Tag Archives: Hank Davis

[May 31, 1968] Euler's Issue (June 1968 Analog)


by Gideon Marcus

Constants

The universe is based on a host of magic numbers.  Without them, the cosmos would be entirely different and probably uninhabitable.  Some of these "constants" are familiar to the layman, Pi perhaps being the most so.  Engineers are familiar with electron-Volts and atomic masses.  Chemists know Avogadro's number, the relationship between atomic mass and metric mass.  Mathematicians know e.

e is a truly fascinating number.  Roughly equal to 2.71828, it is the fundament of exponential growth. For example, if you have a $1 compounded annually at 100% interest, at the end of a year you'll have $2. If you have $1 compounded monthly at 100% interest, at the end of the year you'll have $2.62. If you have $1 compounded continuously (i.e. over an infinite number of instants), you will have $2.71828 at the end of the year.

In calculus, if you integrate the function e to the x power, you get… e to the x power!  Conversely, of course, the derivative of e to the x is e to the x.  That means that e to the x is the one function whose rate of change is the same as its position is the same as its acceleration.

What does this have to do with Analog Science Fiction, particularly this latest issue?


by Kelly Freas

Well, when you have the same editor for 30 years, and he hires the same writers every issue, and he has a rigid editorial policy that eschews innovation and prioritizes certain pseudo-scientific fetishes, you end up with a certain kind of consistency.  Not necessarily a desirable consistency, but consistency nevertheless.  Read on, and you'll see what I mean.

e gad

The Royal Road, by Christopher Anvil


by Kelly Freas

You know you're in trouble when Chris Anvil gets the cover.  Actually, this continuan of the saga of Captain Roberts and his crew of two isn't so bad.  Previous installments had the trio serendipitously developing a mind-control ray and using it to wrest a planet from a despotic computer.  Then the three posed as nobility to sway said planet further.  It was all very glib and distasteful, and I didn't like it.

This story spends two thirds of its length rehashing the events of those stories for new readers and then bringing the trio back, making it a quartet (with Bergen from a story in the December 1967 issue), and unleashing them on a new problem.  A somewhat primitive planet is fractured into more than a dozen petty kingdoms, and the Interstellar Patrol needs a majority of them to agree in order to establish a base.  In the last third of Royal Road, we get the solution to this conundrum. It mostly involves creating an economic catastrophe that only kingdoms favorable to the Imperial Patrol are equipped to address, thus putting these kingdoms on top.  Anvil does note that the gambit could have killed millions, so at least things aren't quite so glib as before.

At least now the quartet of Captain Roberts has been transformed into a sort of Retief series.  Anything's an improvement.  Anyway, I didn't hate it.  A low three stars, I guess. 

No Shoulder to Cry On, by Hank Davis


by Leo Summers

After the vastly superior alien federation shows up on Earth, a sociologist is brought back to see what he assumes will be their advanced technology.  Instead, it turns out that humans have been quite a bit more successful than the ee-tees, at least in one vital field.

A Twilight Zone episode writ small, but inoffensive.  Three stars.

Duplex, by Howard L. Myers


by Kelly Freas

Kent is a person with a literal split personality.  His left half is under the control of a silent partner, dubbed "Pard", while Kent, nominally the "dominant" personality, runs the right half.  Together, they lead a pleasant life as an extremely successful concert pianist.  That is until Pard gets them both tangled up in a spy conspiracy that threatens not just the world…but themselves!

I liked the story's handling of mental handicaps, and it's a pleasant piece overall.  Three stars, but the highest three stars in the issue.

It's RIGHT Over Your Nose!, by Ben Bova


by Kelly Freas

In this science-ish article, Bova suggests that quasars, highly red-shifted quasi-stellar radio sources, may in fact be Bussard ramjets run by aliens.  Thus, rather than being natural phenomena of tremendous power far outside the galaxy, they are artificial phenomena of middlin' power within.

I tend to prefer natural over artificial solutions to problems.  Plus, why is every star-drive in the galaxy going away from us?

Still, it's readable, if breathless.  Three stars.

The Mind Reader, by Rob Chilson


by Leo Summers

Robot mini-planes prove to be decisive in the next Southeast Asian war.  This story is told mostly in dialogue between two people in a sort of "As you know, Bob…" fashion.

The concept is interesting and unique.  The story is not compellingly told.  Two stars.

Satan's World (Part 2 of 4), by Poul Anderson


by Kelly Freas

Finally, we have the next installment in Satan's World, which started last month.  The crew of Muddlin' Through was split up when David Falkayn was abducted by Serendpity Inc., a galactic information clearing house.  This provoked Polesotechnic League magnate Nicholas Van Rijn to take a personal hand in things, sending Adzel the saurian centaur to retrieve the poor lad. 

Turns out Falkayn (predictably) had been brainwashed.  It also turns out that Serendipity is working with, perhaps in the thrall of, a race of mysterious aliens known as the Elders.  The ulterior motive of this ostensibly neutral organization suggests some new power may be planning some kind of galactic conquest.

Meanwhile, Chee Lan the foul-mouthed Cynthian and Falkayn head to the world Serendipity told him about in part one–the frozen world in a cometary orbit that is closing in on its star, Beta Crucis.  This will cause its cryosphere to melt, revealing a mother-lode of precious metals.  But Van Rijn's team isn't the only one interested in the world, aptly dubbed "Satan".  Twenty UFOs have just dropped out of hyperspace in the vicinity, and they don't look friendly…

Anderson has a lot of tics I don't like, particularly his drawing of characters as…well, assemblages of tics.  Adzel is a placid Buddhist, Falkayn is a cipher, Chee Lan is a salty Little Old Lady from Pasadena, and Van Rijn is a lustier, more Dutch version of Raymond Burr's Ironside.

The author also devotes lots of ink to the physical descriptions of his astronomical creations, which I'm sure are fascinating to some, but perhaps are most gratifying for the three cents a word they earn him.

That said, just as I start to get bored, I find myself turning the page and reading on.  So, another three star segment.

Less than Three

So, just like the constant "e", Analog clocks in at just under three.  Indeed, that's how I feel about the magazine as a whole lately.  Sure, there are better issues than others, and sure, there are some standout pieces, but for the most part, I find myself doing anything–cleaning the bathroom ceilings, cataloging my 45s, sorting stamps–rather than read Analog.  Not that I hate the experience when I get to it.  It simply doesn't give the thrill of anticipation that Galaxy still gives me after all of these years.  Even F&SF, which hasn't been terrific since 1962, retains residual goodwill.

Of course, this month's Analog clocks in at 2.9 (rounding up 2.85), which is better than Fantasy and Science Fiction (2.6).  But it's worse than Galaxy (3.1) and IF (3.3).

It was a really thin month for magazines, and out of the four that were published, the better-than-three-star stories would barely fill one of them.  At least women wrote 11% of new fiction pieces, which is on the higher end lately.

Well, here's hoping that next month's Analog picks a different constant to ape, if it can.  And let's hope it's not Planck's Constant!






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[February 4, 1968] More of the Same (March 1968 IF)

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by David Levinson

Medicine marches ahead

Last month, I wrote about the first human-to-human heart transplant by Dr. Christiaan Barnard in South Africa. It paired rather nicely with the start of the new Larry Niven serial. Niven’s serial continues, and heart transplants are still in the news.

On January 2nd, Dr. Barnard performed a second heart transplant. The patient this time was 58-year-old dentist Philip Blaiberg, receiving his new heart from 24-year-old Clive Haupt, who died of a massive cerebral hemorrhage. Mr. Blaiberg is still in the hospital as I write this, but is in good condition. Doctors aren’t sure when he’ll be able to return home, however they are hopeful.

Dr. Barnard (I.) and Philip Blaiberg (r.), probably before the surgery.

Just four days later, on the 6th, Dr. Norman Shumway performed the first successful heart transplant in the United States. Here, the recipient was 54-year-old steelworker Mike Kasparek (or Casparak, I’ve seen both in print), and the donor was 43-year-old Virginia May White, who was also the victim of a cerebral hemorrhage (sadly, while celebrating her 22nd wedding anniversary). Unfortunately, Mr. Kasperak only survived for 15 days, dying of liver failure on the 21st. Dr. Shumway has suggested that the new heart was the only functioning organ Mr. Kasparek had and said that greater care will need to be taken in the selection of prospective transplant patients.

Dr. Shumway at a press conference last fall (l.), Mike Kasperak and his wife, Ferne (r.)

Same old song

It’s business as usual in this month’s IF. We’ve got familiar faces giving us what we expect (good and bad), a newish name starting to show up in the American magazines, and our first time author.

This unpleasing collage is for Harlan’s new story. Art by Wenzel

Sunbeam Caress, by David Redd

Long ago, in an effort to control the weather, humanity caused the sun to become overactive. This wiped out civilization, killed off many species, and mutated others. Now, the ants rule the Earth, having merged to become the Racemind. They have bred many species back from extinction and telepathically control many to serve them. When strange crystal beings and others made purely of light begin to raid their farms and take over their slaves, the ants realize they have ignored the rest of the world for too long.

Part of the scouting party investigating the crystal entities. Art by Virgil Finlay

Imagine if J. G. Ballard wrote a 1920s-type, far-future fate of the Earth story. I have a fairly low tolerance for Ballard’s style, but Redd makes it work. This is a good story, with caveats. It’s a bit too long, and more importantly it’s hampered by not having any actual characters. If that Ballard-pulp combination sounds interesting, or if you like Ballard’s strange ecology stories, you’ll probably like this.

A high three stars.

Worlds to Kill, by Harlan Ellison

Jared is the preeminent mercenary leader in the galaxy, the man planetary governments seek out when they want to conquer the worlds of other star systems. He’s incredibly expensive, and worth it. But he’ll only take certain jobs. That’s because he’s actually working toward a personal goal, aided by the Machine, a computer he designed and built himself early in his career.

Jared consults the Machine. Art by Gaughan

This story has a more traditional structure than a lot of what Harlan’s written of late, but don’t let that fool you. It’s all Ellison: dark, sad, maybe a little more hopeful than usual.

Four stars.

Deadlier Specie, by David A. Kyle

Gregory MacKenzie is an exobiologist on Mars. He’s been kidnapped by aliens so that they can learn how humans think before a meeting with the chief diplomat from the U. N.

There’s almost a good story here. Unfortunately, it’s full of questionable puns and, worse still, ends with an implied sexist joke.

Two stars.

Caterpillar Express, by Robert A. Margroff

In a North America fractured by war, Bondman Y is investigating the disappearance of several trains (which are pulled by giant Venusian caterpillars). He’ll have to join forces with his counterparts from unfriendly nations to survive.

Y discovers the culprits behind the hijackings. Art by Vaughn Bodé

For some reason, Fred Pohl seems to like Margroff’s work, but I’ve never been impressed. This story hasn’t changed my mind. Dumb jokes, dumb plot. ‘Nuff said.

Two stars.

At Nycon #3, by Lin Carter

After a month’s absence, Our Man in Fandom delivers his report on the Worldcon in New York last year. Or at least the first half of it. This is mostly name-dropping. If you’re interested in the Worldcon, you’re better off reading the Journey’s con report. It’s more informative and has pictures.

Barely three stars, entirely for somewhat engaging writing.

Squatter’s Rights, by Hank Davis

An alien intelligence has an important message for humanity.

Just some vague atmosphere. Art by Gaughan

There’s not much to say about the story from this month’s new author. It shows some talent, it’s a little different, and it’s short.

Three stars.

Slowboat Cargo (Part 2 of 3), by Larry Niven

On the planet Plateau, Matt Keller has become involved with the Sons of Earth, who hope to overthrow the rule of the crew and become more than a labor force and source of organs. When the group was arrested, Matt managed to escape thanks to his strange ability to make people forget he exists. Meanwhile, a mysterious new technology has arrived from Earth via unmanned ramjet. As the last installment ended, Matt had entered the Hospital in the hope of setting the others free.

Matt stages a massive jailbreak, but only a handful—those close enough to him to benefit from his special ability—escape. This group includes Harry Kane, the group’s leader. He leads them to a house he expects to be empty so they can plan further. Intermingled with the escape, we follow chief policeman Jesus Pietro Castro as he leads the capture of the others.

The scene then shifts to planetary leader Millard Parlette, as he prepares to give a speech to the crew about the latest gift from Earth. This is just three and a half pages of exposition. But after the speech Parlette coincidentally goes to the house where Matt and the others are hiding. This allows him to make contact with Kane and begin working out an accord. Meanwhile, Matt and another of the rebels have infiltrated the Hospital again, but with different goals. This leads to them splitting up. To be concluded.

Matt leaves a message. Art by Adkins

There’s a lot of action this month, interspersed with nearly Heinlein-ian levels of political philosophy. Niven isn’t nearly as gifted at the latter as Heinlein, but it’s still an interesting exploration of the effects of a new technology on a society. The large chunk of exposition from Parlette’s notes is less successful. Watching him cut chunks of the speech because his listeners should know the information is a slight improvement over the cliched “As you know, Bob…” of old, but it’s still clunky. It also left me wondering how much of the speech notes are actually Niven’s notes for the novel.

A solid, slightly above average three stars.

Summing up

Fred Pohl opens this issue with another editorial rant against the New Wave. He seems to have decided that the movement is one of style over substance, while he’s more concerned with story, only liking stylistic experimentation if the story calls for it. I don’t know how he then justifies that Bob Sheckley acid trip last month, and his protests that the Redd in this issue isn’t New Wave ring a bit hollow to me. In any case, it looks as though we shouldn’t expect any real innovations in IF in the months to come.

A new Silverberg novel. That could be interesting. It might even be innovative.