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Magazine

[January 17, 1963] Things of Beauty (February 1963 Fantasy and Science Fiction)

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[if you’re new to the Journey, read this to see what we’re all about!]


by Gideon Marcus

The beautiful and talented Betty White turned 41 today.  Of what is this apropos?  Nothing in particular.  Just a piece of pleasant news amidst all the Asian war talk and tax cut squabbling and racial disharmony one must contend with in the paper and on the TV.  Ms. White is always so charming and cheerful, but in an intelligent (not vapid) way.  She reminds me, in her own way, of Mrs. Traveler, this column's esteemed editor.  Though she, like Jack Benny, stopped aging at 39…

One entity that has not stopped aging, and whose aging I have whinged upon quite frequently, is Fantasy and Science Fiction, a magazine now in its 14th year and third editor.  Editor Avram Davidson has given me a decent issue this time around, for which I am grateful.  See if you enjoy the February 1963 Fantasy and Science Fiction as much as I did…

The Riddle Song, by Vance Aandahl

Young Mr. Aandahl continues to, after an auspicious beginning, produce stuff that disappoints.  I'm not sure of the point of this tale, about an old besotted bum with poems for anecdotes.  Perhaps you'll get the reference — I didn't.  Two stars.

Counter Security, by James White

Ah, now this is what I read sf for.  This largely autobiographical piece features a young, underemployed night watchman in a British department store who must solve the mystery of (what appears to be) a spiteful, peppermint chewing, floor-spitting, Black-hating skulker before the staff quit en masse from worry and fear.  I finished this novelette in one sitting on the beach at Waimea as the sun rose, and I'm not sure a more perfect half hour was ever spent.  Five stars.

Punk's Progress, by Robert Wallsten

A take on The Rake's Progress with a decidedly modern tone.  Nothing new, but the journey is fun.  Three stars.

Gladys's Gregory, by John Anthony West

A Modest Proposal meets marriage in suburbia.  A wicked piece, but kind of fun.  Three stars.

The Nature of the Place, by Robert Silverberg

Ever wonder where you go when you die?  What if your own personal hell is more of the same?  Of course, being a cup is half full sort of guy, that sounds more like the other place to me.  But I understand Silverbob is the melancholy type.  Three stars.

The Jazz Machine, by Richard Matheson

Don't let the poetic layout fool you — this is pure prose, but Matheson turns it into a song.  A harsh Blues song tinged with the pain of the oppressed.  Four stars.

The Lost Generation, by Isaac Asimov

In which the Good Doctor sidesteps his lack of knowledge of "Information Retrieval" to discuss the importance of networking — and recognizing opportunity when it bites you in the hinder.  It's about this history of the Theory of Evolution, by the way.  Four stars.

The Pleiades, by Otis Kidwell Burger

When immortality and beauty are universal, it takes a most unusual girlie show to make an impact.  This is the first story by Ms. Burger I really liked.  Four stars.

Satan Mekatrig, by Israel Zangwill

…and then the magazine slides downhill.  The bulk of the last quarter is taken up with this reprint from 1899, in which a hunchbacked Lucifer tempts the pious Moshe from his orthodoxy.  It's not bad, but it is dated and doesn't really belong in this magazine (though I can see why it appeals to Davidson).  Two stars.

Peggy and Peter Go to the Moon, by Don White

A trifle, written like a children's story but barbed like a cactus.  Fine for what it is, but not my thing.  Two stars.

3.1 stars!  It doesn't sound like much, but given F&SF's recent slump, this is a breath of fresh air.  Plus, five-star stories are quite rare.  Do check it out.

And, if you get the chance, come out this weekend for ConDor, a San Diego SFF convention at which yours truly will be presenting both Saturday and Sunday (the latter is the Galactic Journey panel). 

[P.S. If you registered for WorldCon this year, please consider nominating Galactic Journey for the "Best Fanzine" Hugo.  Check your mail for instructions…]




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Science / Space Race

[January 15, 1963] Venus' true face (Scientific Results of Mariner 2)

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[if you’re new to the Journey, read this to see what we’re all about!]


by Gideon Marcus

Remember five years ago, when Explorer 1 was launched?  At first, the big news was that America had answered Sputnik and joined the Space Age, but it soon became clear that the flight had larger significance.  For Explorer discovered the giant bands of hellish radiation that girdled the Earth, particles trapped by the Earth's magnetic field.  Until 1957, these "Van Allen Belts" had been virtually unsuspected.  With one flight, our conception of the universe had drastically changed.

It's happened again.

Mariner 2 is humanity's first successful mission to another planet, and the scientific harvest is absolutely enormous.  Moreover, thanks to recent changes in policy, the initial results of this harvest were released unprecedentedly quickly (scientists are now reporting upon submission and acceptance of papers rather than publication).  Just one month since the probe's encounter with Venus, the flood of information has been almost too much to parse; nevertheless, I think I've gotten the broad strokes:

Getting there is half the fun

Before I talk about Mariner's encounter with Venus, it's important to discuss what the spacecraft discovered on the way there.  After all, it was a 185 million mile trip, most of it in interplanetary space charted but once before by Pioneer 5.  And boy, did Mariner learn a lot!

For instance, it has finally been confirmed that the sun does blow a steady stream of charged particles in a gale known as the "Solar Wind."  The particles get trapped in Earth's magnetic field and cause, among other things, our beautiful aurorae. 

Mariner also measured the interplanetary magnetic field, which is really the sun's magnetic field.  It varies with the 27-day solar rotation, and if we had more data, I suspect the overall map of the field would look like a spiral. 

Why is all this important?  Well, aside from giving us an idea of the kind of "space weather" future probes and astronauts will have to deal with, these observations of the sun's effect on space give us a window as to what's going on inside the sun to generate these effects. 

One last bit: along the way, Mariner measured the density of "cosmic dust," little physical particles in space.  It appears that there's a lot of it around the Earth, perhaps trapped by our magnetic field, and not a lot in space.  It may be that the solar wind sweeps the realm between the planets clean.

Unattractive planet

Given how magnetically busy the Earth is, and since Jupiter fairly crackles on the radio band thanks to its (likely) magnetic dynamo, one would expect Venus to impact its local space environment.  Nope.  In fact, Mariner 2 flew past the second planet without detecting a trace of Venusian magnetic field, nor any concentration of space dust around the planet.  Now, it's possible that Venus has a weak field, or that its field is so oddly shaped that Mariner just hit a low patch, but the simplest explanation is usually the right one — Venus has no magnetic field.

Taking her temperature

Right up until December 14, some scientists (and many writers!) had held out hope that the thick clouds of Venus hid a reasonably hospitable surface, potentially teeming with life.  Earth-based sensors had indicated that the Venus was unbearably hot, but such could be explained by an unusually active Venusian ionosophere.  But as Mariner 2 turned its microwave and infrared radiometers across the face of Venus, it was clear that the edges of the planet were cooler than the center.  This is what one would expect from a hot surface, cooler atmosphere; the reverse would be expected of the "hot ionosphere" model.

So how hot is Venus?  At least 400 degrees Kelvin (260 degrees Fahrenheit), and probably a lot more.  There's no way there is any liquid water under that hellish greenhouse of carbon dioxide.  Moreover, it's not any nicer at night time.  There appears to be no real difference in temperature between the illuminated and dark halves of Venus, probably for the same reason the Earth's oceans run a fairly consistent temperature – Venus' atmosphere is thick enough for efficient distribution of warmth. 

Amtor dispelled

Mariner 2 and terrestrial radar have determined that the Venusian day incredibly long (~250 days, backward with respect to the other planets), but the Venusian winds blow across the planet far faster than the planet rotates; clouds have been seen racing around the disk of Venus in just 4-5 days.  Recent radar observations indicate that Venus's surface is smoother than that of the Earth or the Moon. 

This, then, is our new picture of Venus.  It is a truly hellish place, more worthy of its less common moniker, Luciferos — a bleak, half-lit world scoured by hurricane-strength sandstorms hot enough to melt lead.  Bradbury's All Summer in a Day, not to mention Burroughs' "Venus" series', will need some serious revision. 

Details, details

One of the nice things about sending a probe far from Earth is it allows for more accurate measurement of basic units – like the distance of the Earth and Venus from the sun.  This will help in future expeditions, manned and unmanned.  Another bit of bounty from Mariner's flight is a refinement of the mass of Venus.  It is 81.485% that of Earth – one of the few ways Venus remains "Earth's Twin."

What's next?

Opportunities to explore Venus occur every 19 months, when the second and third planets of the solar system are aligned in their orbits for easy travel.  Mariner 2 was so successful in its mission that NASA has canceled plans for a repeat flight in 1964.  Rather, the space agency will focus on Mars that year and follow up with Venus later, perhaps 1965. 

One reason to launch a new probe to Venus sooner rather than later is, despite the wealth of information passed back by Mariner 2, we did not get a single photograph of the planet.  That's because the spacecraft was too small to carry the transmitting equipment required to send back pictures from so far away.  But by '65, the new Centaur booster stage will have replaced the weaker Agena, which will allow a beefier payload. 

In the meantime, telemetry is worth a thousand pictures.  For now, let us revel in this scientific bonanza. Venus may not be a great place to live, but visiting has paid off tremendously.


(that's rolls of data, not paper towels)

[P.S. If you registered for WorldCon this year, please consider nominating Galactic Journey for the "Best Fanzine" Hugo.  Check your mail for instructions…]




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Magazine

[January 10, 1963] (February 1963 Galaxy)

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[if you’re new to the Journey, read this to see what we’re all about!]


by Gideon Marcus

The Traveler family has now been on the island of Kaua'i (in the newest state of the Union, Hawai'i) for five days, and I can feel the shackles of the mainland loosening.  We are staying in a vacant worker cottage on the Waimea Sugar Plantation, guests of one of the manager's, and it's just lovely.  Timeless beauty surrounds us.  There's no question but that this state is destined to be a tremendous tourist attraction some day – but I hope this island never loses its virgin charm.

It's hard to describe the relaxation that comes with visiting this sub-tropical paradise.  In the main room of our three-room cottage, the Young Traveler plucks away at her ukelele, singing Elvis' recent Hawai'ian hit, I can't help falling in love with you, and then the apt Jamaican Farewell popularized by Belafonte not long ago.  Last night, we were guests of the Gaylord family at their Kilohana estate.  After a sumptuous meal of meticulously prepared fish and delectable desserts (including a half-coconut), we dallied in the Sitting Room as one of the family played Scott Joplin tunes on the piano. 

Of course, even in this Westernmost bastion of America, modern civilization is encroaching.  We flew into the new small but international airport at Lihue (and commerce is already relocating from its traditional center here at Waimea to that burgeoning mini-city).  The grocery chain, Safeway, is building a supermarket on the island. 

And then there are the relics of the Mainland we've brought with us in the form of the books packed in our suitcases.  The Young Traveler has been devouring Dale Carnegie's classic, How to Win Friends and Influence People (Watch out World!), while I have just finished this month's Galaxy.

Its editor, Fred Pohl, has spilled much ink over the role of the science fiction writer.  He insists that our job is not to predict the future, and indeed, we're pretty bad at such things, statistically speaking.  Rather than saying, "This is what will happen," we really say, "This is what will happen if."

The timing is no coincidence.  The February 1963 Galaxy is filled with "what will happen ifs," — have a look:

Home from the Shore, by Gordon R. Dickson

Dickson's story asks, "What will happen if the nascent trend of undersea living is carried to its logical conclusion?"  The result is, as we've seen previously explored in The Underwater City, a nation of humans living underwater.  Living in Castle-Homes and Small-Homes on the ocean floor, some six million people, enhanced by genetics and technology, thrive alongside their dolphin companions.

It is an uneasy existence, the Landers resenting the independence of their former brethren (who they'd hoped to use primarily as stock for space exploration).  As Home from the Shore begins, one of the sea people's leaders, Johnny Joya is defecting from the astronaut corps to rejoin his people.  It turns out that the precipitous action is the spark that provokes war between the Landers and the mermen.  Willy-nilly, this fight will catapult the sea people to the next phase of their existence.

Dickson pens a vivid piece, but it feels more prologue than complete tale, and the details are a bit too oblique to follow in places.  In particular, I'm never quite sure just how life underwater works or how it's sustainable.  I found myself stalling at the beginning a number of times.  I think Shore earns three stars, but just barely.

Think Blue, Count Two, by Cordwainer Smith

This latest tale of the "Instrumentality," Smith's unique far future, explores the ramifications of centuries-long space flight given an unchanging temperament for humans.  How will we keep our sanity, our morality, when faced with the yawning vastness of space, divorced from the society that keeps us civilized.

Think Blue, Count Two is a sequel, of sorts, to The Lady who Sailed the Soul, which introduced us to the concept of interstellar sailing ships and deep frozen passengers.  This latest edition stars an ingenue colonist, chosen solely for her beauty, and details how she manages the increasingly neurotic attentions of her two male co-passengers.

It's another beautiful Smith tale, but Think Blue is less about what the protagonist does but what happens around and to her.  Riveting but somehow unsatisfying stuff.  Four stars.

For Your Information: First Flight by Rocket Power, by Willy Ley

To project where we're going, one has to know where we've come from.  This month's science department traces down the very first rocket powered human flight and then describes the important ones since.  Three stars.

(Anyone want to lay odds on whether the Russians will beat Gordo Cooper to be the first person in space in 1963?)

Comic Inferno, by Brian W. Aldiss

Aldiss makes a bold prediction in this story of robots and people: As life gets easy, our breeding instinct will wane, and a hundred years from now, the world will be a fraction as populated.  Mechanical people will fill in the gaps, being our servants and our underclass.  But what if the romen tire of their inferior position?

There are great concepts in here, but Comic Inferno is rather rough sledding, what with its Extremely British satirical style.  Much like the Dickson, it takes time to get into, but in retrospect, the trip was rewarding.  Three stars.

Pollony Undiverted, by Sydney J. Van Scyoc

Here is another journey into an indolent future, in which all needs are met save for the ones that matter most – those that give us emotional satisfaction.  Van Scyoc gives us a tale from a feminine perspective that captures the frivolity of existence and the fleeting nature of happiness in a world made infinitely small by teleportation.  Three stars.

Day of Truce, by Clifford D. Simak

Did you just put up a fence to keep tykes from riding their bicycles and scooters on your property?  Maybe a menacing "No Trespassing" sign?  What if these are the first unplanned shots in an escalating war between the Homeowners and the Punks?

Simak writes a fun, barbed story about a battle deep in the course of the conflict at a time when a man's home is truly a castle, and the teenage delinquents are armed with time bombs and Molotov cocktails.  Four stars.

The Bad Life, by Jerome Bixby

You may remember Bixby from his The Twilight Zone story, It's a Good Life.  His latest story shares no similarities but for the titles and the overwhelming sense of feeling trapped in a hellish situation.

John Thorens is a do-gooder, a Hand of the Helping Hands dispatched to the Jovian artificial moon/penal colony called Limbo to bring solace to the criminals living there.  The extrapolation in this piece is, "How would a first generation Australia in space treat a well-meaning vistor?" 

Not well.  An intellectual among boors, a civilized man among animals, Thorens is hounded and beaten to the point of insanity. 

This is a brutal story, difficult to read, made compelling by Bixby's sheer "writerliness" (as one of my readers might put it).  Not recommended for the easily disturbed, and perhaps Bixby overdoes the writing by 10%.  But it'll sure stay with you.  Three stars. 

And that's that.  A dense read, a hard read at times, but in many ways a rewarding one.  None of the futures depicted are pleasant ones, but they offer valuable signposts of potholes to avoid on the path of progress.

Next up – John Boston and this month's Amazing!

[P.S. If you registered for WorldCon this year, please consider nominating Galactic Journey for the "Best Fanzine" Hugo.  Check your mail for instructions…]




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Magazine

[Dec. 31, 1962] So it goes… (January 1963 Analog)

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[if you’re new to the Journey, read this to see what we’re all about!]


by Gideon Marcus

It is said that "No news is good news," but I imagine every publisher would disagree.  After the big-ticket headlines of October of November involving the Cuban and Chinese/Indian episodes things have quieted down on the domestic and world fronts.  The Cold War has thawed such that the only current evidence is a holey wall in Berlin and a small brushfire in Indochina.  The Katanga crisis in The Congo approaches resolution.  Even the latest manned space shot was a bore – six perfect orbits.  The biggest news is about something that hasn't happened yet: Kennedy wants to lower taxes significantly to spur the economy.  Of course, Conservatives oppose the move as they don't want to blow a hole in the deficit (a position I'm sure they will hold eternally).

This month's Analog, the last sf digest of the month, complements the news situation.  It's filled with pages and pages of pages, none of which will likely stick with you long after you set it down.  The stories in this month's issue don't even have the virtue of being terrible.  Just redolent in that smug mediocrity that so frequently characterizes this mag, once the flagship of science fiction.

"The Hard Way", by Gordon R. Dickson

An alien interstellar scoutship stumbles across a human derelict ship, spurring its captain, Kator, member of a rapacious felinoid race, to dream of conquest of the Earth.  Kator is dispatched to the solar system to surveil our defenses, find a weakness, and return to his homeworld to take charge of the invasion fleet. 

Kator finds Earth to be a curiously undefended planet, weapons seemingly nonexistent.  The cat-man finds this state improbable given our warlike history and quickly deduces that we store our weapons underground.  Thus ensues his mission of subterranean espionage, fraught with an increasingly difficult set of physical and mental challenges.  Is it just a run of bad luck?  Or a complicated trap set-up by the humans to evaluate would-be competitors?

Well, I won't leave you in suspense.  Campbell's the editor of Analog, and all of his stories feature Terran supremacy if he can help it.  As well-drawn as the first half this story is (Dickson really is an excellent author when he's not writing for Campbell), I just knew that it would end with a human waggling his superior finger at Kator, lecturing the felinoid that trying to subjugate Earth is a fool's errand. 

Setting aside the utter implausibility of the story, which requires an omniscience even Campbell's humans shouldn't be capable of, this kind of fatuous tale sticks in my craw.  Two stars.

Philosopher's Stone, by Christopher Anvil

Who will win the economic Cold War between the US and USSR?  It turns out it's the UK, which brings nobility and social stratification back as rewards for effecting (but not inventing) technological advance.  Because, apparently, money just isn't enough incentive. 

This paean to aristocracy, particularly the self-satisfied ending, isn't worth your time.  Two stars.

The Common Man, by Guy McCord

Three biochemists in concert discover a serum of invisibility.  One wants to give the formula to the the government, another feels the secret too dangerous to communicate.  The third proposes an experiment: under controlled conditions, provide the serum to an average American and see what he does with it.

Well, as one might expect, the power of complete stealth proves too heady a temptation for mortals.  The ambitious guinea pig uses his abilities to amass great wealth, build a criminal network, and capture the scientist trio.  His plan is nothing less than global domination.  Only the ingenuity of the scientists and the carelessness of the test subject put an end to the frightening turn of events.

I feel that this story could have said so much more than it did.  What could have been a horrifying illustration of the corruption of absolute power, or an illustration of how science (so often perceived as the unalloyed agent of positive progress) is often the handmaiden to misery, is reduced to a pat "eggheads really are the smart ones" piece.  It's a pity.  I've seen better from this author.  Well, not quite this author – "Guy McCord" is a new name to me, but given that "Mack" Reynolds' full name is Dallas McCord Reynolds, I'm pretty sure The Common Man is by the Analog regular who gave us the (much better) Mercenary.  Three stars.

The Search for Our Ancestors, by Prof. G. M. McKinley

We have learned so much about the evolution of humans recently, thanks to the work of Leakey's archaeology in Africa (and to some extent, Goodall's work with chimpanzees, too).  McKinley's article is a fascinating but sloppy summary of the current state of understanding in the field.  Three stars.

Space Viking (Part 3 of 4), by H. Beam Piper

Last up is the next segment in Piper's answer to Asimov's Foundation, in which the wreckage of the Old Federation is slowly knit back together by Prince Trask, Space Viking of planet Tanith.  This installment retains the same positives and negatives of the prior two: an interesting universe and plot marred by sketchy execution (almost an outline of a story) and a jarring paucity of female characters.  I'm still rankling at Piper's killing of Trask's bride, Elaine, in the first act of the novel to provide Trask with character motivation.  I will say concede, however, that the introduction of the young Crown Princess of Marduk in this episode is promising.  Three stars.

This being the last magazine for the month, we now can review the numbers for January 1963.  IF comes up the winner at 3.3 stars, while Amazing (3 stars) had the two best stories one of them being the only woman-penned story.  F&SF was the worst, at 2.3 stars.  Average for the entire month was a dreary 2.77 stars, but there are enough high-quality works to fill a good single digest.  Read those, and you'll be satisfied!

Next up – a look at the fantasy and horror films of 1962!

[P.S. If you want the chance to nominate Galactic Journey for Best Fanzine next year, you need to register for WorldCon before the end of the year! (or have registered last year… but then you can only nominate, not vote.) The Journey will be at next year's WorldCon, so don't miss your chance to meet us and please help put us on the ballot for Best Fanzine!]




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Book

[December 26, 1962] Diversions. (Ace Double F-161: Brunner's Times without Number, Grinnell's Destiny's Orbit)

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[if you’re new to the Journey, read this to see what we’re all about!]


by Gideon Marcus

Ace Doubles are like an insurance policy for scientifiction readers.  Hungry for a decent yarn after a couple of lousy mags?  Want something more filling than a short story but that requires less commitment than a novel?  Did you miss a serial when it debuted across several issues of an sf digest?  Ace Doubles are what the doctor ordered: back-to-back dual publications, attractive in their lurid colors and never too intellectually demanding.

One of 1962's latest, F-161, is a particularly representative example.  Highly recommended by fellow Journeyer, John Boston, it kept me smiling throughout December…though not always for the reasons the authors intended…

Times without Number, by John Brunner
(or Worlds of the Imperium, the unauthorized sequel)

Sideways-in-Time stories have become very popular of late.  Just in the last few years, we've seen Andre Norton's Crossroads of Time, Philip K. Dick's The Man in the High Castle, and Keith Laumer's Worlds of the Imperium.  Joining them now is the latest from a new British author who has stormed out of the gate with some excellent work.

Times without Number, a fix-up compilation of three stories, looks as if its inception was strongly influenced by Imperium.  If you'll recall, the premise of Laumer's work was that an infinity of parallel timetracks existed and could be traversed with Maxoni-Cocini cross-time vehicles.  The Earth of our timeline is something of an isolate, the neighboring universes having almost all been blighted by runaway vehicle reactions.  In fact, one has to go about 400 years back in time to find a stable point of divergence that doesn't result in catastrophe.

And in fact, the milestone of difference in Times is a successful Spanish invasion of England in 1588 (just about four centuries ago).  The resulting present sees an ascendant Hapsburg Empire, a powerful China, an antagonistic Turkish Sultanate, and a series of petty states from the Vistula to the Gobi.  Technologically backward in many ways, the denizens of this world possess the secret of time travel.  In the Spanish lands, this power is protected by the Licentiates of the Order of Time, a brotherhood that acts something like Poul Anderson's Time Patrol, ensuring the sanctity of history.

Don Miguel Navarro, one of the Licentiates, fulfills the role that Bayard did in Imperium, engaging in a series of increasingly high-stakes adventures to preserve his timeline in a kind of temporal Cold War, to the point of (as in Laumer's book) treating with treasonous members of his time-traveling fellowship.  Brunner even goes so far as to provide for Don Miguel a strong-willed Scandinavian partner/girlfriend named Princess Kristina (an analog of the noble Swede, Barbro, from Imperium). 

Nevertheless, despite the superficial similarities in setting and style, Brunner's story breaks new ground, particularly at the end.  In fact, Brunner's commentary on the ultimate fate of a universe that allows time travel is, alone, worth the price of admission.

3.5 stars, especially if this kind of thing is your bag.

Destiny's Orbit, by David Grinnell

Ajax Calkins, spoiled young scion of the Calkans industrial empire, weeps for having no more worlds to conquer.  The Earth has been thoroughly explored and settled, from Antarctica to the ocean depths.  Mars is also crowded, there by an harmonious consortium of benevolent aliens.  Venus is a hellish wasteland, and the asteroids are under the firm grip of the Earth Mars Space Agency (EMSA).  Beyond Jupiter, the outer reaches of the solar system lie under the domination of the nefarious and inhuman Saturnians.  Only the fifth planet and the worlds of its orbit remain up for grabs, a sort of neutral zone between the two space powers.

And so, when Calkins is approached by asteroid miner, Anton Smallways, with dreams of colonizing a Trojan asteroid (named Ajax, no less!), he is more than happy to lend his vast resources and the use of his space yacht to the cause.  But is Smallways really just a meek servant?  Can Ajax the First and Last of the Kingdom of Ajax maintain a third-way between EMSA and the Saturnians?  And what of the meddling of the plucky EMSA agent, Emily Hackenschmidt, who is single-mindedly determined to end Calkins' schemes? 

Let's be clear — Destiny's Orbit is as subtle as a brick, a brick that was thrown out of the Society of Bricks for lack of subtlety.  It is juvenile space opera with as much moment as a two-inch crowbar.  It raids from the same larder as Leinster's The Wailing Asteroid and The Alien, by Raymond F. Jones, not to mention Burroughs and Doc Smith, etc.  It makes sense – "Grinnell" is really former Futurian Donald Wolheim, a pulp era editor and writer whose sensibilities were baked during the Golden Age [and, as John Boston informs me, this story was originally printed in the early 1940s!]

That said, Destiny's Orbit makes for easy reading as it is thoughtfully broken up into bite-sized chapters, and the content is pleasantly undemanding.  Moreover, the real star of the piece is the resourceful Emily, who is always fun (heroines paradoxically were given more to do "back then;" what I would have given for her to have been the viewpoint character!) So while I may scoff at the content and literary level of Wolheim's work, I did enjoy it. 

2.5 stars, objectively, but in my heart, it's a three-star work.

[P.S. If you want the chance to nominate Galactic Journey for Best Fanzine next year, you need to register for WorldCon before the end of the year! (or have registered last year… but then you can only nominate, not vote.) The Journey will be at next year's WorldCon, so don't miss your chance to meet us and please help put us on the ballot for Best Fanzine!]




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Magazine

[December 24, 1962] The Year 2 A.D. (After Davidson – the January 1963 Fantasy and Science Fiction)

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[if you’re new to the Journey, read this to see what we’re all about!]


by Gideon Marcus

Trends are tricky things.  They require multiple data points to become apparent, and even then, careful analysis may be required to draw a proper conclusion.

I think I can safely say, however, that one-plus year into Avram Davidson's tenure as editor of F&SF, the magazine's quality has trended sharply and consistently downward.  Stories tend toward the obtuse, the purple, the (and this surprises me) hackneyed.  It's just not the sublime lyric beauty it used to be.

Why is this?  Let's explore some possible explanations:

1) F&SF can't get good writers anymore.

This clearly isn't true.  The Table of Contents of any given issue reads like a who's who of the genre.

2) Nobody is writing good sf anymore.

Demonstrably false.  Just look at the other mags.

3) The good writers save their best stuff for other magazines

This could be true, but given that F&SF pays some of the best rates (for science fiction anyway – three or four cents a word), I'd can't image F&SF is a second-resort mag.

4) Davidson's editorial preferences are driving the direction of F&SF.

A ha.  Davidson has been a writer of sf for many a year, and the trend in his writing has been toward the obscure and the prolix.  It shouldn't be a surprise to see the Davidson style creep into his magazine.  One trend I find particularly disturbing is the disappearance of women from F&SF's pages.  This magazine used to be the stand-out leader in publishing of woman authors, and its pages were better for it.  Now, female writers been conspicuously absent for two issues, and there had been fewer than normal in the months prior.  Nor can one argue that women are leaving the genre — F&SF's loss is the gain for the other digests.

The inevitable destination of this downward trend, the limit of quality as the time of Davidson's tenure goes to infinity, as it were, appears to be zero stars.  Sure, there are still stand-out issues, but they come fewer and farther between.  And the January 1963 F&SF isn't one of them…

The Golden Brick, P. M. Hubbard

The issue starts off well enough with this story of a Cornish ghost ship, imprisoned in which is a four hundred year old mad Alchemist with the Midas touch.  The tale is nicely crafted and atmospheric, but stories like this have been a dime a dozen in this mag.  Competent writing and imagery aren't enough.  Three stars.

Zap! and La Difference, Randall Garrett

Ugh.  Go away, Randy.

Dragon Hunt, L. Sprague de Camp

De Camp's life is the stuff of legends, as shows this essay on the globetrotting he undertook to familiarize himself with the locales of his recent historical fiction.  The piece contains tidbits of genuine interest, but the presentation is somehow lackluster.  Three stars.

Myths My Great-Granddaughter Taught Me, Fritz Leiber

In which the author's precocious descendant notes the frightening parallels between the Cold War of the 1980s and Ragnarok of Norse Myth.  This is the best story of the magazine, but again, we're treading familiar ground.  A minor piece from a major author.  Three stars.  (Happy 52nd birthday, by the way, Fritz.)

He's Not My Type!, Isaac Asimov

The Good Doctor's non-fiction articles always get read first, but I was disappointed this time around.  Perhaps it's because I felt Asimov explained blood types better in his recent book, The Living River, or maybe Davidson's too-barbed introduction put me in a bad mood (I must stop reading those first).  In any event, it is readable, which is the worst Asimov ever gets.  Three stars.

Way-Station, Henry Slesar

Imagine Zenna Henderson wrote a The People story, but rather than have it end in poignance, instead wrote a stock "horror" ending that one could see a mile away.  That's what scriptwriter Slesar offers up.  Where is Henderson, anyway?  Two stars.

Punch, Frederik Pohl

Pohl is a busy boy – not only does he edit two mags (three, come early next year), but he finds time to be published in all of them and Davidson's.  In Punch, it turns out that the many technological gifts of the newly encountered galaxy-spanning aliens have a sinister motivation.  It would have made a decent, if typical, episode of The Twilight Zone.  Three stars.

Speakeasy, Mack Reynolds

Last up is a short novel from a fellow who is typically featured in Analog.  Speakeasy depicts a future in which society has been stultified by success, a meritocracy that has calcified thanks to nepotism and inertia.  Only a few revolutionaries remain to shock life into the decaying culture of the Technocracy. 

Reynolds can do very good political thriller, viz. Mercenary from last year's Analog.  Unfortunately, Speakeasy is a rambling, naive mess that jumps the tracks about halfway through and runs headlong into a wall near the end.  I wonder if Analog's editor Campbell rejected it.  If so, I wonder why Davidson accepted it.  It doesn't really fit F&SF, either the current or past iterations of the magazine.  Two stars.

—

So there you have it, an issue that clocks in at a miserable 2.3 stars.  Even Davidson seems to agree that his stuff hasn't been very good – check out the scathing letter at the end of the mag (which may or may not have come from Davidson's pen, itself).  No more "purple cows," indeed.

Ah well.  That's enough kvetching for this season.  It's Christmas Eve, as well as the fourth night of Hannukah.  Go light a candle, illuminate a tree, drink some eggnog.  Or as a recent fancard admonishes, let there be "Goodwill to mellow fen."

[P.S. If you want the chance to nominate Galactic Journey for Best Fanzine next year, you need to register for WorldCon before the end of the year! (or have registered last year… but then you can only nominate, not vote.) The Journey will be at next year's WorldCon, so don't miss your chance to meet us and please help put us on the ballot for Best Fanzine!]




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Science Fiction/Fantasy

[December 16, 1962] See!  The Stars…

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by Gideon Marcus

What a tumultuous year this has been.  War scares, pitched congressional fights, escalating civil rights conflicts, celebrity deaths…yes, I definitely can't wait to see the back-side of 1962.  It is easy to get caught up in the unceasing drone of bad news.  That's why, at times like these, it's helpful to look back on the bright points of the year.  For instance, segregation was dealt several blows in the South with schools across Dixie admitting their first Black students.  The balloon did not go up over Laos, Berlin, or Cuba, thanks in part to the expert manuevering of our President.  John Glenn showed that the pioneering spirit of America still soars high, and it is likely that humanity will have touched another world before the decade is out.

Science fiction, too, had some setbacks.  Some of my favorite magazines suffered a distinct drop in quality this year.  If you are a regular reader, you've experienced what must seem an unmitigated litany of complaint — after all, there were a lot of one and two-star stories.

But looking back on the last twelve months and cataloging just the good stuff, it is reassuring just how much of it there truly was.  And so, I end 1962 on a bright note with the Galactic Stars — a summary of the very best this year had to offer scientifiction fans:

—
Best Poetry
—

Vintage Wine, Doris Pitkin Buck (F&SF)

Buck's vampiric poem was a shoo-in.  There just wasn't a lot of competition in this category this year.  Perhaps fanzines are a better place to mine for material.

—
Best Vignette (1-9 pages):
—

Sword of Flowers, by Laurence P. Janifer (Fantastic)

This time, the serpent in the garden is a man.

Wonder as I Wander, Manly Wade Wellman (F&SF)

A set of tiny-tinies featuring the magical John the Balladeer.

Honorable Mention:

Prelude to a Long Walk, Nils Peterson (F&SF)

And it was Good, A. Earley (Amazing)

The Deadly Mission of Phineas Snodgrass, Fred Pohl (Galaxy)

The Long Silvery Day, Magnus Ludens (Galaxy)

—
Best Short Story (10-19 pages):
—

April in Paris, Ursula K. Le Guin (Fantastic)

A story of time travel, love, and friendship.

Hawk in the Dusk, William Bankier (F&SF)

Karmic horror reaches…and redeems a bitter old man.

Honorable Mention:

Snowbank Orbit, Fritz Leiber (IF)

Science and sacrifice 'round the Seventh Planet.

A City near Centaurus, Bill Doede (Galaxy)

A teleport to the nearest star leads to philosophical conflict between species.

To Lift a Ship, Kit Reed (F&SF)

A lovely piece on confinement and freedom.

The Garden of Time, J.G. Ballard (F&SF)

Victoria Silverwolf's choice.

—
Best Novelette (20-45 pages)
—

The Ballad of Lost C'Mell, Cordwainer Smith (Galaxy)

The second time an Instrumentality tale has gotten a Star… and this one is better.

The 64-Square Madhouse, Fritz Leiber (IF)

One of the most plausible futures I've ever read — a must for chess-lovers… and everyone else.

Unholy Grail, Fritz Leiber (Fantastic)

The origin of the Grey Mouser, and a fantastic fantasy in Fantastic.

I note with interest that Fritz Leiber wrote some of my most and least favorite fiction of this year.  But, to be fair, his misses may have been with me — others liked them.

The Golden Horn and A War of no Consequence, Edgar Pangborn (F&SF)

Two closely related stories of a post-apocalyptic future.

Honorable Mention:

Jonathan and the Space Whale, Robert F. Young (F&SF)

The Star Fisherman, Robert F. Young (Fantastic) [Victoria Silverwolf's choice]

Plane Jane, Robert F. Young (Fantastic)

Note the common element?

—
Best Novella (46+ pages)
—
This category is normally populated by second-rate pieces, but this year, competition was stiff!

Listen!  The Stars…, John Brunner (Analog)

Really excellent stuff.  I understand Ace may novelize it; I'm interested to see what gets added.

The Dragon Masters, Jack Vance (Galaxy)

A close second, with some excellent art by Gaughan. 

Honorable Mention:

Mercenary, Mack Reynolds (Analog)

An interesting vision of a caste-based future where fighting is the only way to get ahead.

—
Best Novel/Serial
—
This one was tough.  There were a lot of good books, but none that all of us agreed were the best.  So, I will let several writers each submit favorites.

The Drowned World, J.G. Ballard: (Berkeley)

The twilight of humanity and the world after the sun heats up.  Rose, Mark, and John all gave it highest marks.

A Wrinkle in Time, Madeleine L'Engle (Farrar, Straus & Giroux )

Lorelei's favorite.

A Life for the Stars, James Blish (Analog)

Honorable Mention:

Secret Agent of Terra, John Brunner (Ace Books)

The Star Dwellers, James Blish (Analog)

A Plague of Pythons, Fred Pohl (Galaxy)

—
Science Fact
—

By Jove, Isaac Asimov (F&SF)

Honorable Mention:

Theodore Sturgeon, Judith Merril (F&SF)

—
Best Magazine
—

IF (3.03 stars; best story of the month, 0 times)

Fantastic (2.99 stars; best story of the month, twice)

Fantasy and Science Fiction (2.92 stars; best story of the month, four times)

Galaxy (2.85 stars; best story of the month, thrice)

Analog (2.73 stars; best story of the month, once (not counting serials))

Amazing (2.68 stars; best story of the month, once)

There was a general drop in quality for the magazines in 1962, though there was still plenty of stories worth reading.  F&SF had the most woman authors, but since October, women have tended to be more represented elsewhere.  This reflects both a drop in numbers in F&SF and an increase in other mags. 

—
Best author(s)
—

Fritz Leiber

Leiber is hit and miss.  But when he hits (and he hit twice this year), wow!

John Brunner

A prolific new author from Great Britain, Brunner has definitely already made his mark.

—
Best Artist
—

Ed Emshwiller

Virgil Finlay

—
Best Dramatic Presentation
—
This wasn't a great year for sf on screen.  Even including the fantasy films, some of which we covered, some of which will be rounded up next month by Victoria Silverwolf, it was slim pickings.  Still, there was some worthy stuff:

Panic in Year Zero

Excellence where one might have expected schlock.

The Creation of the Humanoids

A surprisingly effective super-low budget movie.

The Twilight Zone

This lackluster third season nevertheless had two of our favorite episodes.

—
Best Fanzine
—
Aside from Galactic Journey (which was a nominee-runner up last year!) my favorite amateur mags were:

Science Fiction Times

Axe

Fanac

Kudos go to Al haLevy for (briefly) restarting Rhodomagnetic Digest.  Sadly, it is unlikely that the revival will continue.

And that's that!  What a wonderful trip down memory lane.  1962 may have been a slog at times, but when you compile all the worthy works, all of a sudden, it don't look so bad.  Why not enjoy some of these lovelies as an early holiday gift?

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Science / Space Race

[December 14, 1962] Hot Stuff (Stop Press report on Mariner 2)

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[if you’re new to the Journey, read this to see what we’re all about!]


by Gideon Marcus

The Space Race has given us a lot of firsts to report on in the last five years.  Today marks perhaps the most significant: for the first time, a spacecraft is reporting back to Earth on another world.  Mariner 2, launched on August 27, has traveled 182 million miles to fly by the second planet out from the sun, Venus.

It has been a perilous trip the entire way — even before the spacecraft ever left the ground!  Firstly, the mission almost didn't leave the drawing board.  The original Mariner probe was a robust and heavy craft with a huge panoply of experiments.  But the beefy Atlas-Centaur booster wasn't going to be ready in time for the next favorable orbital alignment of Earth and Venus, such occurring every 19 months.  Unless NASA wanted to wait until 1964…and risk being beat by the Russians, an alternative had to be found.

Luckily, the Ranger series of moon probes, half the size of the original Mariner and designed to fit on the smaller Atlas-Agena, was available.  Two new Rangers were adapted into "Mariner Rs" posthaste to meet the Summer 1962 deadline.  By July, Mariner 1 was on the launchpad.  This is where the second hurdle was met.

On July 22, Mariner 1's Atlas soared into the sky.  93 seconds into the flight, the guidance antenna on board the rocket stopped hearing commands from ground control.  This was not immediately fatal; after all, the Atlas has its own computer with a program designed to keep the booster on course even without external direction.  Unfortunately, something was wrong with the program, too — probably a misprogrammed equation led the Atlas to make increasingly jerky maneuvers on its yaw axis.  Five minutes into the mission, ground control had to send a destruct order, blowing the rocket up in midflight.

A tense month went by.  Would the Russians beat us to the punch?  We'd gotten a reprieve the year before, when the Soviet probe Venera 1 sailed silently past the Planet of Love, its systems having died in flight.  On August 25, there were reports of a Soviet launch but no subsequent announcement of a new Venus mission.  Was it just a false alarm?  Or had our adversaries had troubles of their own?

Then Mariner 2 successfully launched, on August 27.  It made it through a mid-course correction on September 4 that put it on a course with destiny.  Now it just had to survive the journey, longer than any that had been managed before.  Given the track record of the Rangers (0 for 5), the odds weren't good.

In fact, Mariner almost didn't make it.  On Halloween, one of Mariner's solar panels shorted out.  It came back on a week later only to short out for good on November 15.  Still, the crippled ship soldiered on closer to the sun, its remaining panel absorbing sufficient energy to power all instruments.  Mariner 2 set a record en route, continuing to send data past the point that Pioneer 5's transmission faded away two years ago.  As the craft approached Venus, the temperature inside was close to boiling.

Nevertheless, little Mariner pulled through!  Passing just over 20,000 miles over the surface of Venus, Mariner 2 is sending back information, all experiments functioning.  As we speak, JPL engineers are poring through the data.  In just a few short weeks, we will finally have answers to some big questions: Is Venus really a roiling inferno?  How long is a Venusian day?  What is the nature of Venus' magnetic field? 

Humanity has waited 100,000 years to learn the answers.  By January, we should have them.

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Magazine

[December 9, 1962] (January 1963, IF Science Fiction)

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[if you’re new to the Journey, read this to see what we’re all about!]


by Gideon Marcus

Ah, Winter.  That sleepy time of the year when the air gets chillier (such as it ever gets chilly in Southern California), work slows down a bit, and shopping for the holidays picks up.  The first night of Hannukah is the 21st, and then, of course, there's the big mid-Hannukah holiday (named after Chris, the patron saint of presents). 

And it's when I renew my subscriptions for science fiction magazines since they generally offer Christmas discounts!

December marks the new year, at least as far as periodicals go.  January-dated issues show up the month before, so I've already gotten a sneak preview into the next year.  First up is is the January 1963 IF, and if this be a harbinger, then next year will probably be a decent one:

The Five Hells of Orion, by Frederik Pohl

I have to wonder if Pohl gets paid the same rate as everyone else for stories he writes, given that he is the editor.  Of course, he should.  Pohl has been a writer for decades, and he produces good stuff.  Orion follows the tale of an young astrogator shanghaied across a thousand light years by aliens bent on forging an alliance with humanity.  The first half is very good.  The spaceman must navigate a set of intelligence tests and we gradually come to understand the intentions of the extraterrestrials.  The payoff is rushed, however; perhaps this would have made a better novel.  Three stars.

The Shipshape Miracle, by Clifford D. Simak

An atypical piece by Simak in which an incorrigible criminal crosses paths with the brother to The Ship Who Sang, to his ultimate dismay.  Well-written, like everything Simak does, but unexceptional.  Three stars for the story, but five stars for the excellent art!

This Way to the Egress, by Andrew Fetler

Fetler returns to IF with his second vignette, a subtle piece about the last hours of a social deviant.  I suspect Fetler has a day job given the paucity of work he's published in our field.  Three stars.

Essay in Coherence, by Theodore Sturgeon

This piece on LASERs (single-wavelength light beams of incredible intensity) shows that Sturgeon may soon give Asimov a run for his money with science articles.  It's witty and informative, and probably will be the genesis of countless short stories involving this brand-new technology.  Five stars.

Podkayne of Mars (Part 2 of 3), by Robert A. Heinlein

Part II of Heinlein's new juvenile(?) about Miss Poddy Fries and her space jaunt from Mars is a bit more readable than the last one, but it's still overwritten and gets bogged in detail.  This is the spiritual successor to The Menace from Earth I'd hoped to share with my daughter, but I don't think it's quite good enough.  Three stars for this installment.

Road Stop, by David Mason

A ghost story involving a haunted car…in a future when all cars are haunted by design.  The tale isn't plausible, in and of itself, but the world it paints feels like a possible tomorrow.  Three stars.

Fortress Ship, by Fred Saberhagen

Now here's an interesting one, by a newish author who's already turned out some good stuff.  Fortress introduces the concept of the "Beserker," giant automated robot ships created as doomsday weapons. They roam the galaxy, relics of a forgotten war, reducing populated planets into ashes.  It takes extraordinary courage and, more importantly, wit to defeat them.  But it is possible…  Four stars.

Captain of the Kali , by Gary Wright

The "IFirststory" competition netted a piece from freshly minted author Gary Wright.  A futuristic C.S. Forester is recruited to serve as guest admiral on an alien fleet of sail-driven warships.  A good first effort, though greater length and a few more sf trappings would have been nice.  Three stars.

When Whirlybirds Call, by Frank Banta

Last up is a satirical piece about a laconic big-game hunter and the coocoo-downdraft-peoplehawk-whirlybirds he is contracted to exterminate.  Cute while it lasts.  Three stars.

It's rare that I go from beginning to end of a mag and find no lousy stories.  This month's IF is solid (if not exceptional) entertainment, and as the cheapest of the digests (at 35 cents), it is definitely a bargain.

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Fashion, music, politics, sports

[December 6, 1962] How to Kill Friends and Influence People (The game, Diplomacy)

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[if you’re new to the Journey, read this to see what we’re all about!]


by Gideon Marcus

"…but she took off the great lid of the box with her hands and scattered all these and her thought caused sorrow and mischief to men."

So goes Hesiod's account of Pandora, the first woman, and how woe was delivered unto mankind.  Until last month, I'd come to believe that the box was strictly allegorical.  And then I found it.

More accurately, I bought it.  I was visiting the local toy store.  You know, where they sell big bouncy balls, Airfix model kits, Erector Sets.  And social, wholesome boardgames like Clue and Scrabble.  Mixed among these innocuous pleasures was something new, a creation of the "Games Research" company.  Its title was brief and opaque: Diplomacy.  Intrigued, I purchased it and took it home.

Inside the maroon box is a map of Europe delineated with the pre-WWI national boundaries, a variety of wooden pieces, and a set of rules.  "'Diplomacy' is a game of skill and cunning negotiations," they proclaim.  Diplomacy appears to be the latest in the new category of diversions known as "wargames."  The goal is to take the role of one of the seven Great Powers and take over the rest of Europe. 

What makes Diplomacy unique from other wargames is its multi-player aspect; all the other wargames I've played to date have been two-player affairs.  Also, as the rules go on to say, "Chance plays no part."  This is true – no dice are included with or employed by the game. 

Though the rules booklet runs several pages, the gist of the game is incredibly simple.  The map is divided into two types of provinces: ones with "supply centers" and ones without.  All player nations start out with three supply centers (except Russia, which gets four).  No nation may have more pieces than supply centers; thus, each player starts with three (or four) pieces.  These pieces may be armies, which move on land, and fleets, which may move in sea spaces or land spaces that border sea spaces. 

Each turn, a player dispatches orders to each of her/his pieces privately in writing.  Units are directed to move, either individually or with the support of adjacent friendly pieces.  Orders are resolved simultaneously – in the event that two units are sent to the same province, the one with more support wins, and the other must retreat.  Every other turn, control of supply centers is tallied – they belong to whomever was last in them on a tallying turn.  And so the fortune of nations rises and falls.  When one has control of no supply centers, that player is eliminated from the game.

Easy, no?  Ah, but here's the tricky bit.  Turns are divided into two segments.  The latter is the one just described, where players write their marching orders.  The former is a 15-minute diplomacy segment.  This is the period in which players discuss their plans, try to hatch alliances, attempt to deceive about intentions.  It is virtually impossible to win the game without help on the way up; it is completely impossible to win without eventually turning on your allies.  Backstabbery is common, even necessary.  Honesty is a vice.

Diplomacy is, thus, not a nice game.  In fact, I suspect this game will strike rifts between even the best chums.  So why play at all?  Why suffer 4-12 hours of agony, especially when you might well be eliminated within the first few turns, left to watch the rest of your companions pick over your bones?

Well, it's kind of fun.

I'll give you an example.  Last weekend, I was fortunate to have over exactly the seven people needed to play.  We drew our countries randomly – I picked Russia, my daughter got the neighboring country of Turkey.  Right away, we had to establish our relationship.  Would we forge a treaty, enabling us to strike west into central Europe?  Or would we be adversaries, soliciting the aid of another power (say, Austria-Hungary) in a bloody war for domination of the Black Sea?

As it turned out, the question was not neatly answered.  As my forces fenced with the British Royal Navy for control of Scandinavia, and Italy plunged into the south of France, the Hapsburg Emperor proved a stubborn foe.  After several turns of thwarting Turkey's Balkan ambitions, she convinced Lorelei to launch a surprise attack against my rear, the Sultan's forces heading straight for Sevastopol.

Only two things kept the Czar on the throne: Firstly, I'd penned a secret alliance with the Kaiser to join in a three-way alliance to devour the Dual Monarchy.  Secondly, and more luckily, Lorelei had botched her orders, and her attack stalled. 

I held absolutely no grudge against the kid.  Instead, I merely pulled her aside during the next diplomacy session and explained that she could work with me and finally break out of Asia Minor…or she could not cooperate, and both our chances of winning would be slim.  She bit, and next turn, Austria-Hungary ceased to be.  We went on to tie for first place, both of us having a full eight supply centers when we called it a day after five hours of play.  But I've no doubt that, had we decided to continue, my dear daughter, apple of my eye, would not have hesitated to drive the knife deep into my spine. 

Such is the nature of Diplomacy.  It's an unique pleasure, to be sure, one that will test your cunning, your generalship, and your charisma.  And your friendships.  Don't say I didn't warn you…

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