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Magazine, Science Fiction/Fantasy

[August 2, 1968] Dreams and Nightmares (September 1968 IF)

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by David Levinson

Is the nightmare ending?

I’ve written a few times about the turmoil in communist China brought on by Chairman Mao Tse-tung’s efforts to reassert his power after being sidelined. The most dangerous of Mao’s tools has been the explosive, violent fanaticism of the country’s young people. Calling themselves Red Guards, they came boiling out of the universities and high schools, enforcing a strict adherence to “Mao Tse-tung thought” with humiliation, beatings, and even death.

That was the situation when I last covered the “Cultural Revolution” in February of last year. Since then, the Red Guards have split into factions almost everywhere, generally with one side being more fanatical and the other more willing to work within the system. There are rumors of massacres in Canton Province last year and Kwangshi Province this spring. Clashes in Peking over the last three months have involved not only batons and stones, but landmines, improvised armored vehicles and Molotov cocktails.

Red Guard rebels march in Shanghai last year.

Enough is enough. On July 3rd, the Central Committee of the Communist Party issued a public notice aimed at the violence in Kwangshi. China watchers say this is a sign Mao and the other leaders have decided it’s time to rein in the Red Guards. Results so far have been minimal, so on the 27th Mao dispatched thousands of “worker-peasant thought propaganda teams” to Tsinghua University, the birthplace of the Red Guard movement. The next day, he summoned five of the most influential Red Guard leaders to a meeting. Word is that he strongly reprimanded them, but any news out of China is uncertain. Time will tell if the violence will finally ebb.

Dream a little dream

This month’s IF features several stories that involve dreams and hallucinations. It’s also missing something, but we’ll talk about that later.

Those are supposed to be radiators, not rocket thrusters. Art by McKenna

More Bubbles for Your Bier, by Frederik Pohl

Fred Pohl gives us an editorial that makes a frightening companion piece to the guest editorial by Poul Anderson in the May issue. Poul warned us that power generation creates waste heat, and increased power demands mean increased heat. He warned that we’re at risk of warming the planet to a life-threatening degree.

Fred, meanwhile, warns that we’re ignoring a key pollutant: carbon dioxide. Burning coal and oil produces CO2, but that’s what makes our drinks fizzy, so what’s the worry? For one, high levels of CO2 make it harder to breathe; big cities already have measurably lower oxygen levels than the natural atmosphere. Worse, CO2 is a major contributor to the greenhouse effect, trapping heat that would normally radiate into space. The best way to slow the increase in carbon dioxide would be to stop burning fossil fuels. And that’s not very likely to happen.

Bulge, by Hal Clement

Four men hijack an orbiting platform that uses fusion power to transmute elements. The only thing standing between them and large amounts of the most dangerous nuclear fuels is the sole, elderly caretaker.

Moving in zero gravity is difficult for the uninitiated. Art by Gaughan

This is a Hal Clement story, so you know the resolution is going to come from some scientific principle (with an assist from Shakespeare this time). What’s unusual is that the human antagonists are truly bad people. The only bad guys in Clement that I can think of who are really bad are the alien drug smugglers in Iceworld and the Hunter from Needle. Humans usually just have a difference of opinion that can be worked out. In any case, this is otherwise typical for Clement; if you like his stuff, you’ll like this.

Three stars.

Dream Street, by C.C. MacApp

Henry Traum is desperate for a repeat of the experience he had with a dream-sloth the previous day. Unfortunately for him, the creature has different plans.

The first four pages of this story were readable, but forgettable. The final page, though, turns things on their head in ways that MacApp hasn’t tried in several years. The twist elevates the story beyond what it was shaping up to be, though not quite to four-star levels.

A high three stars.

The Elf in the Starship Enterprise, by Dorothy Jones

A (thankfully) brief poem about Mr. Spock discovering emotions. Has Miss Jones actually seen Star Trek? Spock deals with his emotions all the time. The rhyme scheme is insipid and filled with slant rhymes that would make Emily Dickinson scowl.

Two stars at best.

I’m sure Fred could have come up with a better excuse to run this portrait. Art by Virgil Finlay

Flesh and the Iron, by Larry S. Todd

Humans hunt robots and call them Iron; robots hunt humans and call them Flesh. By a quirk of fate, robot Marigold and human Bannock manage to capture each other. They must travel together while they figure out a way to let each other go without giving the other an advantage.

Marigold has a problem with ledges. Art by Todd (presumably the author)

While the situation is rather contrived, the story is not as silly or light as my summary or the author’s art might suggest. Todd has improved a great deal in the two years since his last story, but let’s be honest: this is basically The Defiant Ones. That’s a decent template to work from, and Todd doesn’t stick too closely to it, but Marigold and Bannock are no Poitier and Curtis.

Three stars.

If… and When, by Lester del Rey

This month, del Rey discusses the uses of fluorocarbons in the human body. It is possible that they can be used as a temporary replacement for blood. This has implications in the treatment of strokes, blood clots, and removing fatty deposits from arterial walls. Another possibility is that they can be used to flood the lungs, replacing air as a means of getting oxygen into the bloodstream. That would allow divers to resist the pressure of the deep ocean. Not a new idea; we’ve seen it in a couple of Hal Clement stories (Raindrop and Ocean on Top). But Lester suggests it might also help resist low pressure; a torn spacesuit might not be a death sentence.

Three stars.

Star Itch, by Thomas J. Bassler, M.D.

This month’s first-time author is a doctor who recently completed a stint as an army pathologist. He brings us a tale of an attempt to plant an interstellar colony, but first the computer intelligence running the effort and a shipboard doctor must figure out why the first colony and the scouts sent down by the ship are dying despite the abundance around them. We also follow one of the “expendables.”

Things aren’t going well for Ralph. Art by Adkins

This is a very good story, but there are a lot of caveats. First and foremost, this is not for the squeamish. Even if you aren’t squeamish, I strongly recommend not reading while you’re eating. We get an exhaustive description of what happens to someone starving to death in medical detail. The author shows off his specialist vocabulary, too. I’m not unfamiliar with biological and medical terminology, but I had to grab my dictionary more than once. It’s also a bit longer than it really needed to be. All this is enough to knock off a star, but if Dr. Bassler can overcome some of the tendencies he shows here, he could be very good.

A high, but queasy, three stars.

Love Conquers All, by Mack Reynolds

A crackpot scientist has come up with a foolproof way to end a global depression. A presidential aide ain’t buying it.

Watch out for the cop at 34th and Vine. Art by Wehrle

This is another of those Mack Reynolds stories where you wonder why it isn’t in Analog. This time, it’s probably because the protagonist is a bureaucrat. Or maybe because it’s too much like Chris Anvil’s "Is Everybody Happy?" which ran back in the April issue, just with the effects ratcheted up several notches. Too bad Mack doesn’t really have a hand for humor.

A low three stars.

Dreambird, by Dean R. Koontz

A vicious, wealthy old man wants to steal the Pheasant of Dreams, the last of its kind, to make his final years tolerably pleasant. Only a puritanical undercover policeman with a troubled past can stop him.

Sloane has a bad encounter with a nightmare rat. Art by Brand

Newish writer Koontz continues to show a lot of potential, but sooner or later he’s going to have to live up to it. His biggest problem is creating contrived situations. Here it’s that the training of the secret agents has so clearly created people who can barely function in society. And that’s key to the ending. Still, it’s very well written, and the ending is very, very good, even if the motivations behind it are hard to swallow.

A very high three stars.

Like Banquo’s Ghost, by Larry Niven

After a 30 year wait, the signals from the first interstellar probe are due to arrive. For some reason, nobody seems to care.

It’s hard to say much about this without giving the whole thing away. Some of it’s obvious, but you need to let Niven peel the onion one layer at a time for the full effect. I want to like this story more than I do. I love what he’s trying to do, but I’m not sure he fully achieved it. More of a ground rule double than a home run. (Also, he kept writing "perihelion", when he clearly meant "perigee".)

On the plus side, he gets the setting perfectly. He’s obviously traveled up to the Jet Propulsion Laboratory on more than one occasion to attend a "first data" presentation like the one depicted in the story. This is some of the best scene setting he’s ever done.

A very high three stars, but it might rate four for others.

Summing up

Back at the beginning of the year, editor Fred Pohl promised us some new features. The first to appear was the SF Calendar, which lists upcoming conventions and other science fiction events. Apparently, attendance at Boskone doubled this year, and other cons have shown similar growth. We also got the new column from Lester del Rey, “If… and When.” So far, that’s been quite good.

But we’ve also lost a lot. Lin Carter’s “Our Man in Fandom” has vanished without a trace. Admittedly, it felt like Lin had run out of things to say, but some acknowledgment would have been nice. Much bigger, IF has been a source of serials, good and bad, for many years. Ever since the October 1965 issue, when Skylark DuQuesne came to a close and Retief’s War began, the end of a serial has shared the issue with the start of a new one. That came to an end in May, when The Man in the Maze ended without a successor. And now, Rogue Star ended last month without a new serial beginning in this issue.

Look at this month’s cover. “All stories complete in this issue.” The plug for next month promises “A brand-new novel condensation in a special bound-in supplement!” In the letter col, Fred just says it’s a complete short novel. It sounds to me like the serials are gone, and I count that as a loss.

Well, at least a new Delany story is bound to be good.




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Magazine, Science Fiction/Fantasy, Serial, Uncategorized

[November 4, 1967] Conflicts (December 1967 IF)

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by David Levinson

Conflicts at home over the conflict abroad

It seems like scarcely a day goes by without images of young people protesting showing up on the evening news and landing on our doorsteps. These days, it’s usually about the war in Vietnam as President Johnson ratchets up the number of troops involved yet again. Monday, October 16th saw the start of Stop the Draft week. Induction centers in cities all over the country were blockaded by protesters, while many young men either burned their draft cards or attempted to hand them in to authorities, which is now a criminal offense. Arrests were plentiful. In Oakland alone, 125 people (including singer Joan Baez) were arrested, and I’ve seen estimates that as many as 1,000 draft cards were either burned or turned in. The week culminated in a march on the Pentagon. Check back later this month for an eyewitness account from the Journey’s Vickie Lucas.

Joan Baez is arrested in Oakland.

Of course, the protests didn’t end there. On October 27th, Father Philip Berrigan, Rev. James Mengel and two other men, forced their way into Selective Service office in Baltimore, Maryland and poured blood into several file drawers containing draft records. The men have refused bail and are being held awaiting trial.

Fr. Berrigan pouring blood into a file drawer.

Conflicts big and small

When we study literature in school, we’re usually taught that conflict is one of the most important elements in narrative and drama. It’s often broken down into three types: man against man, man against nature and man against self. The December issue of IF has them all.

Futuristic combat in The City of Yesterday. Art by Chaffee

Herbert George Morley Roberts Wells, Esq., by Arthur C. Clarke

A guest editorial from Clarke regarding a literary mystery. In a story in the October 1966 Galaxy, he referred to a short story called “The Anticipator” which he attributed to H. G. Wells, but which no one could find. You can probably figure out the real author from the title of this piece. I’m sure the puzzle was very interesting for Arthur, but for most readers it’s rather pointless.

Barely three stars.

All Judgment Fled (Part 1 of 3), by James White

When a mysterious object enters the solar system and places itself in orbit around the sun between Mars and Jupiter, two ships, each containing three men, are sent to investigate. Both have two astronaut pilots and a supernumerary: a physicist aboard Prometheus-1 and a psychologist aboard Prometheus-2.

The trip is psychologically taxing. At one point, physicist Hollis suffers a breakdown and psychologist McCullough (our viewpoint character) must make a dangerous trip between the ships to treat him. Hollis appears to have grown paranoid, claiming that P-2 has been declared expendable and that P-1 is carrying a Dirty Annie, a highly destructive atomic bomb. McCullough manages to calm him down, and the journey continues.

When they reach the alien ship, it appears to be abandoned. McCullough and Walters (second in command of P-2) manage to get inside, but don’t get the chance to explore. They are attacked by a starfish-like, tentacled alien and then trapped in the compartment where they first entered by two of the starfish aliens and another that looks like a dumbbell. As they leave, McCullough gets a glimpse of something covered in white fur or maybe clothing. To be continued.

McCullough helps Walters deal with a tear in his suit. Art by Morrow

I’m of two minds about this one. The premise is excellent, and the decision to devote roughly half of this installment to the difficulties of the journey is interesting. Most authors would probably have rushed the narrative to get the characters to the ship as quickly as possible and focused on the mystery of the alien object. But that’s also where the problem lies. White is so thorough at describing the pressures and interpersonal problems these six men face that the tension creeps into his style and never goes away. That makes for a sometimes difficult read. You would also expect a mission like this to be much more international than six guys with English-sounding names.

Three stars.

On Conquered Earth, by Jay Kay Klein

The Hiroku are keeping a close eye on the backwards world of Earth. Their real focus is on expansion towards the galactic center, but a small, steady decrease in the human population has them worried. It might be necessary to bring in a fleet to smash the system to prevent a threat arising at their back. What’s really going on?

If you’re going to use art to boost the title, it should be more interesting than this. Art by Gaughan

Jay Kay Klein and his camera are a common sight at science fiction conventions, where he’s practically the official photographer. Here we have his first story sold, and it leaves a lot to be desired. The truth behind the population decline is questionable (though it might have qualified it for Dangerous Visions). I’m more bothered, though, by the description of the Hiroku as looking like Asian humans and having such Japanese sounding names (Admiral Ikara, Ambassador Sushi). That’s enough for me to knock off a star.

Two stars.

Answering Service, by Fritz Leiber

Unable to contact her doctor, a vicious old woman takes out her frustrations on his answering service. After all, it’s just a bunch of computer-controlled tapes on the other end.

Pay attention to me! Art by Gaughan

Fritz Leiber reminds us that he can write very effective horror. You can see where it’s going, but this is Leiber at the top of his game.

Four stars.

Fandom in Europe Today, by Lin Carter

Carter continues his world tour and looks at the state of European fandom. Much of what we read also appears in Europe in translation. Galaxy has a number of current and former foreign-language editions. In Germany, Perry Rhodan has come a long way since our own Cora Buhlert first wrote about him. And Gerfandom is exploring a Worldcon bid for 1970 or 1971. We get a brief look at the state of SF publishing in Britain and Italy, and then Carter talks about the Trans-Atlantic Fan Fund, which helps one deserving American fan visit an overseas convention or vice versa.

Three stars.

When Sea is Born Again, by C. C. MacApp

Latpur is the apprentice to Prognosticator Deeoon, who has seen signs that Sea will be born again soon and in their area. This happens every few years in some coastal area and well inland, destroying all life that fails to reach high ground. Matters are complicated by a foreign shaman trying to steal business from the scientific prognosticator and the arrival of aliens in a metal cylinder.

Latpur running errands for the Prognosticator. Art by Vaughn Bodé

MacApp continues his recent theme of looking at alien societies from the inside. Like the others, this one is enjoyable, if not particularly memorable.

Three stars.

City of Yesterday, by Terry Carr

J-1001011 has been awakened for an attack on a city on the planet Rhinstruk. The reason for the attack and the nature of the enemy are unimportant. Our protagonist was born human, and if he can survive enough missions, he’ll get to go to a home he no longer really remembers.

J-1001011 begins an attack run. Art by Gaughan.

Terry Carr is a familiar name as both writer and editor. He’s usually fairly reliable, but while I can see what he was trying to say, I don’t feel like he really achieved his goal. The story is competently written, but I never engaged with it.

A low three stars.

Swordsmen of the Stars, by Robert E. Margroff and Andrew J. Offutt

Varn is a rising gladiator for the Greenback team on the planet Solitos. Two high-ranking spectators seem to have taken an interest in his performance, one supporting him and the other backing the Bluechips. Varn decides he must be the secret son of a godling and will do whatever it takes to find out the truth.

This is actually one of the less ridiculous moments of combat. Art by Gaughan

Margroff and Offutt have produced a number of substandard stories alone and in collaboration. This might not be the worst, but it’s also not their best. Much here is borrowed from Mack Reynolds’ Joe Mauser stories with a large helping of Gladiator-at-Law by Fred Pohl and C. M. Kornbluth. Unlike either of its inspirations, this story is not a scathing criticism of modern capitalism; it’s just a bad adventure story with combat scenes that the worst hack of the Pulp Era would dismiss as unrealistic.

Two stars.

The Time Trollers, by Roger Deeley

Time travel is imprecise. While aiming for the United States in the mid-twentieth century, one man has found himself on St. Helena in the early nineteenth. And l’empereur has some surprising information for him.

Art uncredited

Mildly entertaining, but rather forgettable.

A low three stars.

Ocean on Top (Part 3 of 3), by Hal Clement

Searching for three vanished investigators for the global Power Board, our unnamed protagonist has discovered a thriving, power-wasting group of people living on the sea floor. In this installment, he learns the history of the ocean-dwelling people, the Board’s motives for ignoring the settlement, and resolves his unrequited crush.

The protagonist has found someone who doesn’t care about his hated name. Art by Castellon

Despite the slightly darker tone, this is a reasonably typical Clement tale. There’s a scientifically plausible basis, and almost all the characters are fundamentally good people. But this is not one of his better works. A lot of the pieces don’t really hang together. I don’t consider the Board’s stated reasoning for ignoring the power generation method used by the people here to be at all valid, although the reason for ignoring the people themselves makes some sense. The protagonist’s absolute hatred for his name (we learn of the nickname Tummy, but that’s it) is probably meant to give him some incentive to stay, but the whole business feels silly.

It’s a so-so read, at best, if you like Clement. When it eventually comes out as a novel, my tip is either to club together with some friends to buy a copy or encourage your local library to buy it and then check it out. It’s not worth the 60-75 cents it will assuredly cost.

Barely three stars.

Summing up

We finally got a stand-out story this month. This is the first time since May that I’ve rated a story higher than 3 stars, and that’s a long slog of mediocrity and worse. IF is proudly proclaiming their two consecutive Best Magazine Hugos. An overall grade of C- isn’t going to get them a third. The new serial has some promise, but White is going to have to release the psychological tension that is cramping the narrative. All I can suggest for Fred Pohl is more Delany, more Zelazny, lean on Saberhagen and Niven to polish their work a little more, and try to get some better novels to serialize.

A new Zelazny is a good sign, and Saberhagen could be good.




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Magazine, Science Fiction/Fantasy, Serial, Uncategorized

[October 2, 1967] Switching Sides (November 1967 IF)

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by David Levinson

Crossing the road

You probably know that, while much of the world drives on the right-hand side of the road with steering wheels on the left side of the vehicle, Great Britain and most of her former colonies do things the other way around, steering wheel on the right and driving on the left. A few other countries follow the British example, such as Japan, Indonesia, and Thailand. Up until a month ago, Sweden was among them.

A switch has been considered for a while and, although Swedes voted overwhelmingly against the change in 1955, it has now gone through. All of Sweden’s neighbors drive on the right, with something like 5 million vehicles crossing the borders with Norway and Finland (not to mention Danish and German tourists arriving with their cars by ferry). On top of that, roughly 90 percent of the cars in Sweden have their steering wheel on the left, which means that Swedish automakers have been building their cars that way for a long time.

The logo for the traffic changeover.

After four years of preparation and education, H-day (Dagen H for Högertrafik, which means right-hand traffic) came in the wee hours of Sunday, September 3rd. Road signs had to be moved or remade, new lines had to be painted on the roads, intersections had to be reshaped. Just as much effort went into educating the public. The logo was plastered on everything from milk cartons to underwear. There was even a catchy tune written for the event, “Håll dig till höger, Svensson” (Keep to the Right, Svensson). Everything seems to have gone off without a hitch, and traffic accidents have been down, probably because everyone is being extra careful. Iceland is planning on following suit next year.

This photo was staged several months ago as part of the education campaign. The real thing was much less chaotic.

Turncoats and breakthroughs

This month’s IF begins and ends with characters changing sides (or appearing to) while elsewhere the crew of a spaceship breaks on through to the other side.

A newcomer gets the cover. Does he deserve it? Art by Vaughn Bodé

Brother Berserker, by Fred Saberhagen

The time war against the deadly berserkers on the planet Sirgol comes to a head. The enemy will try to stop Vincent Vincento (a Galileo analogue) from recanting his belief in heliocentrism, thus preventing him from writing an important scientific treatise. Feeling guilt over sending his rival to his death, Derron Odegard volunteers to go back and try to stop the berserkers. If he succeeds, Time Ops will be able to locate their staging area and lock them out of the time stream. But what happens when a berserker meets the equivalent of St. Francis of Assisi?

Can a Foucault pendulum keep Vencento from recanting?. Art by Gaughan

This is a direct sequel to Stone Man and The Winged Helmet and wraps the story up nicely. That said, I’ve never been completely satisfied with the time war stories. Saberhagen continues to show some range, though, and I will always be glad to see his name on the cover.

Three stars.

Mail Drop, by C. C. MacApp

Klonit-41-Z-Bih is the director of the mail center on Galkbar. Things are stressful enough, but when the first manned mission to Mars stumbles into a long-forgotten mail transporter, war may break out between the Selidae and Medanjians over the Live Unclaimed Mail – a war that will claim the mail center as its first victim.

Klonit does his best to soothe the rival claimants. Art by Vaughn Bodé

I’ve noted before that MacApp tends to be unsuccessful when he tries to be funny. Here, he’s going more for general humor than a real knee-slapper and gets closer to the mark. Like a lot of what he’s put out lately, it’s reasonably entertaining, but forgettable.

Three stars just for not being Gree.

The Shadow of Space, by Philip José Farmer

The Sleipnir under Captain Grettir is scheduled to test the first faster-than-light drive. Before starting the test, the crew pick up the sole survivor of a wrecked ship. Unfortunately, she is distraught and becomes convinced the captain is her husband. Upset by his rejection of her, she commandeers the drive and sends the ship to speeds much faster than planned before stripping naked and walking out the airlock. Meanwhile, the ship and the body have burst out of the universe to find it is just an electron orbiting an atomic nucleus. Then things get weird.

The Sleipnir in orbit around the body of Mrs. Wellington. Art by Morrow

If the timing didn’t make it nearly impossible, I’d say Farmer wrote this as a parody or pastiche of Poul Anderson’s To Outlive Eternity, what with the Nordic names of the ship and captain. Farmer’s been on a losing streak lately; even his latest Riverworld story was a little off. This story does nothing to end that streak.

A high two stars.

Thus Spake Marco Polo, by James Stevens

The MARK-40 PLO Command Computer, which oversees America’s nuclear armaments, has gained sentience, dubbed itself Marco Polo, and linked up with the Russian IVAN-812 Command Computer. It also lisps. Now General Emerito Sandez has 24 hours to defeat the computer in a war game, or humanity will be wiped out.

This month’s new author is a 22-year-old graduate student in drama at the University of Illinois, originally from Puerto Rico. (I hope Fred keeps doing these mini-biographies for new authors; they’re handy.) Giving the computer a childish lisp may not be the most successful way of showing that its sentience is brand-new, but it’s not too distracting. On the other hand, it’s unusual to have a Latin protagonist, particularly one so high-ranking, and I approve. Overall, this is a fine debut, and I look forward to more from Mr. Stevens.

A solid three stars.

Dreamhouse, by Gary Wright

The planet of New Kansas is very, very flat. It also has no violent crime. However, it’s not without its sins, like the Dreamhouse, which offers patrons the chance to experience almost anything as though it were real. Maybe there’s a connection.

Adam’s dreams keep going disastrously wrong. Art by Wood

Gary Wright has turned out some sound, middle-of-the-road stories, frequently about sports. Alas, this is none of those things. The writing is fine, but the protagonist (such as he is) is unpleasant, and much of the story hinges on him being unable or unwilling to communicate his problems. The conclusion also doesn’t hold up if you give it even a passing thought. Wright is capable of much better than this.

Barely three stars.

In the Jaws of Danger, by Piers Anthony

Dr. Dillingham is a dentist who has been kidnapped by aliens, because he did such a good job fixing one of their dental problems. Now he’s been loaned out to deal with a cavity in an alien the size of a whale.

Dr. Dillingham asks his new patient to say “Aaah.” Art by Vaughn Bodé

Piers Anthony is a Cele Lalli discovery, and she seems to be the only editor to get the best out of him. Under other editors, he’s produced some mediocre stories (alone and in collaboration) and an execrable novel. This humorous piece is… fine, I guess (cue Señor Wences again). It also feels like there might be a story before this one that has gone missing somewhere.

Three stars.

Ocean on Top (Part 2 of 3), by Hal Clement

In Part 1, an unnamed investigator for the Power Board, which rations energy for the whole world, is looking into the disappearance of three other investigators over the last year. On the ocean floor, he discovers a vast area being illuminated in a criminal waste of energy. Eventually he is captured and taken into an underwater base. Still underwater, his captors removed their helmets.

After a while, he is visited by Bert Wehlstrahl, the first investigator to go missing. Communicating by writing, Bert explains that the 15,000 people down here aren’t stealing power, and that he has joined them. He has no news about Joey Elfven, the second investigator, but they do have Marie Wladetzky, who refuses to believe anything Bert says.

Our protagonist agrees to undergo the process to allow him to live in the underwater base, secretly planning to find out as much as he can before returning to surface. The people down there want him to go back with a message to the Power Board, but he wants as much information as possible. He meets with Marie and explains his plan and then takes a tour of the facility. Following a visit to the power plant, Bert claims that he is also not planning to stay and that the Power Board knows, or at least knew, about this base. He then takes the protagonist to see the supposedly missing Joey. To be concluded.

One of the locals shows the protagonist where to get lunch. Art by Castellon

Clement just keeps piling mystery upon mystery, without offering us any real answers. Most importantly, he hasn’t explained how these people breathe; the protagonist thinks they get their oxygen from special food. After remembering reading about some experiments done after the First World War with oxygenated saline to help soldiers whose lungs were devastated by gas and a trip to the library where I learned about some very recent breakthroughs, I think I know how the breathing works, at least.

The tour of the base is the most Clement-esque part of this installment, but the rest still has a darker, more “grown-up” feel than is usual for his work. If I have a real quibble, it’s that the dialogue is too involved and flowing for being done in writing on a letter-sized board.

Three stars for now.

Summing up

Last month at Worldcon, IF was awarded Best Professional Magazine for the second year in a row. In his con report, the Traveler suggested that voters were rewarding the magazine for its standouts. It’s true that the magazine has been lackluster of late, but the award was for last year, a year dominated by the serialization of Best Novel winner The Moon is a Harsh Mistress. And while the magazine was only in the middle of the pack in last year’s Galactic Stars, it did tie for second in most Stars nominees, as well as running the Best Novel and Best Short Fiction Hugo winners. Up through the June issue of this year, every issue has had at least one truly outstanding story, and of course, there was the wonderful Hugo winners issue

Speaking of the Hugo winners issue, will Fred try to put out another one next year? I’m not hopeful. There were four potential authors last year, thanks to the tie for Best Novel and the one-time Best Series award. For next year, there are only three, even with the addition of another category in short fiction, and Heinlein hasn’t written a short story in almost a decade. Although, Best Fan Writer (and occasional Journey contributer) Alexei Panshin does have some professional sales… No, I’m not getting my hopes up.

Okay, new Leiber is promising, and James White is usually pretty good.




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Magazine, Science Fiction/Fantasy, Serial

[September 2, 1967] Of Genies and Bottles (October 1967 IF)

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by David Levinson

The radiant genie

They say that, once you let the genie out of the bottle, it can be very hard to get him back in. Twenty-two years ago, we unleashed the genie of atomic warfare, and it has loomed ominously over humanity ever since. Most of us remember the tension of the Cuban Missile Crisis just five years ago (though it seems both farther in the past and more recent) and probably still feel a little uneasy whenever a warning siren goes off. Current predictions estimate as many as 25-30 nuclear-armed countries within 20 years.

William C. Foster, the chief American representative to the Eighteen Nation Committee on Disarmament.

Is this an inevitability? Perhaps not. In 1960, the Ten Nation Committee on Disarmament, composed of five Western and five Eastern countries, met briefly in the spring and early summer, but adjourned indefinitely in the face of the U-2 incident and the collapse of the planned Paris summit. Toward the end of the following year, the U. N. created the Eighteen Nation Committee on Disarmament, composed of the original ten countries and another eight non-aligned nations, which has been meeting regularly in Geneva since March of 1962. On August 11th, William C. Foster, the chief American representative on the committee, announced that the United States and the Soviet Union have agreed in principle on the terms of a nuclear non-proliferation treaty. The two nations submitted identical drafts to the U. N. on the 24th. These will (hopefully) form the basis of a treaty to be voted on by the General Assembly, that will at least rein in the genie.

A bottle of jinn

There are a couple of metaphorical genies out of the bottle in this month’s IF, not to mention all the demons of Hell. Let’s pop the cork.

The art is intriguing, but none of this happens in Hal Clement’s new novel. Art by Castellon

Ocean on Top (Part 1 of 3), by Hal Clement

Our unnamed narrator (he hates his name and won’t say what it is) is an investigator for the Power Board looking into the disappearance of three other investigators near Easter Island. Stealthily sinking to the bottom of the sea, he discovers lights shining on the sea floor – a massive and criminal waste of power – and what seems to be an entire settlement of people. After being found out, he nearly escapes, but is ultimately captured and brought into the base. There he is astonished as he observes his captors removing their helmets, regardless of not only the tremendous pressure, but also the fact that they are still in a watery environment. To be continued.

These underwater criminals ought to be crushed before they have the chance to drown. Art by Castellon

Since this is Hal Clement, there’s undoubtedly some scientific principle at work, but this is otherwise an unusual story for him. This first installment is almost all action (albeit in slow motion, as befits the underwater setting) and has a much darker tone than he usually uses. At this point, we’re left mostly with questions.

Three stars.

Conqueror, by Larry Eisenberg

Joe is a member of the occupying forces on an alien planet. Command keeps careful control on soldiers’ access to booze and sex in order to maintain peaceful relations with the locals, and Joe is getting desperate for the latter. He’s not willing to use one of the androids the natives use, and local women willing to offer themselves to the occupiers are few and far between. So when he runs into a woman willing to go with him in exchange for food, he jumps at the chance.

Eisenberg’s output has been fairly hit or miss thus far. This tale doesn’t quite have the punch he’d like it to have, but it’s reasonably well done and has a sting in its tail.

A high three stars.

Fans Down Under, by Lin Carter

Science fiction fandom isn’t just an American phenomenon, so Our Man in Fandom has decided to take a world tour. First stop is Australia, which seems to be a real hotbed of SF activity, with Melbourne the apparent center. Despite its name, the Australian Science Fiction Review is not a serious, literary fanzine, but one that looks at SF as entertainment and offers lively criticism that pulls no punches. Meanwhile, the Melbourne Science Fiction Club has come up with the idea of holding regular screenings of SF movies and also maintains a lending library. I imagine both are the consequence of the difficulty of finding SF from the rest of the world.

Three stars.

Enemy of the Silkies, by A. E. van Vogt

Silkies were thought to be genetically engineered humans capable of living underwater and in space as easily as on land. In the last story, it was revealed that they are actually aliens, and at the end the Earth was orbiting a giant sun along with thousands of other worlds. When contact is made with the ancient enemies of the Silkies, it is once again up to Nat Cemp to solve the problems of his people and planet.The Nijjan and Silkies are ancient enemies. Art by Gaughan

All three Silkie stories follow the same pattern: Nat encounters an alien threat, learns a new mental ability from the alien, and uses it to defeat the enemy. If you liked the others, you’ll probably like this one.

Barely three stars.

The Food of Mars, by Max H. Flindt

There may be lichen on Mars. Some lichens are edible. Therefore, astronauts who go to Mars will be able to eat lichen.

Never have I seen so many errors of fact in a science article, not even in an Analog article on the Dean drive or using astrology to predict the weather. The author begins with the assertion that there are obviously artificial canals on Mars, thus the areas of color change sometimes observed there must be lichen. This was written before the Mariner photos came out, but even then the idea of Martian canals was a dying, minority opinion. He then discusses lichen in the diets of some human populations (true) and details his own experiences eating Spanish Moss (not a lichen) and Ear of the Wood and Ear of the Rock bought in Chinatown (both are mushrooms).

One star.

Winter of the Llangs, by C. C. MacApp

Chimmuh is an adolescent krote whose herd has been caught in their summering place by early snows. The elderly and weak will be left behind, likely to fall prey to the vicious llangs. As tradition demands, he will remain with his mother, who will deliver a new calf soon. His ingenuity finds the group a place to camp that is easily defended against the llangs, and with luck they can hold out until the return of a hunting party under the command of his father. But that party might pass them by unaware, so it is up to Chimmuh to venture out alone to try to make contact.

Chimmuh fights a pair of llangs. Art by Virgil Finlay

This is a fine little adventure story. Not exceptional, but a decent read. This is the kind of thing MacApp can do right.

Three stars.

Mu Panther, by Donald J. Walsh

A century or so after a couple of major nuclear power plant accidents resulted in mutant predators roaming the American west, Barry Everett and his partners are hired to track down a panther that’s raiding a large ranch in Wyoming. At over 35 feet from nose to tail, this wily creature will demand all their skill and perfect coordination.

This is a standard big game adventure tale – complete with rich idiot who refuses to listen to the experts – all with a science fiction spin. It’s fairly well-written for a freshman effort, even if it’s nothing special.

Three stars.

Faust Aleph-Null (Part 3 of 3), by James Blish

Arms-dealer Baines has hired the black sorcerer Theron Ware to grant a number of high-ranking demons free reign upon the Earth for 24 hours. It goes about as well as you might expect.

Baphomet drops by for some exposition. Art by Gray Morrow

James Blish appears to have been possessed by Philip José Farmer. There’s an interesting story here, but it comes to an unsatisfying and abrupt halt. The story’s end should be the end of the second act. Worse, there’s, at most, enough here for a novelette. Much of the previous installments had subplots and character introductions that serve no purpose to the story. This time, a full page is given to rattling off the names of several white monks, who are just inserts of various science fiction authors (my favorite: Fr. Anson, “a brusque engineer-type who specialized in unclouding the minds of politicians”–note that the "A" in Robert A. Heinlein stands for "Anson"). Six pages are dedicated to the summoning, five of them just for the names and descriptions of several of the demons. This isn’t a story, it’s Blish showing off his research. Much like I said last month, interesting but not necessary. And then everything hits a brick wall and just stops.

Barely three stars for this part and only two for the whole (which is less than the sum of its parts).

Summing up

Another march down the path of mediocrity. There’s some decent stuff here, and some that could be better. Particularly the Blish. It’s a decent setting without the gem it needs. I’ve been saying I’d settle for something really bad, and I certainly got it with the “fact” article. I should be careful what I wish for. As it is, I’d be happy if, for once, I can say more than Señor Wences’ Pedro. “’S all right.”

At least a new Berserker story sounds promising.




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Magazine, Science Fiction/Fantasy, Serial

[August 31, 1966] Flights of Fancy (September 1966 Analog)

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by Gideon Marcus

Nonstandard Deviation

Mr. Campbell of the good ship Analog is an interesting character.  Known for his strident, occasionally downright offensive editorials, his fetish for pseudoscience, and his increasingly inconsistent (one might say half-hearted) story selection, he is both much-loved and much-maligned.

But, as Galactic Journey's editor likes to say, people contain multitudes.  Or more simply, he and his magazine aren't all bad.  If Analog sometimes hits disappointing lows, it also still reaches highs reminiscent of Analog's golden days (when it was called Astounding).  His story sets are not monolithic.  Sometimes they're downright surprising.

As Exhibit A, I submit the September 1966 Analog, a most unusual issue:

Charting new terrain


by John Schoenherr

The Mechanic, by Hal Clement

Hal Clement is best known for his nuts-and-bolts science fiction, as crunchy as unmilked cereal — and often as dry.  This piece tells the tale of a near-future hydrofoil dispatched to the Arctic to determine what's causing the extinction of zeowhales.  These cybernetic creatures have metal bodies but psuedoliving flesh, and some disease is dissolving them from the inside out.

Of course, the hydrofoil is also metallic, and bad things happen to a disintegrating ship zooming along at hundreds of miles per hour.


by Kelly Freas

Slow to start and very very explanatory, but the ideas are interesting and the latter half riveting if gruesome.

Three stars.

A Matter of Reality, by Carole E. Scott


by Leo Summers

A common charge leveled at Campbell is that he doesn't like to publish women.  I don't think that's fair.  The industry as a whole has an unfortunate shortage of woman-penned stories.  If Analog tends to be mostly a stag mag, it's just at one end of the bell curve, not a true outlier.  Indeed, Campbell discovered Pauline Ashwell and Katherine Maclean, two of the field's brightest lights.

Women not only write for Analog, they read it, too: A Matter of Reality came off the slush pile, submitted by Ms. Scott, a self-proclaimed admirer of Campbell and his mag for nearly two decades. 

Her first story contains none of the Campbellian touchstones: no psionics, no smugly superior Terrans, etc.  Instead, it's an interesting piece about an old man's final act, a literal embodiment of the phrase, "All the world's a stage."

I'd expect to find such a fantastic piece in Galaxy or F&SF, but Scott likes Analog the best, and her story makes for a nice change of pace in Campbell's mag.

Three stars, and I look forward to her next piece.

… Not a Prison Make, by Joseph P. Martino


by John Schoenherr

With the Vietnam war escalating and the President calling for double the troops (600,000 — this proposal just rejected by Congress), it's not surprising that the situation is finding echoes in our science fiction.

Martino offers up a proxy war between the Terrans and the Kreg on a third-party planet peopled by primitives.  The humans are subject to the most debilitating hit and run raids by the indigenes, who possess the powers of teleportation and limited clairvoyance.

Two viewpoints are espoused in the story: the military leader opines that the raiders are bandits, and the best bandit is a dead one.  The civilian expert believes that the hearts and minds of the populace must be won or the insurgency will have infinite longevity. 

Some clever defenses are built up against the natives, but they only constitute delaying actions.  The paradigm must be radically altered if success is to be had.

This story really had potential, but it ended just as it was getting interesting, and with none of the more profound points addressed.  Of course, no one really knows how to end a guerilla insurgency (predicting its death by the close of this century seems optimistic), but I'm dissatisfied with a story that concludes essentially with "then we won!"  I did appreciate that the characters were all South/Southeast Asian (from what I know of surnames).

Three stars.

Challenge, by Joe Poyer

The fictional piece is followed by an in-depth analysis of insurgency and counter-insurgency.  The author suggests that until the counter-insurgents learn to fight the insurgent game, and better than the insurgents, they won't win.  Interestingly, the latest plan for Vietnam is to field division-sized battlefield units, not just to quell the VC, but also to engage in peaceful, nation-building activities.  I'm not hopeful.

Anyway, Challenge is not a bad piece, though I don't know that it qualifies as "science."  Also, I would not classify the Watts riots as an insurrection.

I miss Robert S. Richardson's astronomy articles.  Three stars.

Symbols, by Christopher Anvil


by Kelly Freas

The river has frozen a month early, and the Gurt are under attack.  The Ghisrans are pouring across the ice now, threatening a precious mine that is vital to the Terran Navy.  If a handful of agents with an unarmed spaceboat are unable to stop them, the sector may fall.

I'm not sure what's more offensive: the portrayal of the lone female character as "hysterical" or the padding of this vignette to double size with Campbell-pleasing folderol about symbolic logic. 

Definitely the most reactionary of this month's pieces.  Two stars.

Too Many Magicians (Part 2 of 4), by Randall Garrett


by John Schoenherr

Ahh, but all that is washed away with the latest installment of the adventures of Lord Darcy, investigator in an alternate 1966 where thaumaturgy has trumped science.  As we saw last time, there had been two murders by unknown assailants, both by similar knives.  One of the victims was an Imperial double agent, killed while trying to ferret out a traitorous Anglo-Frenchman.  The other was an exalted state wizard.

The bombshell of this installment is that the two murders are connected, tightly.

A lot of great detective work in this one, as well as a tour to magical London's equivalent of a World Expo.  Garrett channels Doyle more and more these days, but so far it's working.

Four stars!

Charting a New Course

This experimental issue of Analog doesn't break any records, finishing dead-averagely at 3 stars.  Nevertheless, I applaud Campbell's willingness to experiment, and I enjoyed the issue.  Finishing above it were the superlative New Worlds (3.8 stars), the fine Fantasy and Science Fiction (3.5 stars), and the decent (but mostly because of a reprint) SF Impulse (3.2 stars).

Analog barely edged out IF (3 stars) and decidedly beat Fantastic (2.7 stars).

It was a good month overall for reading.  If one took all the magazine stories/serials that got 4 or 5 stars, they could potentially fill three magazines!  Also, women were responsible for 15.6% of all new fiction, a high water mark for sure.

On this triumphant note, I am off to Cleveland for this year's Worldcon.  Who will win the Hugos?  We'll have to wait a week to find out!  Rest assured, you'll be able to read all about it here long before the next edition of Ratatosk or Focal Point (or Skyrack, for my British friends) hits your mailbox.

And if you are in Cleveland next weekend, be certain to join us for the showing of the first Star Trek pilot at 7pm Eastern (4pm Pacific!).




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Serial

[July 2, 1966] The Big Thud (August 1966 IF)

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by David Levinson

This is the way the world ends
Not with a bang but a whimper
– T. S. Eliot, The Hollow Men

Starting with a Bang

This month, we note with regret the passing of Monsignor Georges Lemaître on June 20th, at the age of 71. You are likely wondering who that was and what a Catholic priest has to do with the sort of things we usually discuss here at the Journey. Though not well known in America, Msgr. Lemaître was one of the most important theoretical astronomers of this century. After earning his PhD. in mathematics in his native Belgium, he spent a year at Cambridge under Arthur Eddington, who introduced him to modern cosmology, followed by a year at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology under Harlow Shapley. In 1927, he published a paper in a minor Belgian journal in which he proposed that the red shift of other galaxies could be explained by an expanding universe. That was two years before Edwin Hubble published his theory of a relationship between velocity and distance for extragalactic bodies. Lemaître also made a first estimation of the constant now called the Hubble constant.

Then in 1931, he suggested that the vectors of all the objects could be tracked backwards to a single point. He dubbed this the “primeval atom”. This is the beginning of the theory which Fred Hoyle called the “big bang” in contrast to his favored steady-state theory. The evidence in favor of Lemaître’s theory has mounted over the years, and it now looks to be the best explanation for the beginning of the universe. The Monsignor was also a mathematician and one of the first people to use computers for cosmological calculations. He was elected to the Pontifical Academy of Sciences in 1946 and served as its president since 1960. Although a devout Catholic, he firmly believed that science and religion were not in conflict, but nevertheless should not be mixed.


Lemaître with Robert Millikan and Albert Einstein following a lecture at the California Institute of Technology in 1933.

Ending with a Whimper

They say an author should try to come up with a good opening line, or hook, to grab the reader’s attention. Things like “It was a bright cold day in April, and the clocks were striking thirteen,” “It was a pleasure to burn,” or (one of my favorites) “If I had cared to live, I would have died.” It’s important to start with a bang, but all too often writers forget about a satisfying ending. Stories taper off into nothing, plot threads are never tied up, or ridiculous bits of action are introduced out of nowhere to get the author out of a corner they painted themselves into. Quite a few of the stories in this month’s IF start off promisingly, if not with a bang, and end not with a whimper, but a resounding thud.


No matter what the Table of Contents says, this outer space construction site has nothing to do with The Foundling Stars. Art by McKenna

The Foundling Stars, by Hal Clement

Astronomer Elvin Toner doesn’t accept the standard theory of star formation which says that random fluctuations in the density of nebulae initiate a snowball effect that allows the gas to become dense enough to trigger stellar ignition. So he has come to the Orion Spur along with his assistant Dick Ledermann and pilots Hoey and Luisi to perform an experiment. He intends to run an interferometer with a baseline of several light-hours on the gas and dust of the nebula. That means the pilots will have to hold their ships completely motionless with respect to each other. Because a change in the center of gravity of either ship by as much as a micron will ruin the experiment, the two men will have to remain as motionless as possible for several hours. The first run hiccups for some unknown reason, and on the second Hoey sneezes.


Toner and Ledermann await the results. Art by McClane

This starts off like a typical Hal Clement story. Unfortunately, once Hoey sneezes, the story becomes more like something from the ‘40s written by one of those lesser authors who are forgotten today. The secret to stellar formation is the most un-Clement-like answer I can think of. Well-written, and I might have liked it better under a different name.

A disappointing three stars.

Slot Machine, by H. B. Michel

Two aliens (or maybe demons) are playing the slots in a casino, using humans as currency. They act just like a married human couple.

Michel is this month’s first time author. The story is awful. I have a vague sense of what the writer was aiming for, but it’s a complete miss. Maybe if I knew what slot machine symbols mean, I’d have understood it a little better.

One star.

Peace Corps, by Robert Moore Williams

Jim Jiro is a member of the Peace Corps. Not the youth volunteer organization called into being by President Kennedy, but an intelligence organization of the world government, much like the CIA or MI-6. He’s on his way back from the Moon, where miners have been disappearing. Pursued by invisible aliens, he falls into the hands of their human criminal allies. How high a price will he have to pay in order to save humanity?


Jim checks the mirror for invisible enemies. Art by Virgil Finlay

The story is as bad as that precis makes it sound, but it actually gets off to a promising start. Unfortunately, it soon stumbles and eventually comes to a crashing thud. Williams has been around since the late ‘30s and the plot is entirely out of those days, although the writing itself is more modern. I’ve never understood why criminal organizations always aid invading aliens in these sorts of stories. It’s as if they have no sense of self-preservation. Anyway, the descent into the worst of the pulp era is all the more disappointing after a good start.

Two stars.

Conventions Galore, by Lin Carter

After looking at Worldcon last month, this time around Our Man in Fandom takes a look at other conventions around the United States. From relaxed conventionettes to fully programmed conventions, there are lots of get-togethers all over. Alas, due to the demands of publishing many of them have already happened, but it’s worth a look to see if something might be happening in your area.

Three stars.

The Hour Before Earthrise (Part 2 of 3), by James Blish

In the first installment, teenager Dolph Haertl invented anti-gravity and flew to Mars in a packing crate, followed soon after by his almost girlfriend Nanette. We open this month with the kids’ parents gradually coming to believe the truth and the story getting picked up by the press, first as a silly season piece and then a “baby in the well” story. Eventually, everyone but the parents decide there’s no way the kids could still be alive. However, one or two mathematicians have started working on Dolph’s theory.

Meanwhile on Mars, Dolph and Nanette manage to survive. They’re able to expand their shelter somewhat and resort to eating the residue of the lichen they process for oxygen and water. Amazingly, after eating the stuff, they are able to survive for a time outside without oxygen or warm clothing. They discover a sort of lobster-scorpion they can use to supplement their diet, and then Dolph finds a weak radio signal, apparently a beacon. Hoping to attract the attention of whoever is behind the beacon, he comes up with a way to interrupt the signal. As the installment ends, they encounter a large cat-like predator. To be concluded.


Dolph contemplates lunch. Art by Morrow.

I was pretty hard on this novel last month. Things have improved somewhat. Blish has dropped the alternation of story and science lecture that made me compare this to Danny Dunn. This is closer to a Heinlein juvenile, with a focus on survival through technology and engineering. I’m tempted to give Blish points for acknowledging the basic facts of human female biology, but he loses them for literally connecting menstruation to the Moon. Toss in the still silly premise and a Mars that is somewhere between that of the old planetary romances and what we know of Mars today and the improvements don’t add up to much.

Just barely three stars.

He Looked Back, by Carl Jacobi

After running out of money on her Caribbean vacation, narrator Jennie has wound up in the country of San Carlo. She landed a job running a hotel switchboard and taking shorthand occasionally on the side. Captain Juan La Cola of the Confidential Police is staying at the hotel and seems to have foreknowledge of accidents befalling high-ranking members of the government and has expressed unhappiness with the dictator running his country. With a bit of snooping, Jennie discovers that he also has some odd allies.

Now, that’s a name I’ve not heard in a long time. Jacobi was a pretty big deal in the Pulp Era. He was best known for his weird fiction and adventure tales, almost single-handedly turning adventures set in Borneo and Baluchistan into genres of their own. His science fiction was less successful, mostly space opera of the lesser sort. Although the pulpy bones of this story are clear, it still manages to be relatively modern. The prose isn’t purple, the plot doesn’t rely overmuch on coincidence, and Jennie’s voice is very authentic. It could have been shorter, and the ending is very much from thirty years ago, but it’s not a bad read.

Three stars.

The Junk Man Cometh, by Robin Scott

Perce Sansoni, now an ex-congressman from West Virginia thanks to bucking the party machine and contemplating an independent run for Senator, has returned to the family junk business. They pick up some Army surplus generators for a song, but the crew bringing them to junkyard is hijacked, killing two employees and sending brother Buzz to the hospital. Eventually, the hijackers are proven to be aliens and Perce is captured for a time. Everything heads to a final confrontation in the family junkyard.


One of the hijackers. Art by Gaughan

Not a great story, but probably the best in a fairly weak issue. It’s certainly the only one that doesn’t trip over its own feet and has a reasonably satisfying ending. Perce is an engaging narrator and his family is well drawn. At the very least, it’s the one story this month where I could say, “I enjoyed that.”

A solid, but not quite high, three stars.

Summing Up

What have we learned this month? Endings are hard. Sometimes even old pros can’t quite figure out how to wrap things up. No matter how good your hook is, if you leave the reader unhappy at the end, it’s going to be harder to set the hook next time. If you can’t go out with a bang, at least hope for a whimper, because a thud is the least satisfying thing of all. As Walter Cronkite says, “That’s the way it is.”


Chandler playing with alternate universes again. Hope this one’s better than the last.




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Magazine, Serial

[April 2, 1965] SPEAKING A COMMON LANGUAGE (May 1965 IF)

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by David Levinson

The Common Tongue

March 7th was the first Sunday of Lent. It's a particularly special event this year as Catholics can now hear mass in their local language, rather than Latin. Pope Paul VI marked the occasion by conducting services in Italian at a small church near the Vatican. Mass in the vernacular is not required, but it is encouraged. This is one of the reforms instituted last year as a way to get parishioners more involved in the Catholic faith.

In Living Color

Color television appears to be moving beyond the fad phase. And for that to happen the broadcasters and receivers need to “speak the same language.” The signal the antenna on your roof receives carries a lot of different information. Most of it tells the TV set how bright to make each phosphor dot, some of it tells the speaker what sound to make. The color information is a subset of the brightness information.

In the United States, a standard was developed about a decade ago by the National Television System Committee, commonly known by the committee’s initials, NTSC. It works pretty well, but under poor transmission conditions the colors can shift. (The joke among signal engineers is that NTSC stands for “Never the same color.”) Europe is subject to geographic and weather conditions which are bad for NTSC and so the governments of Western Europe have been looking for a new system better suited to Europe. Two have been developed: the French SECAM (Séquentiel couleur à mémoire or sequential color with memory) and the German PAL (Phased Alternating Line).


Rectangular screens. That’s a big improvement.

On March 22nd, the France announced that they had signed an agreement with the Soviet Union under which the Russians will use a slightly modified form of SECAM. Two days later, a conference opened in Vienna to discuss a common system for Western Europe. Ultimately, the conference chose PAL. The French however are sticking to their guns, so while most of Europe will be using PAL, France and the East Bloc will be going with SECAM. So much for commonality.

Speaking of Common

This month’s IF certainly delivers a heap of the familiar, from old, familiar faces to old, familiar themes.


Art by Schelling

When Is a Robot? (Editorial), by Frederik Pohl

Normally, we don’t discuss editorials here (and when it comes to Analog that’s better for everyone’s sanity and blood pressure), but Fred touches on an interesting, science fictional and probably controversial topic that’s worth examining. He’s been reading The Semi-Artificial Man by Harold M. Schmeck, which discusses the ways in which doctors are using machinery to temporarily replace the functions of various organs. The example Fred offers is the dialysis machine which does the work of the kidneys, but other examples would be the pacemaker or the heart-lung machine.

Right now, these devices are mostly poor and, at best, temporary substitutes. But what happens when they offer better functions than the organs they replace? Electronic lungs that can breathe seawater or the noxious gases of Jupiter. Or prosthetic limbs that can allow their wearer to run faster or lift heavy things. Pohl introduces the term “cybernetic organism” or cyborg for short. The question he asks is if someone equipped with such replacements might become something other than human. Is there a point at which you become something other than you as your parts are replaced? This is related to what is known in philosophy the Ship of Theseus problem. You might be more familiar with the Grandfather’s Axe: This is my grandfather’s axe; my father replaced the handle and I replaced the head. In any case, it’s an interesting area of speculation, and there are probably several good science fiction stories to be told dealing with this.  [Nick Chooper a.k.a. The Tin Woodman has thoughts on the matter, too. (Ed.)]

Raindrop, by Hal Clement

Raindrop is a ten mile wide sphere of water orbiting the Earth. It was created by melting comets. At its core, is a rocky asteroid and whatever solids may have been contained in the comets. The water is protected from the vacuum of space by a self-repairing skin of genetically tailored algae. Because it came from comets, the water currently has a fairly high concentration of ammonia, which is slowly being broken down by algae, fungi, and various single-celled organisms. The original purpose of Raindrop was to find a way to produce food to help feed the 14 billion people on Earth, who are slowly crowding out arable land and facing a Malthusian catastrophe.

Orbiting nearby is a wheel-shaped space station which rotates to provide gravity for the scientists who come up to study Raindrop. There is only one permanent resident, Bert Silbert, who monitors and maintains both the station and Raindrop.

As the story opens, Raindrop has been purchased by a private group and a high-ranking member of the group, Aino Weisenan, has arrived with his wife Brenda and assistant Bresnahan (who never gets a first name). Silbert is showing Bresnahan around the Raindrop, providing tons of exposition and a couple of lessons in orbital mechanics. We learn that the Weisenans have brought lots of equipment and macroscopic life and are planning to settle Raindrop. Ultimately, we learn that they and the group they represent are the descendants of people who were illegally genetically tailored to live in low and zero gravity conditions. Bresnahan starts an argument with his boss about abandoning the original purpose of Raindrop, and he and Silbert find themselves abandoned at the core.


Aino Weisenan sets an anchor. Art by John Giunta

If you’re at all familiar with the work of Hal Clement, you undoubtedly are expecting a happy ending, and you won’t be disappointed. This is a very typical Clement piece, centered on one or two scientific principles and turning them into the solution to a problem. Unusually, he does make a small scientific error. There are a number of cargo loads, each weighing 1000 pounds on Earth. In the extremely low gravity of Raindrop, they weigh only a few ounces each, and the men handle them easily. But Clement has forgotten the difference between mass and weight. Those loads might only weigh a few ounces, but they should still have the inertia of a thousand pounds. Anyway, if you like Clement – and I do – you should like this. Three stars.

Guesting Time, by R. A. Lafferty

People suddenly begin appearing all over the world. The rate at which they appear increases exponentially until there are 10 billion of them in just two days. According to the arrivals, they are from Skandia, and they are shocked and saddened to see how few of us there are. They also announce that they are a token force just here for a short visit and haven’t brought their children with them.

We see the effects of this invasion largely through the eyes of the suburban Trux family and President Bar-John. Whole cities are built in people’s backyards — so many they carpet the ground, vehicular traffic is blocked, and pedestrian traffic is stacked five high, with people riding on each other’s shoulders. They start handing our fertility charms to help us with our obvious problems in having children.

Through all of this, most people seem to really like the friendly Skandians. The few dissenters appear as cranks and street-corner preachers. Aside from those, only government leaders try to do anything about the Skandians, but the visitors prove to be impervious to bullets. After a week, they begin to disappear, but promise to come back next week with the kids.

Although this story shares the theme of overpopulation with the previous story, there’s certainly nothing common about R. A. Lafferty and the language he uses. He’s a very odd duck. Generally speaking his stories and the ways he tells them should not work, yet they do. Not always and not for everyone, but enough so that his stories sell. I tend to find him a bit hit or miss, and this one comes very close to being a miss for me. I think my biggest complaint is that an additional 10 billion people scattered all over the world aren’t going to produce conditions that make Calcutta look like Wyoming. You can put it down to typical Lafferty hyperbole, but it nagged at me. Three stars, but just barely.

Sign of the Wolf, by Fred Saberhagen

A shepherd lad by the name of Duncan is having trouble with a wolf attacking the village sheep which are in his care. He is also hoping to have a mystical experience, which would allow him to attain adulthood. Through his wandering thoughts we learn that people are said to have come here from Earthland, which is somewhere in the sky, though most consider that to be allegorical. That dawn, he sees a bright flash in the sky and hopes that it is his vision.

The scene switches to a Berserker entering a star system. It is wary, because it senses defensive satellites in orbit around one of the planets. They should not be a problem, but if there are also planetary defenses, it could be destroyed. These are things it has learned during the centuries that Berserker and humans have been at war. As a test, it launches a missile at the planet, where it is destroyed by the satellites.

Duncan learns from a passing priest that too many people saw the flash for it to count as a private vision. Later he is visited by Colleen, a girl from his village. She stays too long and, after leaving Duncan, returns to him, because she can’t get home before dark. During her absence, Duncan has begun to hear voices from the ground, but following them would mean abandoning the sheep. Her return allows him to follow the voices to an unknown cave, where they are announcing that an attack is in progress and requesting a human to give “Order One.” Duncan’s response resolves the story.

This is interspersed with more scenes involving the Berserker. It continues to be wary, but remembers one other planet which had defensive satellites but no cities or radio, because the life there had gone to war with itself. Eventually, it sends down robotic units to begin eliminating life.

Saberhagen continues to keep these Berserker stories diverse and about a lot more than just killing machines and space battles. They’re about people. The parallels here between the wolf and the Berserker are pretty obvious, but they aren’t too heavy-handed. Indeed, Saberhagen handles it all with a fair amount of skill. A high three stars, with the obviousness of the parallel keeping it from that fourth star.

Way Station, by Irving E. Cox, Jr.

At Marstation, teacher Bruce Haywood is on trial for heresy against Orthodox Science. He has been telling his charges that it is safe to leave the airseal dome without a sacred helmet when performing the routines and rituals of the landing field. Through the trial, we get the story of his life through flashbacks. As a boy, he learned that the girders of the dome have neither glass nor an atomic energy field between them. As a student, he was allowed to read the actual works of St. Einstein and St. Darwin. In the end, he is cast out of the dome, though perhaps not to the fate he fears.


Honestly, this is the least ugly of the illustrations for this story. Art by Nodel

Irving Cox turned out quite a few stories during the 50s, averaging four or five a year. Most of them were sold to the lesser mags, but he had a few in Astounding and IF as well. His work has tapered off in the last few years, but he was never the sort of writer that would make you wonder “What ever happened to…?” A journeyman at best, and this continues that trend. Thing is, if you’re going to give your story the same name as last year’s Hugo-winning novel, then you had better hit a home run. At best, this is a bouncing single that got through because the shortstop was out of position. It’s not terrible, but I can’t find my way to giving it more than a high two stars. Maybe I was put off by the hideous art.

Strong Current, by David Goodale

Scout Ship 1014 is forced to make an emergency landing on the planet Toran. The three-man crew is barely able to escape the ship with a few supplies before it explodes. They know that the planet is inhabited, but the rest of the information was lost in the crash. They make their way to a coastal city, only to find it empty and its streets flooded. There don’t appear to be any ground-level doors, and there are a number of metal rods sticking out of the buildings, each of which gives off a strong electrical shock. Once they make their way into a building through the roof, they find many more metallic objects which give off shocks. Eventually, the youngest member of the crew figures things out, enabling them to make contact with the locals and to get in touch with the nearest base.

Goodale is this month’s new author, and he gives us a pretty good problem story, of the sort you might expect to find in Analog. In fact, I wondered why I wasn’t reading it there. Then I realized that 1) the person who solves the problem is a slender Asian, not one of the two brawny men of northern European extraction, and 2) the aliens are friendly, competent, and engage with the humans as equals. In any case, it’s a good story marred only by the author capping it off with a not very funny gag. A solid three stars.

The Altar at Asconel (Part 2 of 2), by John Brunner

When last we left our “heroes,” teenage mutant telepath Eunora was threatening to bend everybody to her will. Turns out she can’t. Not for any special reason. She just doesn’t have the power, which, frankly, is a rather poor resolution to a decent cliffhanger. In any case, Spartak then mentally browbeats her with the state she was in when she came aboard and all the awful things she would have to do in order to maintain her control if she had it. There’s that wonderful non-violence again. Vineta then takes over the girl and mothers her into joining their group and their cause.

Off they go to Asconel, deciding to bypass the resistance ensconced on an outer world of the star system. They land in secret on a small island, the only city of which has a temple to Belizuek, disguise themselves, and head for town. The brothers are distressed to see how far society has regressed in just a few years. We’re talking very far, from high-tech to pre-industrial, which seems like it ought to have taken decades.

Their entire plan consists of going to the local temple in order to find out why people have been so easily won over. During services they are exposed to a psychic vision of the galaxy and a mind of immense power. Spartak seems to have succumbed, but he’s just lost in thought about what he’s seen. Afterwards, they make contact with a man by the name of Tharl. By good luck and happenstance, he had served under Vix and has resisted Belizuek, because his wife and child were the first in their town to give themselves up for whatever unspeakable purpose people are being taken.

Spartak takes readings of the temple and discovers that the inner dome holds an atmosphere unlike that which humans can breathe. Unfortunately, they are caught. Spartak and Eunora escape, but Vineta is wounded and Vix and Tiorin are captured. A ceremony where they will willingly give themselves to Belizuek in the grand temple in the capital is announced and Spartak hatches a plan (involving, naturally, somebody else doing something violent) to free them and the rest of Asconel. Thanks to luck and coincidence, it succeeds.

In the end, Tiorin is the new Warden of Asconel. Spartak is planning to go out to the Big Dark, where humans are said to be building their own spaceships. Eunora will accompany him. Vix, unable to stay on the world where Vineta died, offers his ship and his services as pilot.


A montage of the heroes and villains. Art by Gray Morrow

It’s all really just fair to middling space opera. Not as much coincidence and excessive exposition as in the first installment, but some. There were also some dropped plot threads, like the injunction on Spartak to avoid violence and the loyal resistance on the outer planet. Neither really served any purpose in the story. I think I was most annoyed by the death of Vineta, more so because it happened off screen, so to speak. And apparently it was just so Vix would have a reason to go off with Spartak at the end.

I gave the first half a grudging three stars, and this half is better that the first, so I guess it gets three stars as well, as does the story as a whole. I’d probably feel less reluctant about that rating if this had been written by someone else. C. C. MacApp or J. T. McIntosh, for example. Brunner is a much better writer than this hackneyed stuff, and he fails to elevate it to something more. Alas, it seems like he has more of this story to tell.

Summing Up

A bit of a mixed bag of common elements this month: authors who’ve been around for a while, authors who are still fairly new, but have made names for themselves; two stories about overpopulation, two about societies that have lost their technological capabilities (two-and-a-half, if you count Asconel), a good, old problem story. It’s not as bad as last month, but it wasn’t that long ago that IF was one of the best magazines out there.


Speaking of space opera…

We had so much success with our first episode of The Journey Show (you can watch the kinescope rerun; check local listings for details) that we're going to have another one on April 11 at 1PM PDT with The Young Traveler as the special musical guest.  As the kids say, be there or be square!

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[July 10, 1963] (August 1963 Galaxy)

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by Gideon Marcus

Last week, we marked the 187th birthday of the United States in traditional fashion.  We launched fireworks, marched in parades, read the Declaration of Independence, and otherwise honored the creation of the world's oldest extant constitutional democracy.  There is a lot to be proud of in the last two centuries of progress, which has seen our nation elevated to the status of first among equals.

At the same time, we still have a long way to go, as evidenced by the numerous Civil Rights protests that have occurred and are occurring around the country every day.  In them, one can see echoes of the original revolution, the one sparked by the land-holding, enfranchised WASPs of the colonies.  Let us hope that the benefits secured by that small group will one day extend to everyone.


Protesters of segregation at Gwynn Oak Park, just outside Baltimore, including Allison Turaj, who had a rock thrown at her.

Speaking of revolutions, every two months, we get to take the pulse of the one started by H.L. Gold, who threw down the gauntlet at the feet of pulp sci-fi in 1950 when he started his scientifiction magazine, Galaxy.  It was once a monthly magazine, but since 1959 it has been a half-again-sized bi-monthly.  This was a cost-saving measure, as was the reduction of writers' rates.  The latter caused a tangible (if not fatal) drop in quality, and it is my understanding that it either has recently been or will soon be reversed.

Thus, the August 1963 Galaxy is a mixed bag, with standout stories by lesser authors and lesser stories by standout authors.  Take a look:

Hot Planet, by Hal Clement

The once great Hugo-winner, Hal Clement, again brings us a scientifically rigorous but largely unreadable tale of an alien planet.  Last time, it was The Green World, about a young planet with paradoxically old features.  This time, the subject is closer to home.  Mercury, as we have described previously, orbits closest to the sun of all the planets, and the sun's gravity likely has frozen the planet's rotation such that it always presents one face to its parent. 

Clement posits that Mercury is so close to the sun, in fact, that the tides (the differential of gravity between the near and far sides of the planet) are strong enough to melt the planet's insides.  This, in turn, causes tremendous vulcanism such that giant cones belch forth internal gasses and give the little world an atmosphere (albeit a scalding and unbreathable one).  This is the Mercury portrayed in The Hot Planet.

It's a fascinating idea, one I've not seen advanced in any of the scientific literature.  It's also highly plausible, and I suspect similar tidal heating is underway in some of the close-in moons of the giant planets. 

Unfortunately, the characters are cardboard, the plot is threadbare, and the writing soporific.  Perhaps Analog can pick Clement up to be their regular science writer, a role for which he is likely better suited.  Two stars.

The Great Nebraska Sea, by Allan Danzig

I've got a friend whose bag is disaster stories.  The bigger, the better.  Climatological events, nuclear wars, flashy alien invasions — he imagines them in the backdrop of his daily life to make it more exciting.  He'd really dig this new "history" written by newcomer, Allan Danzig. 

It's a simple, straightforward recounting of the great crustal shift of '73 that caused the Great Plains to sink dozens of feet and a great rift at the Gulf Coast to form, causing the ocean to permanently flood the central United States.  The event that caused the deaths of 14 million Americans is spun positively, seen through the lens of a far future that has used the Great Nebraska sea to great economic advantage.  Lyric in its matter-of-factness, it's a fun read.  Four stars.

Earthbound, by Lester del Rey

A tiny vignette which asks the question, "At one point does a prison the size of the world become intolerable confinement?"  It punches.  Four stars.

The Problem Makers, by Robert Hoskins

A covert agency of the Terran Empire is tasked with "advancing" the other planets of the galaxy.  Their philosophy is essentially Utilitarianism — if it benefits the most people, it is worthy…no matter how many people must suffer along the way.  Decently written, but it's a smug story, the kind I'd expect in Analog.  If Hoskins meant it as satire, it was too subtle for me.  It offended.  Two stars.

The Pain Peddlers, by Robert Silverberg

This is one of those truly unpleasant tales that I can't help admiring.  In the future, the medical credo has evolved to, "First, do no harm — unless you can make a buck by televising it."  And future television lets you feel as well as watch.  So a nation of sado-masochists gets to viscerally participate from the viewpoint of the patient, who undergoes surgery without anesthesia!  The Pain Peddlers is a dark tale of the production of such hospital shows.

It's good, feeling like it might have come from the pen of Robert Sheckley (where are you these days, Bob?) Four stars…but skip it if you're squeamish.

Here Gather the Stars (Part 2 of 2), by Clifford D. Simak

Last month, Cliff Simak introduced us to Enoch Wallace, a Civil War soldier who retired to rural Wisconsin, ultimately to become the immortal operator of a cosmic way-station.  There, he facilitates the teleportation of aliens across the galaxy.  This issue concludes Wallace's tale.

I mentioned in the first article that the work seemed strangely unpolished.  It meandered, and there was much duplication, as if the novel had not been strongly edited.  That feeling is even stronger in this second half, in which new concepts are introduced in an ad hoc matter. 

There are many several-page sequences which are cul-de-sacs, adding little to the story, and not particularly engaging in and of themselves (for instance, when Wallace goes into his virtual shooting gallery and fights a sequence of imaginary beasts).  We get a parade of alien visitors and gifts and Wallace's somber musing upon them, and sprinkled among them are plot points quickly introduced and resolved:

One of Wallace's actions, done at the request of an alien visitor, nearly causes Earth to be barred from admission to the interstellar group.  There is a Talisman that ties the universe together, but its keeper is unworthy, and so the galactic community is falling apart.  Then it turns out the Talisman has been stolen, and its thief chooses Earth to hide out on.  He is thwarted in his plans by Wallace as well as Lucy, the psychic healer, who it turns out is perfectly suited to be the new keeper.  All of this happens in Part 2 — none of it is hinted at in Part 1!

This all could have made for an interesting story, but the pacing is jagged.  In the end, Simak presents a dozen components but fails to unify or develop them in a satisfying manner.  It saddens me, for Simak is a great author, and there is the germ of a great story here.  As is, it's a three star novel badly in need of a complete rewrite. 

The Birds of Lorrane, by Bill Doede

Last up, Doede brings us the story of an Earther who plunges far beyond the pale of humanity to a desert world on which (it has been told) live a pair of sentient, talking birds.  He finds them, but at such cost that he is left at death's door.  Are the birds his salvation or his ruin?  Interesting, if a bit underdeveloped.  Three stars.

All in all, the revolution seems to have hit a rough patch.  Perhaps Galaxy's new editor, Fred Pohl, can weather this literary Valley Forge such that his ragtag army of new recruits can yet prevail…

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[April 9, 1963] IFfy… (May 1963 IF Science Fiction)

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by Gideon Marcus

Every month, science fiction stories come out in little digest-sized magazines.  It used to be that this was pretty much the only way one got their SF fix, and in the early '50s, there were some forty magazines jostling for newsstand space.  Nowadays, SF is increasingly sold in book form, and the numbers of the digests have been much reduced.  This is, in many ways, for the good.  There just wasn't enough quality to fill over three dozen monthly publications.

That said, though there are now fewer than ten regular SF mags, editors still can find it challenging to fill them all with the good stuff.  Editor Fred Pohl, who helms three magazines, has this problem in a big way.  He saves the exceptional stories and known authors (and the high per word rates) for his flagship digest, Galaxy, and also for his newest endeavor, Worlds of Tomorrow.  That leaves IF the straggler, filled with new authors and experimental works. 

Sometimes it succeeds.  Other times, like this month, it is clear that the little sister in Pohl's family of digests got the short end of the stick.  There's nothing stellar in the May 1963 IF, but some real clunkers, as you'll see.  I earned my pay (such as it is) this month!

The Green World, by Hal Clement

Hal Clement (or Harry Stubbs, if you want to know the name behind the pseudonym) has made a name for himself as a writer of ultrahard science fiction, lovingly depicting the nuts and bolts of accurate space-borne adventure.  The Green Planet details the archaeological and paleontological pursuits of a human expedition on an alien planet.  The puzzle is simple — how can a world not more than 50 million years old possess an advanced ecosystem and a hyper-evolved predator species? 

Clement's novella, which comprises half the issue, is not short on technical description.  What it lacks, however, is interesting characters and a compelling narrative.  I bounced off this story several times.  Each time, I asked myself, "Is it me?"  No, it's not.  It's a boring story, and the pay-off, three final pages that read like a cheat, aren't worth the time investment.  One star.

Die, Shadow!, by Algis Budrys

Every once in a while, you get a story that is absolutely beautiful, filled with lyrical writing, and yet, you're not quite sure what the hell just happened.  Budrys' tale of a modern-day Rip van Winkle, who sleeps tens of thousands of years after an attempted landing on Venus, is one of those.  I enjoyed reading it, but it was a little too subtle for me.  Still, it's probably the best piece in the issue (and perhaps more appropriate to Fantastic).  Three stars.

Rundown, by Robert Lory

Be kind to the worn-out bum begging for a dime — that coin might literally spell the difference between life and death.  A nicely done, if rather inconsequential vignette, from a first-time author.  Three stars.

Singleminded, by John Brunner

In the midst of a ratcheted-up Cold War, a stranded moon-ferry pilot is rescued by a chatty Soviet lass.  The meet cute is spoiled, by turns, first by the unshakable paranoia the pilot feels for the Communist, and second by the silly, incongruous ending.  I suspect only one of those was the writer's intention.  Three stars.

Nonpolitical New Frontiers, by Theodore Sturgeon
ans. Al Landau, gideon marcus, hal clement, harry s
Sturgeon continues to write rather uninspired, overly familiar non-fiction articles for IF.  In this one, Ted points out that fascinating science doesn't require rockets or foreign planets — even the lowly nematode is plenty interesting.  Three stars.

Another Earth, by David Evans and Al Landau

When I was 14, (mumblety-mumblety) years ago, I wrote what I thought was a clever and unique science fiction story.  It featured a colony starship with a cargo of spores and seeds that, through some improbable circumstance, travels in time and ends up in orbit around a planet that turns out to be primeval Earth.  The Captain decides to seed the lifeless planet, ("Let the land produce…") thus recreating the Biblical Genesis. 

I did not realize that Biblically inspired stories were (even then) hardly original.  In particular, the Adam and Eve myth gets revisited every so often.  It's such a hoary subject that these stories are now told with a wink (viz. Robert F. Young's Jupiter Found and R.A. Lafferty's In the Garden).

Why this long preface?  Because the overlong story that took two authors (and one undiscerning editor) to vomit onto the back pages of IF is just a retelling of the Noah myth.  An obvious one.  A bad one.  One star.

Turning Point, by Poul Anderson

Last up, the story the cover illustrates features a concept you won't find in Analog.  A crew of terran explorers finds a planet of aliens that, despite their primitive level of culture, are far more intelligent than humans.  The story lasts just long enough for us to see the solution we hatch to avoid our culture being eclipsed by these obviously superior extraterrestrials.  Not bad, but it suffers for the aliens being identical to humans.  Three stars.

Thus ends the worst showing from IF in three years.  Here's a suggestion: raise the cover price to 50 cents and pay more than a cent-and-a-half per word?

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[Oct. 21, 1961] Cause célèbre (Three years, and the November 1961 Analog)

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by Gideon Marcus

Three years ago, my wife pried my nose out of my sci-fi magazines.  "You've been reading all of these stories," she said.  "Why not recommend some of the best ones so I can join in the fun without having to read the bad ones."

I started a list, but after the first few titles, I had a thought.  What if, instead of making a personal list for my wife, I made a public list?  Better yet, how about I publish little reviews of the magazines as they come out?

Thus, Galactic Journey was born.

It's been an interesting ride.  I was certain that I'd have perhaps a dozen subscribers.  Then a large 'zine made mention of the column, and since then, we've been off to the races.  Our regular readers now number in the hundreds, and the full-time staff of The Journey is eight, going on nine.  We've been guests at several conventions around the West Coast, and we've been honored with one of fandom's most prestigious awards.

All thanks to you.  So please join us in a birthday toast to the Galactic Journey family. 

Speaking of significant dates, this month marks the end of an era.  Astounding Science Fiction, founded in 1930, quickly became one of the genre's strongest books under the stewardship of Editor John W. Campbell.  Last year, Campbell decided it was time to strike out in a new direction, starting with a new name of the magazine.  The process has been a gradual one.  First, the word, Analog, was slowly substituted month after month over Astounding.  The spine name changed halfway through this transition.  As of this month, the cover reads Analog Science Fiction.  I am given to understand that next month, it will simply say Analog. 

I think it's a dopey name, but it's the contents that matter, right?  So let's see what Campbell gave us this month:

Well, not a whole lot, numerically.  There are just five pieces, but most of them are quite lengthy. 

First up is a novella by Analog perennial, Chris Anvil: No Small Enemy.  It combines two common Analog clichés, Terran supremacy and psionics.  In this case, an alien invasion is defeated by doughty humans using psychic talents.  It should be terrible, and the coincidence of the extaterrestrial onslaught and humanity's discovery of ESP strains credulity.  Nevertheless, it's actually not a bad read, and it suggests Anvil will do well when he's not writing for Campbell's unique fetishes.  In fact, we know that to be the case based on last year's Mind Partner, published in Galaxy.  Three stars.

Jim Wannamaker's Attrition features a fairly conventional set-up.  Interstellar scout is dispatched to determine why a previous scout mission failed to return from an alien world.  Where it fails in originality, it succeeds in execution.  It's a decent mystery, and the characterization and deft writing make it worth reading.  Four stars.

Things go downhill in the science fact section of the magazine, as they often do.  A Problem in Communication, by George O. Smith, is a weird piece about how the two brains of a Brontosaurus might talk to each other.  It is followed up by Hal Clement's Gravity Insufficient, an attempt to describe how magnetic fields modulate the Sun's tempestuous flares.  It starts out like gangbusters but then fizzles into incomprehensibility.  Both pieces get two stars.

That leaves (Part 3 of 3) of Sense of Obligation, by Harry Harrison, which I'll review next time.  All told, this issue garners 3 stars.  Given some of the real clunkers Campbell churned out this year, this may represent a good augury for this newly renamed digest.  I'd hate for them to go the way of the dinosaurs…

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