time, it’s a habitable planet with no sun, where everything is out of a bad fairy tale, and everyone speaks in rhymed couplets.

It comes as no surprise that Dan Adkins can’t draw a fire-breathing dragon. Art by Adkins

I generally enjoy the Grimes stories, but this is just silly – and that in a series that has had intelligent rats and an appearance by the Olympian gods. Of course, Chandler knows it’s silly and does get some humor out of the Commodore’s grumpiness about the situation. (He really should have ended a sentence with the word “orange,” though. Let’s see them rhyme that.) Overall, a disappointment; the more so because Chandler teased us with a story from the very beginning of Grimes’s career, but has since stuck with the older man near the end of his service. Let’s see some more of the younger man, whether wet behind the ears or just coming into his prime.

A low three stars.

Merlin Planet, by E.G. Von Wald

Sticking with fantasy pretending it’s science fiction, we have the story of the new man on a Terran trading team on a world where the locals can do magic (thanks to some psychic handwaving; what hath Campbell wrought?). Fortunately, the wizards can be stopped for a time by doing complicated math in your head. Unfortunately, instead of the requested mathematician, headquarters has sent a business law expert.

That’s not how you use a magic staff. Art by Wehrle

If you can get past the magic, the story isn’t terrible. However, it is twice as long as it needs to be. I saw the solution as soon as the new guy revealed he couldn’t do high order math. The rest was just an interminable wait until he figured it out. Right on the line between two and three stars, but the length drags it down for me.

A high two stars.

Song of the Blue Baboon, by Roger Zelazny

Zelazny takes us into the mind of a man who either betrayed Earth to alien invaders or carried out a clever stratagem to defeat them. The problem is that he never engages with his theme. The ambiguity of the ending could be read a couple of ways. Pretty, but shallow.

A low three stars.

What the Old Aliens Left, by D.M. Melton

Here’s our first tale with strong noir elements: an honest cop, a corrupt system, a dangerous dame. The lure of great wealth? The technology left behind by a dead alien civilization.

Most of the action takes place in a bar, too. Art by Brand

Melton continues to improve. He’s never going to get to the point where I’m excited to see his name on the cover, but at least it’s a sign of a probably-entertaining read. He might be getting a handle on writing women, but he’s working from a strong template here, one that’s not necessarily great, but at least gives them their own motives. On the whole, the story probably could have been tightened up here and there. Less going back and forth from the bar, for instance. Still an entertaining read.

Three stars.

West Is West, by Larry Tritten

The inhabitants of the planet West wallow in the cliches of old-school westerns and have names like Randolph Scott Cartwheel, even if many of them are duck-billed saurians. Sheriff Matt Cooper has to bring in Cartwheel for the unprovoked killing of another saurian. Then things go a bit noir, with a femme fatale and the Maltese Longhorn Steer.

A shootout is about the only thing missing from this story. Art by Wehrle

Tritten appears to be another newcomer, though he’s not acknowledged as an IF First. The parody here is laid on with a dumptruck and feels dated. The cliches are familiar, but the western genre has largely moved on from them. There’s no room for Clint Eastwood’s man with no name (though Rowdy Yates would likely feel at home). Ron Goulart could have pulled this off.

A low three stars.

Rogue Star (Part 3 of 3), by Fredrik Pohl and Jack Williamson

This thing doesn’t deserve a recap. I’ll merely note that the climax features actual stars battling each other. The flaws are many, but I’ll limit myself to just two. For starters, “protagonist” Andy Quam should have just stayed home. Everything would have turned out exactly the same, and he wouldn’t have had to deal with all the stress. There are also a number of unresolved subplots, most notably the strange behavior of Earth’s sun. We’re told why it’s happening, but nothing is done about it.

Two stars for this installment and barely two stars for the novel as a whole.

Edmond Hamilton just smashed planets together. What a piker. Art by Gaughan

Summing up

If you told me that, in an issue with stories by the likes of Roger Zelazny and Jack Williamson, the one I would like best was by Piers Anthony, I’d have laughed at you. Look, it’s not a great story; it’s just the one that annoyed me the least. Maybe the summer heat is making me cranky.

That’s a promising lineup.




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Magazine, Science Fiction/Fantasy, Serial

[April 2, 1968] Asking the big questions (May 1968 IF)

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by David Levinson

A spring thaw?

Change appears to be coming to Czechoslovakia. Faced with growing dissatisfaction last year, First Secretary of the Czechoslovakian Communist Party Antonín Novatný invited Leonid Brezhnev to visit Prague last December in the hope of shoring up his position. Instead, Brezhnev was shocked by Novatný’s unpopularity and pushed him to resign as Party Secretary (he remained President).

Alexander Dubček was elected as the new First Secretary on January 5th and soon began on a course of reforms. On February 22nd, in the presence of Brezhnev, Dubček announced that steps would be taken to bring about “the widest possible democratization of the entire socio-political system.” A few days later, the Party adopted the first draft of an action program which allows greater freedom of speech (much of the resistance to Novatný came from the Writer’s Union) and more autonomy for Slovakia (the Czech Novatný had tried to curb Slovakian culture and language; Dubček is Slovakian). February ended with the release of the first uncensored magazine by the Writer’s Union.

Alexander Dubček addresses the nation after taking office.

On March 4th, the Party Presidium voted to dismantle press censorship, and by the end of the week the papers were calling for Novatný to step down as President. On the 14th, the Party voted to politically rehabilitate party members who had been purged in the 1950s. By the 22nd, the pressure was too much for Novatný and he reluctantly resigned as President. He will be replaced by Ludvík Svoboda, who had been purged, but rehabilitated at the request of Khrushchev.

The reaction in the East Bloc has been as might be expected. A Warsaw Pact meeting was hastily called for the 23rd in Dresden. The Poles, in particular, seemed unhappy with Dubček’s reforms. They may be nervous due to the student protests in Warsaw and elsewhere in the country. The word “counterrevolution” was mentioned and the specter of Hungary was raised. Dubček seems to have calmed fears for now.

Can Dubček keep the Soviets at arm’s length and bring about his reforms? Tito managed it, but Yugoslavia isn’t in the Warsaw Pact and doesn’t have a border with the Soviet Union. Only time will tell.

Seeking answers

The stories in this month’s IF grapple with deep questions. Some are big, such as expedience versus morality or the meaning of bravery and sacrifice; others are more personal. And Poul Anderson calls everything we think about the future into question.

Supposedly for Dismal Light, which doesn’t even have two male characters. Generic art by Pederson

Limiting Factor, by Poul Anderson

In a guest editorial, Anderson starts off looking at the limits of extrapolation as a tool for science fiction and winds up warning us about the limits of growth. Not population growth, as you might expect, but rather technological growth. A conservative estimate says that industry in North America alone will raise the average temperature of the Earth by 3°C. He warns, “You needn’t extrapolate far before you see the polar icecaps melting and the continental shores flooded. A little farther, and the entire planet swelters… A little farther, and life is threatened.”

Three stars.

Where the Subbs Go, by C. C. MacApp

When humanity discovered a faster-than-light drive, the Eje appeared with the Beam, allowing even faster travel across the galaxy, and established an outpost on Pluto. They also offer medical care for those injured in space. Those injured seriously enough are given substitute bodies, all identical with tremendous healing ability. These people are known as Subbs and are generally looked down on. Ralse Bukanan is one of the richest men in the galaxy; unknown to all but his closest business partners, he is also a Subb.

When Ralse’s son is kidnapped, he has to push his company to the brink of collapse and take some huge risks to rescue the young man. Add in some stolen Eje weapons, and the stakes get even higher.

Ralse questions one of the last people to see his son. Art by Jeff Jones

This is pretty good. MacApp can write good adventure when puts his mind to it, and he handles the more philosophical parts with equal skill. What we learn about the motives of the Eje turns everything upside-down and forces Ralse to change a lot of his priorities. The story is a little long, though. It’s right on the line between three and four stars, but probably good enough to go high.

A low four stars.

New Currents in Fandom, by Lin Carter

Our Man in Fandom takes a look at some new trends among fans. He starts off with the giving of fan awards at the latest Worldcon. He does try slightly to defend calling the awards Pongs, but I do share his hope that fan awards will continue to be given. After a quick look at some adjacent fandoms—which he’s covered before—Carter tells about an effort to print a portfolio of the late Hannes Bok’s work. Finally, he mentions a group of medieval reenactors known as The Society for Contemporary Anachronisms (sic; it’s Creative Anachronism). They’ll be holding a tournament at the Worldcon in Oakland on the afternoon of Labor Day.

Three stars.

Dismal Light, by Roger Zelazny

At the behest of Earth, Francis Sandow turned a bare hunk of rock orbiting Betelgeuse into the barely livable world Dismal, which Earth turned into a prison. The unnamed narrator stuck around after his sentence was up to keep working on a project to figure out the secret of a strain of extremely fast-growing rice. When an evacuation is announced because Betelgeuse is about to go nova, he drags his feet, saying he hopes to answer the question plaguing him. It may be more personal than rice.

One of the dangers faced by the narrator. Art by Brock

Zelazny gives us another of his smart-mouthed narrators. It’s starting to become a key feature of his work that he ought to use a little less frequently. The story is told with all the usual skill we expect from this author, but it fell a little short for me. That may be because the deeply personal question the narrator is struggling with didn’t resonate with me.

A very high three stars, but others may well give it a fourth.

Past Touch-the-Sky Mountain, by Barry Alan Weissman

Sommerfield, John is a merchant in the Chinese empire. On his way from his home base on the west coast of the New World (discovered by Marco Polo) to the British territory of Standish, his trip is interrupted by a police officer who has never heard of such nonsense.

Weissman is this month’s first-time author. Although forgettable, the story is well-written and has enough of a twist at the end to make it enjoyable.

Three stars.

Cenotaph, by D. M. Melton

As the shuttle bringing passengers down to Mora II swings past the Cenotaph Satellite, Steve Mendes reflects on the events that took the lives of the three people memorialized there, saving the lives of a full ship of colonists. Deservedly or not, he carries a lot of guilt.

Passing the Cenotaph when possible is tradition. Art by Eddie Jones

Melton’s output thus far has been a consistent low three stars. He’s taken a big step forward here. The events that took the lives of some of the forward team may not be terribly believable, but the characterization and internal monologue of the narrator are very well done.

A very low four stars.

The Creatures of Man, by Verge Foray

Hard-shelled, metal-spitting creatures have come to the world. After discussing things with a spider, a butterfly decides it is time to summon Man.

The butterfly and spider discuss the new creatures. Art by Wehrle

There’s a dreamlike quality to the narrative that, I suppose, reflects the different thought processes of the insect characters. However, the story was painfully obvious, too long, and the butterfly’s knowing of the “now-moment” didn’t really make any sense to me.

A low three stars, others may like this better.

The Man in the Maze (Part 2 of 2), by Robert Silverberg

Richard Muller was one of Earth’s top diplomats when he was sent to make contact with the first aliens humanity had discovered. On his return, he discovered that no one could stand to be around him for more than a few minutes, because the emotions of his deep subconscious radiate from him. In disgust, he retreated to the desolate planet Lemnos and the heart of a million-year-old city surrounded by deadly traps. Now his services are needed again. Charles Boardman, the man who sent Muller on the mission that gave him his affliction, and Ned Rawlins, the son of Muller’s late best friend, have come to recruit him.

Ned gradually gains Muller’s trust, feeding him the lies carefully constructed by Boardman. Eventually, he is overcome with guilt at the deception and reveals all to Muller. This was definitely not in Boardman’s plans. Is it possible to convince Muller to undertake this vital mission? If he goes, will he be healed? Can he rejoin humanity?

Ned may have gone too far to gain Muller’s trust. Art by Gaughan

Silverberg wraps up his retelling of Philoctetes strongly, though not as strongly as I had hoped. The final chapter, which focuses on Ned, is very, very good; it’s just that getting there wasn’t entirely satisfying. The whole thing is still excellent, and I’ll be putting it on my shelves when the novel comes out.

A high four stars for this segment and a very high four for the novel as a whole.

Summing up

At the beginning of the year, editor Fred Pohl promised a number of new features would be coming. So far, all we’ve seen is the introduction of the SF Calendar. Now for the first time since the October 1965 issue brought us the end of Skylark DuQuesne and the beginning of Retief’s War, the end of one serial hasn’t shared the issue with the start of a new. I’m not sure I’d call that a positive innovation, but I suppose Galaxy going monthly means Fred now has two vehicles for serials.

In any case, this is another strong issue for IF. Fred’s probably worked through the dross he’d already bought before the demise of Worlds of Tomorrow and now doesn’t need to buy filler. I hope having more pages to fill every month with 50% more Galaxy doesn’t change that.

Oh, dear. Are we going back to The Reefs of Space? Well, new Delany and Chandler is good.




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Magazine, Science Fiction/Fantasy, Serial

[December 2, 1966] Mixed Bags (January 1967 IF)

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by David Levinson

November was no more or less eventful than most months, but nothing really caught my eye. The Republicans made modest gains in the mid-term elections, California elected a so-so actor as governor and New Orleans is getting a football team in what certainly looks like recompense to Representative Hale Boggs and Senator Russell Long for shepherding the merger of the American and National Football Leagues through Congress. But there’s really nothing there to talk about. So, as with the last time this happened, let’s talk about the art.

Art matters

Regular readers of this column will know that I am often less than complimentary to the art in IF, especially the interior illustrations. There have been some changes in Fred Pohl’s stable of artists over the last year, some, but not all, for the better. John Giunta seems to have disappeared entirely, but several artists have stepped in to fill his shoes. We’re seeing a lot more from Wallace Wood and his assistant and imitator Dan Adkins, neither of whom is all that good, despite their years in the industry. On the other hand, Virgil Finlay has returned after a long absence, and he’s one of the best in the business.

We’re also seeing more of the mononymous Burns after a short absence. Unfortunately, his current style seems to combine the worst of Nodel and Giunta (and I like Giunta’s work generally). This month brings us a new artist: Vaughn Bodé. His figures are a bit cartoony, but not objectionable. I also like his landscape and VTOL aircraft. I won’t be sorry if we see more of his work.

A return to form

Something of a mixed bag in this month’s IF. A decent end to one serial and a promising start to a new one. A silly story and something experimental from established writers. Let’s take a closer look.


Just for a change, the cover actually depicts something inside. Art by Morrow

The Iron Thorn (Part 1 of 4), by Algis Budrys

Honor (pronounced “honner”) White Jackson is pursuing a bird-like Amsir across a red desert. As long as he wears his pointed metal cap and maintains line-of-sight to the Iron Thorn, he will be warm and able to breathe the thin air. If he can make his kill and bring it home, he will become a full-fledged Honor. Surprisingly, his quarry carries a metal spear (his own equipment is made largely of Amsir parts) and speaks, ordering him to yield when it thinks it has the upper hand.

On his way back, he is met by his older brother Black, who cautiously tests his reaction to the discoveries he has made. Disturbed by what he has learned, White (now Secon Black) enters the Iron Thorn for the first time and speaks with the Eld Honor, who says he may have what it takes to become Eld himself one day. Our protagonist comes to the conclusion that if he stays, he will be killed, and so, after giving a drawing of an armed Amsir to a girl he’s had his eye on, he sets out into the desert to be captured by an Amsir. He succeeds after killing the man who killed his father (making him Red Jackson) and is taken to a giant dish-shaped valley, filled with green plants and air dense enough to let the Amsir fly. There is also an Iron Thorn at its center, upright and shining, unlike the one his people call home. A vision of his people’s heaven, Ariwol. To be continued.


Honor White Jackson chases his prey, but who is hunting whom? Art by Gray Morrow

Last month, I noted that I’ve never really enjoyed Budrys’s work, but was pleased to learn that I liked his story in that issue. The streak continues. There’s an awful lot packed into these 35 or so pages, but it mostly works. The exposition, in particular, is a masterpiece of “show, don’t tell”. Parts of it are a bit rushed; the protagonist goes through three names (and has a secret fourth, Jim), and his decision that his life is in danger seemed precipitous. Maybe that will be fleshed out more if this appears as a novel. It’s a good start, though, and I look forward to more.

A solid three stars.

A Hair Perhaps, by J. F. Bone

Major William Bruce has arrived at the remote, top secret tracking station where he will spend the next two weeks all alone. When he is kidnapped, along with his living quarters, by aliens who plan to use him as their first test subject to determine if humans are worth enslaving, he has to find a way to defeat them with the limited tools at hand.


Two examples of Bodé’s art I mentioned earlier. I like the first one, but the figures need a little work, especially the human. Art by Vaughn Bodé

It’s been a few years since we saw anything from Bone. Unfortunately, like his last offering, this one is a stinker. Not as bad as “For Service Rendered”, but not up to his usual quality by a long shot. Bruce is thoroughly unpleasant (and explicitly stated to be so in the text), and the whole story is in service of a weak punchline.

Two stars.

– Still More Fandoms, by Lin Carter

Our Man in Fandom picks up where he left off and gives us some more fandoms that appeal to many science fiction fans. He starts off with one of the biggest groups, the Baker Street Irregulars, devoted to Sherlock Holmes, moves on to a couple of fellows in Missouri who are trying to start a fan group dedicated to James Branch Cabell, and on to the well-established Oz fandom. He finishes up with a look at the somewhat fragmented comics fan groups. Contact information is provided for the Cabell group and a couple of comics groups.

Three stars.

The Scared Starship, by D. M. Melton

Mars has been divided between the western and Sino-Sov blocs, with some neutral territory where finds must be shared. Rainbow Smith tells us how the group he was exploring with found a dead alien and a starship. The captain and the geologist rescue the find from the machinations of the evil Mao Lee, but it’s computer specialist Margot Harris who figures out how to get to the starship and win it over for the “good guys”.


Brains and beauty, but I don’t know how she gets all that hair in her helmet. Art by Nodel

Melton’s biggest problem thus far has been the handling of female characters. That’s largely corrected here, though there is one passage that feels more like “how men think women think”. Unfortunately, we have a nasty bit of Yellow Peril storytelling in the vicious Mao Lee (and an accompanying picture by Nodel). The whole Cold War tension subplot could have been dropped, leaving a decent problem story.

A low three stars.

By the Seawall, by Robert Silverberg

A great stone wall, sixty meters high and twenty meters thick, extends six thousand kilometers along the Eastern seaboard to protect humanity from the monsters which have risen from the sea. Micha-IV is an artificial person whose job is to patrol a one kilometer section of the wall, triggering additional defenses against monsters that scale the wall, reporting damage and also conducting tours. Suddenly, people have begun jumping off the wall, with or without a parachute; suicide either way. Micha-IV struggles to understand.

This can best be summed up as Robert Silverberg writes a J. G. Ballard story. How you feel about both those writers will probably determine how you feel about the story. I like Silverberg and don’t care for Ballard, but I can see that others might enjoy this.

Three stars.

On the Shallow Seas, by Robert Mason

Lant is a convict on the prison world of Exonam. Prisoners spend their days harvesting golden oysters. Fail to meet your quota of meat and you don’t eat, but find a rare gold pearl and you’ll be pardoned.


The “oysters” aren’t much like Earth shellfish. Art by Burns

Mason is this month’s new author. There’s enough here that shows promise. Line by line, the writing is good, though we’re treated to almost every prison story cliche there is. My biggest problem is the use of gold as the plot's linchpin. There’s no real reason for it to be that valuable. Mason would have been better served by using something much scarcer or making up his own element or alloy.

A low three stars.

The Impersonators, by C. C. MacApp

Inspector Kruger of the Interstellar Division has been sent to the planet Phrodd to arrest the embezzler Borogrove O’Larch. It’s diplomatically sensitive, because Phrodd is an alien world, so Kruger will have to step carefully. The locals are also perfect mimics, and O’Larch has hired a lot of them to pretend to be him. Kruger is soon at his wits’ end.

I usually groan when I see MacApp’s name and breathe a small sigh of relief when I see it’s not a Gree story. I sighed too soon. MacApp does not have a hand for humor. Laumer or Goulart could have had moderate success with this, but the story here is just plain bad.

Two stars.

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

A group of strange young people have come from the future to witness the Great Fire of Shuteley. They also have an interest in Val Mathers and his cousin Jota. Now trapped in the heart of the fire storm in a protective dome set to disappear at dawn, Miranda guides Val through his memories of Jota to help him understand what they hope to do. All his life, two things have been true for Jota: people who got in his way died, and he could have any woman he wanted.

In Miranda’s day, some three percent of people have the Gift, and they’re making society ungovernable. The much smaller percentage who are immune aren’t enough to stop them. Miranda and her team have come to the past to save Jota’s life in the hope that will eliminate the Gift, but they’ve failed. However, by convincing Val that he can have children without them turning out mentally handicapped like his younger sister, Miranda has accidentally succeeded. Now, Val and his sister just need to survive the collapse of the dome. Can Miranda meet the price he demands?


Val and Greg fight for the future. Art by Gaughan

And so McIntosh brings everything to a reasonably satisfying conclusion. There’s a small flaw in the plot, in that Jota has no children and so his death ought to have eliminated the Gift. But there’s a bite in the final paragraph that more than compensates for any weaknesses elsewhere.

Three stars for this installment and for the novel as a whole.

Summing up

After last month’s excellent outing, this issue is something of a return to form. The serials are the main reason to read the magazine, and the stuff in between is average at best. Next month we have the continuation of the Budrys novel, which is promising, as is a new Niven tale. A new Retief could go either way. But the March issue will have a contribution from every winner of a professional Hugo at TriCon: Asimov, Ellison, Herbert and Zelazny, plus a cover by Frazetta. So we’ve got that to look forward to.




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Magazine, Science Fiction/Fantasy, Serial

[May 2, 1966] By Any Other Name (June 1966 IF)

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by David Levinson

That which we call a purge

Successful revolutions often seem to devolve into vicious internal fighting as various factions turn on each other. Many of us are old enough to remember Stalin’s purges in 1937, and I’m sure we all remember learning about the Reign of Terror during the French Revolution when we were in school. Now it looks as though China may be gearing up for some purges of its own.

The five year plan of 1958, dubbed the Great Leap Forward, proved to be a disaster. The plan’s policies produced three years of famine, killing an untold number of people. As a result, Communist Party Chairman Mao Tse-tung stepped back and left the day-to-day running of the country to Liu Shao-ch’i and Teng Hsiao-ping. But Mao may be attempting to seize the reins of power once again.

Last November, an opera by a playwright named Wu Han was attacked as being subversive and critical of Mao’s leadership. On April 10th, the Communist Party issued a directive that condemned almost all literature written since the end of the revolution as “anti-party and anti-socialist.” Every author and poet is now considered suspect. Six days later, poet and journalist Teng T’o was chastised as counterrevolutionary in the official government newspaper. On the 18th, the new movement was given a name in the army’s daily newspaper: the Great Socialist Cultural Revolution. Now, President Liu Shao-ch’i, Mao’s chosen successor, has been publicly criticized as a capitalist and insufficiently supportive of Mao. I’d say the purges are about to begin. It remains to be seen just how bad they will be.


Chairman Mao Tse-tung (r.) and President Liu Shao-ch’i (l.) meet last year with Prince Sihanouk of Cambodia (in the dark jacket).

Smells, sweet and otherwise

This month’s IF offers a mixed bouquet. Overall, it’s visually disappointing, and a couple of the blossoms really could have used a different name.


This allegedly illustrates “The Weapons That Walked”. It doesn’t. Art by McKenna

Mandroid, by Piers Anthony, Robert E. Margroff and Andrew J. Offutt

In the forests of Oregon, the last two humans left alive, Bill Jackson and Tony Baker, finish killing the last android. The androids were created as servants, but were made to be stronger, faster and maybe smarter. Eventually, a war of extinction broke out when the androids asked for equality. Suddenly, the narrative is interrupted by a click, and strange voices which speak in the present/past/future ponder their failure in getting Man and Android to mate. And the story begins again from a little earlier. And so it goes, each time getting a little closer to success, but ending in failure. Finally, one of the strange voices concocts a dangerous plan. If it fails the fabric of TimeSpace will be/is/was ripped beyond repair.


Bill and Tony are observed from outside of time and space. Art by Gaughan

Mandroid sounds like a B-movie from a decade ago. And with three authors, you wouldn’t be at all surprised by something that schlocky. While Margroff only has the sub-par “Monster Tracks” to his credit, and I’ve not read either of the stories credited to Andy Offutt, Anthony (a Cele Lalli discovery) has produced some good work. Maybe it’s his hand that keeps all these cooks from spoiling the broth. This is a good story with a couple of flaws that keep it from reaching four stars. The first is the heavy-handed Biblical allusions at the end; the second, unless I’m reading something that isn’t there, is the veiled hints at Bill’s sexuality that promote some unpleasant stereotypes.

Three stars.

Fandom U. S. A., by Lin Carter

This month, Our Man in Fandom takes a look at fan clubs. Carter takes a quick look at some of the better known clubs on the east and west coasts and in the mid-west, and then talks about what happens at meetings, whether they be formal or informal. It’s a handy resource that could help a lot of people in the States to find a club near them and maybe encourage others to start a club. Plus, Carter finally has a handle on his voice.

Three stars.

The Weapons That Walked, by D. M. Melton

Explorer Joe Hanley’s landing craft fails on the way down to Kast III, and he’s forced to bail out. Unfortunately for Joe, the scouting group on Kast IV is in even worse shape, and the main ship has to go to their aid first. Joe is going to have to make do on his own for several days. Fortunately for Joe, he grew up among the redwoods of northern California and he’s one of the few nature-lovers left. He’s got a plan and this planet might be just what he’s looking for. But then the animals in the area start acting as though they’re being directed by some greater intelligence.


Joe encounters a local predator. Art by Adkins

From the title, you’d expect something from 1926, illustrated by Frank R. Paul, that Joe Ross would think twice about before reprinting it in Amazing. It’s better than that. This is Melton’s second story, following “The Fur People”. Like that story, it’s fairly unobjectionable and shows promise. Better, the female character actually has a name. Showing promise is all well and good, but Melton needs to improve if he wants to stick around.

A low three stars.

The Dream Machine, by Carol Easton

Harry Carver invents a machine that allows users to have extraordinarily real dreams of the things they want. There are consequences.

Easton is this month’s first-time author. I’m not impressed. There are one or two decently written passages, but that’s it. There aren’t really any characters, there’s no actual story (just a recounting of events) and it’s painfully obvious where things are going.

Two stars.

Sweet Reason, by Christopher Anvil

Dr. Garvin, a human psychologist, has come to observe the work of Centran military psychologist Major Poffis. The Centrans have astonishingly high success rates, achieved quickly. Garvin observes the Major treating a patient and the two discuss the theory and practice of psychology. Are human and Centran approaches compatible?


The Centran patient, prior to his treatment. Art by Nodel

Why wasn’t this in Analog? I’m sure I’ve read most of the criticisms of psychology as a science in Campbell’s editorial rants, and the quality is about what Campbell usually gets out of Anvil. A couple more stories like this and we can officially say that Campbell has ruined Anvil as a writer.

Two stars.

Earthblood (Part 3 of 4), by Keith Laumer and Rosel G. Brown

When last we left our hero, Roan’s ship had been disabled by a Niss warship, he had shot his mentor and now had to leave behind his only friend, Iron Robert, who can’t fit into a lifeboat. Under Roan’s leadership, the crew is able to board the Niss ship, only to find it uninhabited. It was the automatic defenses that destroyed Henry Dread’s ship. Fortunately, there is another Terran ship aboard for Roan and his crew to commandeer.

Roan’s first stop is his homeworld. He learns of his mother’s death, but is able to track down his family’s Yill servant. He makes his way to the shop where his parents bought his embryo and learns he was the only viable embryo out of several. He also finds out he came from an ITN experimental station on Alpha Centauri. That means a very long run through backwater territory to find out where he came from.

Nearly a decade later, he and his crew reach his destination. Roan would like to go on alone, but his three most loyal crewmen insist on accompanying him. Eventually, they reach naval headquarters on Nyurth. It turns out that the Imperial Terran Navy has grown decadent and is riven by factions. Most notably, Captain Trishinist believes Roan to be part of a large conspiracy to assassinate Admiral Starbird and seize control of the navy. The Admiral has grown old in service, but still has a plan and a hidden fleet to retake Earth. Time and politics have kept him from ever carrying it out. Now he places it all in Roan’s hands. That evening, Commodore Quex tries to arrest Roan, but Roan and his crew escape easily. To be concluded.


Roan leads with his left. I picked this one as representative of how bad the art is. Art by Wood

Well, this is a big improvement over the last two installments. It’s not without its flaws. When Roan learns that the family servant was originally part of the group sent to acquire his embryo, he fails to ask who hired them. There is also some confusion about time. The run to Alpha Centauri is nearly ten years, but Roan says it’s been four years since Dread’s death. In addition, there are inconsistencies in the relationships and communications between Naval HQ at the end and Rim HQ, which Dread worked for. Hopefully, those things will be cleared up by an editor before book publication.

Despite those flaws, this is a very good installment and gives me hope for the story as a whole. Laumer is much more present this time, in the various military plans and action sequences. But what makes it better is all Rosel Brown. Roan is greatly matured here, more introspective, and the story is improved for it.

Four stars.

By Mind Alone, by Larry Niven

In 1972, a group of UCLA students who have learned the mental power of teleportation and the professor who taught them are having a weekend party in Lake Arrowhead, up in the San Bernardino mountains. When the cigarettes run out, they can’t get more, because it’s Sunday and the stores are all closed, so their hostess teleports back to her parent’s home in Hermosa Beach. But when she arrives, she is stricken by an almost fatally high fever, which quickly diminishes. The professor puts a halt on all teleportation until they can figure out what happened. Have they violated some heretofore unknown law of the universe, or are they being punished for hubris?

Niven has given us a decent little problem story. He’s clearly inspired by Alfred Bester’s The Stars My Destination and, not to give too much away, if he’s right, then Gully Foyle would be nothing more than some soot and a thin smear of organic matter after his first jaunt. I think the “magic” method of teleportation weakens the story somewhat, but it’s still a fun read. I’d like to see how someone using a more scientific approach would solve the problem revealed here.

Three stars.

Summing Up

A rose, Shakespeare says, by any other name would smell as sweet. But if it were called a dungflower, might those who stopped to smell it find the scent sweeter, because of low expectations, or maybe not as sweet, since something with that name can’t possibly smell good? I find myself wondering how much my opinions of the first two stories are influenced by their B-movie and Gernsbackian titles. What we call a thing can make a difference, and boy do those stories need to be called something else.

On the art front, Galaxy Publishing needs some new blood. The sub-par comic book stylings of Wally Wood and Dan Adkins are a waste of space and ink. Jack Gaughan’s abstract elements and heavy blocks of black are often oppressive and rarely fit the mood of the story they illustrate. When Norman Nodel produces the best illustrations in your magazine, it’s time for a change.


Been a while since we’ve seen something from Blish.




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Magazine, Serial

[June 2, 1965] Heck in a Handbasket (July 1965 IF)

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You don't want to miss this week's episode of The Journey Show, with a panel of professional space historians while Gemini 4 orbits overhead! Register now!


by David Levinson

May has been a chaotic month. War – and not just in the places you might be aware of – unrest, political ups and downs. I’ve frequently found myself thinking of the opening stanza of W. B. Yeats’s marvelous The Second Coming. Hopefully, no rough beasts are slouching anywhere.

Signs of War

The month got off to a bad start in the wee hours of the first when Communist and Nationalist Chinese naval forces clashed off the coast of Tungyin Island. The next day, President Johnson went on television to explain the American invasion of the Dominican Republic. There, at least, American troops have since begun to be replaced by OAS forces.

Less well-known to American readers, though perhaps known to our British audience and certainly to those in Australia, is the ongoing conflict on the island of Borneo. For the last couple of years as part of granting former colonies their independence, the United Kingdom has been working to establish the nation of Malaysia on the Malay Peninsula and nearby islands which have been under British control. Some of those areas are in northern Borneo, and President Sukarno of Indonesia would prefer that all of Borneo, at the very least, go to his country. There have been several skirmishes between British and Malaysian forces on the one side and the Indonesian army on the other. Australian forces have borne the brunt of much of the fighting. Just last week, units of the 3rd Battalion of the Royal Australian Regiment crossed into Indonesian territory and clashed with Indonesian troops along the Sungei Koemba river. This looks to be the first move in a larger effort, and we can expect further fighting through the summer.


Private Neville Ferguson of the 3RAR patrols near the Sarawak-Kalimantan border

Signs of Unrest

On May 5th, several hundred people carried a black coffin to the draft board in Berkeley, California in a protest march against U.S. involvement in the Dominican Republic. Once there, 40 young men, mostly students at the university, burned their draft cards. On May 22nd, another protest march descended on the Berkeley draft board. This time, 19 men burned their draft cards, and LBJ was hanged in effigy. This second march was likely protesting American involvement in Viet Nam.

Another form of protest has been sweeping American university campuses: the teach-in. Back in March, some 50 professors at the University of Michigan at Ann Arbor planned a one day strike to protest the war in Viet Nam. Facing opposition from Governor George Romney and the legislature, they turned it into an all-night event featuring debates, lectures, films and music. It was dubbed a “teach-in,” the name being modeled on the sit-ins of the civil rights movement.

Several more of these events have taken place on college campuses around the country since then. A teach-in at the University of California at Berkeley on May 21st-22nd drew a crowd estimated at 30,000 people. (Honestly, if they’re not careful, that town’s going to get a reputation.) Speakers included Dr. Benjamin Spock, Norman Mailer, comedian Dick Gregory, several members of the California Assembly, journalist I. F. Stone, Mario Saavio of the Free Speech Movement (as you might expect), and many others. Expect to see more of these when people go back to university in the fall.


Folk singer Phil Ochs performs at the Berkeley teach-in

Signs of Peace?

Paraphrasing Winston Churchill, Harold Macmillan once said, “Jaw, jaw is better than war, war.” As ineffective as the Corps Diplomatique Terrestrienne might be, even Retief would probably agree with the sentiment. There has been good and bad news on the diplomatic front in the last month. West Germany formally established diplomatic relations with Israel on May 12th. Of course, Saudi Arabia, Syria, and Iraq promptly broke off relations with West Germany in retaliation. Cambodia also broke off diplomatic relations with the United States on May 3rd. Detractors say it was because Newsweek ran an article accusing Prince Sihanouk’s mother of engaging in various money-making schemes. It probably had more to do with American bombing raids on North Vietnamese supply lines running through Cambodian territory. Hmmm, I guess that’s mostly bad news.

Signs of Improvement

And in the realm of science fiction, particularly my little corner of the Journey, I have good news: while the quality of IF had shown a noticeable decline of late, there’s quite an uptick with this month's issue.


Abe Lincoln goes spearfishing in “The Last Earthman”. Art by McKenna

Research Alpha, by A. E. van Vogt and James H. Schmitz

Barbara Ellington is a typist at Research Alpha, a private research and development firm. She works directly for the number two man at the company, John Hammond, as an assistant to his secretary Helen Wendell. While she is getting some water from a drinking fountain, Dr. Henry Gloge, head of the biology division, secretly injects her with his current project, the Omega serum. Gloge also injects her boyfriend, Vince Strather, a hot-headed young man who is pressuring her towards “premarital intimacy”.

Through a meeting between Hammond and Gloge, we learn that the Omega Point Stimulation project is intended to push an organism through a million years of evolution over a course of four injections. Thus far, none of the test subjects – all giant salamanders known as hellbenders – has survived the third injection, and very few have survived even the second. Gloge is convinced that he would have more success with higher order animals. That is the reason he has abandoned proper research protocols and injected Barbara and Vince, both of whom he is ready to kill if either of them reacts badly.

Barbara responds well, while Vince does not. Hammond and Wendell begin to notice strange readings on a scale the reader is not privy to. There is clearly more to these two than meets the eye, and they appear to have connections around the world. Meanwhile, Barbara figures out what’s going on and begins to take control of her fate.


Does anyone else expect to see James Bond walk into that circle, turn and shoot? Art by Gaughan

The blurb on the cover claims this story is written by “[t]wo of science fiction’s greatest writers”. That’s overstating the case to the point of outright falsehood. Van Vogt is a fairly polarizing writer. Some writers (Phil Dick and Harlan Ellison come to mind) and a segment of the fan community love his work, others hate it. Damon Knight, for example, absolutely savaged him back in 1945 in a review of The World of Null-A. His plots are flimsy and his characters paper thin. On top of that, he spent the better part of a decade selling Dianetics to gullible Angelenos, rather than writing. He kept his name in front of the fans through reprints and fix-ups and has only recently started writing again. Schmitz, on the other hand, is a sound writer who does very good characters and isn’t afraid to put women front and center. But somehow he doesn’t seem to stay on anyone’s radar between stories.

So, I came to this rather long piece with a great deal of trepidation. But I liked it a lot. At a guess, I’d say the basic plot is van Vogt’s and most of the writing is Schmitz’s. Sure, evolution absolutely doesn’t work that way, but this sort of thing has been a part of science fiction since at least Edmond Hamilton’s “The Man Who Evolved,” and we saw it not too long ago on The Outer Limits. Barbara could easily have been a victim who eventually drops the unworthy Vince for the handsome and charismatic John Hammond, the man who actually solves the problem. But she isn’t and she doesn’t. She takes charge, out-thinks the superman and wraps things up the way she wants. I wavered between giving this a high 3 or a low 4. After thinking about it, I decided that Barbara’s characterization is enough to put the story over the top. Four stars.

The Last Earthman, by Lester del Rey

A thousand years after the discovery of faster-than-light travel, the Earth is relegated to a myth, its name largely forgotten. That is because, soon after the human Diaspora into the galaxy, a war was fought on Earth that devastated the environment, leaving behind a few tens of thousands of survivors, whose fertility has gradually decayed.

Twenty years before the start of the story, Egon from the planet Dale crashed on Earth, finding a mere handful of survivors, though the planet itself is again bountiful. While traveling with them to the Ember Stake for one of their rituals, he fixed an ancient mechanism and awoke Herndon, a man who had been placed in suspended animation during the war. He was supposed to have awakened after a time to help put civilization back together, but something went wrong. Now, Egon, Herndon, and Cala, a sterile young woman, are the only ones left. They are returning to the Ember Stake so that Herndon can be placed back in suspended animation when he dies. As they approach, a ship appears in the sky.

This is a melancholy piece, but one tinged with hope. It’s also a reminder that del Rey can really write when he puts his mind to it. It’s hard to say more without giving the whole story away. A solid three stars.

The Fur People, by D. M. Melton

On Mars, there is enough air in the deep canyons and ancient seabeds to support life. The most important life form is a lichen from which it is possible to derive an anti-aging drug. This has brought the moss hunters. As in any gold rush, some men make their fortune, some manage to make enough to get by, while others barely scrape by and still others disappear entirely. The other life form of note is the rock puppies, cute and sociable little creatures that some find endearing and share food and water with, and others find annoying and use for target practice.

Moss hunter Bart “Lucky” Hansen, traveling with an orphaned rock puppy, is contemplating his route when he decides on a whim to take a risky shortcut across a high plateau. On the way, he encounters a young woman, clearly fresh from Earth, staggering across the desert. He rescues her and gets her to safety in a deep canyon. After explaining that she was attacked by a group of moss hunters, she hijacks Hansen’s sand car and heads for the nearest dome. Hansen is picked up by the group chasing her and travels with them until they catch up with the woman. Hansen then manages to get to her side, and the two of them try to figure out a way to escape.


The girl and Hansen meet again. Art by Giunta

Melton is this month’s first time author. It shows. The title, along with Hansen wondering why fur people are always nicer than skin people, really gives the game away. There’s also the fact that the young woman at the heart of this story never gets a name and is always referred to as “the girl”. (From this, I infer that the D in the author’s name is more likely to stand for Daniel than Dorothy.) Still, it’s not a bad first effort, and I wouldn’t mind seeing more from this author. A low three stars.

In Our Block, by R. A. Lafferty

Intrigued by the shanties that have sprung up on a dead-end block and the fact that a shack seven feet on a side put out enough 8” x 8” x 3’ cartons to fill a 40 foot trailer in one morning, Art Slick and Jim Boomer take a walk around the block. On the way, they meet several odd people.

That’s it. That’s the whole story. But it’s quintessential Lafferty. If you like Lafferty, you’ll like this story; if you don’t, you won’t. Three stars.

Wow, this is turning out to be a pretty good issue. What could possibly spoil it?

Skylark DuQuesne (Part 2 of 5), by E. E. Smith

Oh. Right. Sigh.

Seaton and Crane have commandeered the output of hundreds of planets and set up a production area covering ten thousand square miles to create defenses. Against one man. Seaton then interacts with several characters I presume are from the earlier novels. No point to it, just old familiar faces for the fans. Following all that, Seaton receives the message sent out by DuQuesne at the end of the last installment. After being filled in on DuQuesne’s encounter with the Llurdi, Seaton invites him to the Skylark of Valeron for further consultation.

Cut to the Jelmi, still fleeing the Llurdi. On the way, their senior scientist just happens to invent teleportation (as you do). Now they need to find a solar system emanating enough sixth-order energy to screen them from their enemies. After nearly a month of searching, the finally find the Earth’s solar system. Finding the Moon uninhabited, with only a couple of abandoned American and Russian outposts, they deem it suitable for their purposes, land in secret, and begin building a superdreadnaught (sic) to be called the Mallidaxian.

Then they kidnap an exotic dancer and a man she keeps running into by accident from a Florida beach. Why? Because they’re puzzled by her job and the Earth concept of shame. Then the Jelmi pat the couple on the heads, promise them a couple of quarts of diamonds as compensation, and send them home. After going on a bender, the two of them decide to contact a Norlaminian Observer, who kicks the problem upstairs until it reaches Dick Seaton. Now he knows about the Jelmi.

DuQuesne arrives at the Skylark of Valeron and is stunned by its size. Overcome with jealousy, he plans once again to destroy the Skylarkers and set himself up as emperor of a galaxy. Seaton hands over plans of his ship so that DuQuesne can build his own. Then DuQuesne uses a bit of subterfuge to send Seaton and company off to Galaxy DW-427-LU, which the Llurdi are worried about, while he runs off to make contact with the Jelmi.

Having done so, DuQuesne cons the Jelmi, who blithely hand over their plans for the teleporter and ask him to contribute to their genetic diversity (the old-fashioned way). Then it’s back to Earth where he hires half a dozen assassins. Finally, he catches up with the Skylark of Valeron and teleports his killers aboard. Fortunately for the good guys, the gravity aboard is set low for the comfort of some visitors. The killers are killed, and Seaton dives for a control helmet, suspecting rightly that DuQuesne is behind the attack. But at that moment a klaxon sounds. The Skylark of Valeron is under an attack so massive that its defensive screens will surely fail in a matter of seconds. To be continued.


Probably the Mallidaxian, but it could be DuQuesne’s Capital D. Art by Morrow

Last month, I said there was some decent line-by-line writing. Not this time. It’s full of lengthy and pointless digressions. That whole episode with the dancer goes on forever and is only there so that Seaton and DuQuesne can find out about the Jelmi without Seaton actually contacting them. Worse still, Marc DuQuesne goes from a marginally complex figure to an absolute mustache-twirling villain motivated entirely by jealousy and megalomania. But the thing that annoyed me most was the excessive use of the word “wherefore”. It crops up at least half a dozen times in the sense of “as a result” or “knowing that” and it limps badly. I stumbled over it every time. I think it’s a bit of antiquated slang usage and it’s bad. I still haven’t thrown the magazine across the room, so I guess this gets a very, very low two stars.

Summing Up

Other than the toxic exercise in nostalgia that pollutes the end, this is a pretty good issue. If we’re lucky, it’s an indication that IF is coming out of the doldrums. If we aren’t, it’s an indication that Fred Pohl knows how bad Skylark DuQuesne is and that a lot of readers aren’t going to be happy with the pages it’s taking up, wherefore and as a result he’s pulling out all the stops and running the very best stuff he has in the barrel as compensation. That could mean once this is over, he’ll have a lot of mediocrity that needs to run.




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