by David Levinson

La guerra del fútbol

Land reform has been a major issue in Central America since not long after the War. Honduras passed a land reform law in 1962 to take land illegally occupied by immigrants and squatters and give it to Hondurans. Most of the immigrants who have been displaced are Salvadorans, many of whom held their land legally. Thousands have been uprooted and sent back to El Salvador. Tensions between the two nations are high.

The two countries have also been vying for a spot in next year’s soccer World Cup. They faced each other twice in June, with the home team winning each time. Both events were marred by riots and other unpleasant incidents. On the eve of the playoff match in Mexico City on June 26th, El Salvador severed diplomatic ties with Honduras, claiming 12,000 Salvadorans had been forced to flee Honduras while the government did nothing.

Early July saw various border skirmishes, largely involving violation of air space. Honduras asked the Organization of American States to step in, but the OAS largely just dithered. On the 12th, Honduras claimed to have killed four Salvadoran soldiers on Honduran territory, and the next day six Honduran civilians were injured during an exchange of mortar fire.

War began on the evening of the 14th, when the Salvadoran air force launched a bombing raid on Honduran airfields. That was followed up by a two-pronged ground invasion. The Honduran air force struck back the next day, destroying 20% of El Salvador’s fuel reserves, but quickly fell back to a defensive posture. After early successes by El Salvador, both sides stalled due to a shortage of ammunition.

Salvadoran President and General Fidel Sanchez Hernandez inspecting the troops.

The OAS stepped in quickly after the war began and formed a committee to oversee the negotiation of a ceasefire. They were successful and a ceasefire was announced the evening of the 18th, going into effect at midnight. The Salvadoran army was given 96 hours to withdraw, but as the deadline approached they announced they were staying. They would respect the ceasefire, but demanded the Honduran government guarantee the safety of Salvadorans living in Honduras (300,000 people by some accounts, over 10% of the population of Honduras), the payment of reparations, and the punishment of the anti-Salvadoran rioters. At the time of writing, they are still in place. (As we go to press, El Salvador has withdrawn in the face of threatened sanctions by the OAS.)

It’s been a strange little conflict. The extensive air war was fought without a single jet, mostly P-51 Mustangs and F4U Corsairs. We’re not likely to see that again. Some are calling it the 100 Hour War, the length of time from the first bombing raid to the announcement of the ceasefire. Others are calling it the Football War (that’s soccer to Americans, Canadians, and Australians), reflecting some of the language used to report on the June matches and their role in escalating tensions. Whatever history knows it as, let’s hope it’s over.

The bad old days

For unstated reasons, IF failed to appear last month. It’s pretty clear that this September issue was intended to be dated August. If you look at the cover, you can see that the old month was overprinted with a black bar, and the new month was added below.

A robot carrying off a fainting human woman. It’s not as old-fashioned as you might think. Art by Chaffee

Brood World Barbarian, by Perry A. Chapdelaine

In the far future, our unnamed protagonist is captured on a primitive human world and brought to civilization to fight in the arena. There, he rises to Grand Champion, makes his escape, vows revenge, and winds up learning things.

Our hero digs his way through a mountain. Art by Gaughan, but uncredited

Chapdelaine writes well, and this is one of his better stories, but there are some caveats. First, he has a tendency to be long-winded, though when a writer is paid by the word, that’s to be expected. More he importantly, he nearly always writes stories about Van Vogt-style supermen, and that’s just not my bag. I’m also bored with future gladiatorial combat to the death, even if there is a reason for it here. It’s become a tired cliche.

Three stars.

And So Say All of Us, by Bruce McAllister

Art by Gaughan, but uncredited

Speaking of tired cliches, Bruce McAllister offers us a story of trying to find mental powers among the mentally ill. You’ll see where this one is going pages before it gets there. I think my problem with McAllister is his tendency to hint vaguely at depth and then suggestively waggle his eyebrows Groucho-like until you get it. He needs to dig into the depth more. This story, for example, would make an interesting first chapter to a novel or (significantly pared down) the first part of a novella or novelette that explores the consequences. He could be good, but he needs to put in more effort.

Three stars, but towards the lower end.

The Posture of Prophecy, by Chelsea Quinn Yarbro

Art uncredited

This month’s new author gives us a tale of aliens discussing the impossibility of life developing on what is obviously Earth. Not exactly a new idea, but it takes a not uninteresting, dark turn at the end. I wouldn’t mind seeing more from this author, though perhaps with a little more originality.

Three stars.

Robot 678, by E. Clayton McCarty

Another uncredited piece. The style is reminiscent of Gaughan, but isn’t signed.

A cantankerous old prospector, along with his antiquated robot, winds up as the administrator of a nearly empty planet, decides to bring the daughter-in-law and grandchildren he’s never seen to live with him, the kids get in trouble, and the titular robot saves the day. Not McCarty’s best work, though acceptable. But can we please stop looking at the antebellum South through rose-colored glasses? Replacing slaves with intelligent robots or supposedly barely intelligent aliens doesn’t make it better; it just dehumanizes the millions of Black people who were held in bondage. This is at least the third story in just the last month to play this game, and it needs to stop. I’m about ready for William Tecumseh Sherman to go marching through science fiction.

Barely three stars.

Star Seeder, by T.J. Bass

Humanity’s first probe of the Andromeda galaxy held the means to plant numerous human colonies through the use of human zygotes raised by computers. This rapid expansion is opposed and blocked by aliens known as Dregs to humanity and Symbiots to themselves, but they will allow one human to be aboard. Zuliani earns the right to be that person through his victory in the Procyon Games. Humanity may have a way to get around the Dreg ban.

Art uncredited, but both illustrations in the story are clearly by Gaughan, though unsigned.

Bass is a doctor, and his sophomore effort once again puts his medical knowledge to use, though less gruesomely than his debut. He writes very well, and if he can find the time to pursue the craft, he could be someone to watch. I was particularly impressed with the misdirection of the comparison between the highly competitive humans and the somewhat collectivist Symbiots. The story makes a very different and much better point than you might be expecting.

But once again, I find myself being put off by blood sports in the far future. The first round of the Procyon Games is a round-robin of all-out unarmed fights in which anything is allowed, including potentially lethal blows. The Competitors are able to heal themselves somewhat between bouts, but it’s about as effective as a boxer’s trainer using styptic pencil on a cut that will need stitches after a fight.

A slightly high three stars.

The Last True God, by Philip St. John

An expedition under religious authority is seeking proof of the 20,000 year-old legend of lost Earth. On a planet bombed back into primitive savagery 1,500 years ago, they find the locals worshiping what seems to be a long dead robot. Primitive doesn’t mean stupid, and appearances can be deceiving.

The scene from the cover again. Art uncredited, but could be Gaughan.

Here’s another hoary old theme from the pulp days, but it feels fairly modern (though not at all New Wave). I’m reasonably sure that St. John is a pseudonym for Lester del Rey; at least, a story that originally ran under that by-line appeared in a collection of del Rey stories a year or so ago. When he puts his mind to it, del Rey can write some very good stories. This is certainly in the upper half.

A high three stars.

The Story of Our Earth: 1. How Long Is the Past?, by Willy Ley

Willy Ley comes over from Galaxy to begin the promised series on the history of the planet. Here he discusses estimates of the age of the Earth, from the calculations of Rabbi Hillel and Bishop Ussher to to the most recent scientific proposals. Along the way, he also talks about how and when the various geologic ages were proposed. The difference between a work he has taken the time to polish thoroughly and something knocked out for his monthly column is clear.

Alas, Willy Ley died suddenly at the end of June, just as this issue was going to press. I suspect the delay in publication is the result of the editors dithering over what to do with the incomplete series. They’ve decided to run those installments which were already delivered.

Four stars.

Reading Room, by Lester del Rey

Normally, I wouldn’t cover a book review column, but this is a new feature for IF. When this was announced in the last issue, I wondered if we really needed another venue for reviews. What del Rey gives us is closer to critical analysis than reviews. More so even than the most incisive commentary from Judith Merrill. What this most reminded me of is the reviews Damon Knight used to do fifteen or twenty years and mined for his In Search of Wonder. If the column maintains this level of quality, it’s worth the loss of a story or two.

Not rated.

The Towns Must Roll (Part 2 of 2), by Mack Reynolds

The mobile town cum artists’ colony of New Woodstock is on its way to South America. Shortly after crossing into Mexico, town sheriff Bat Hardin ran into a conspiracy of locals unhappy with the influx of gringos. As this installment begins, Bat has warned the town of the threat, but they vote to continue. At first the threat seems empty, but after Bat lets his guard down, the town is lured into a trap.

The wagon train rolls into an ambush. Art by Gaughan

I enjoyed the first half of this story, but this half doesn’t live up to the promise. It’s fine, and the battle scene is good; there’s just not enough here to justify the length. The whole thing could have been told in two-thirds of the wordage or less. This is average Reynolds. There’s a hint we’ll see more of Bat in the future, and that wouldn’t necessarily be a bad thing. This one just ran out steam along the way.

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

The Cosmic Philosophy of K.E. Tsiolkovsky, by Alexis N. Tsevetikov

Tsiolkovsky is the father of Russian rocketry and is usually mentioned alongside Robert Goddard and Hermann Oberth. He also dabbled in philosophy, developing ideas that had as much to do with mysticism as rationality. Those ideas have been suppressed by the Soviet state as anti-materialist. This precis of his thought makes him sound like your everyday saucer nut.

Two stars.

Summing up

We’ve all been wondering what the changes in ownership and editor at IF and Galaxy will mean for the magazines. While some of Fred Pohl’s fingerprints are on this issue, we may be getting a clearer picture. Ejler Jakobsson’s first editorial for the magazine tells us that “IF is the magazine of infinite Alternatives.” I guess that means the science will be a little less “hard” than in Galaxy, but that’s all right. The letter col is given over to a letter by Anne McCaffrey in her role as SFWA Secretary asking a number of pertinent questions, all of which Jakobsson answers.

Reading the tea leaves from this issue, there’s a lot of non-fiction in a magazine that used to be exclusively fiction. I’ve had my say about the new book column. If the rest of Will Ley’s (sadly incomplete) series is as good as the first part, I’m all for it. But we could have done without the article on Tsiolkovsky’s nonsense.

On the art front, the illustrations are of the usual quality, but only the cover is credited. Most or all of the pieces are by Jack Gaughan, who is now on the masthead as Associate Art Director. I hope that doesn’t mean he’ll be the exclusive interior artist. I like his work, but I also like some variety. Either way, credit your artists!

A final hopeful note: In a conversation in the Journey offices, my colleague Kris rated Super Science Stories as the best magazine of the early 50s. Jakobsson was the editor for that incarnation of the magazine. Fingers crossed he can replicate that feat for the early 70s.

Every one of these authors is a coin flip when it comes to quality.