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Magazine, Science Fiction/Fantasy, Serial

[December 31, 1968] Auld Lang Syne (January 1969 Analog)

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by Gideon Marcus

We made it

And so, 1968 ends with a bang, not a whimper.  After a miserable year that saw the loss of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. and Robert Kennedy, the capture of the Pueblo, the Tet Offensive in South Vietnam, the riots at the Democratic Convention, the election of Richard Nixon, and many other tragedies, we finally have some good news to end the year.

First, there was the stirring flight of Apollo 8, a bit of unmitigated good that gave the holiday season additional poignancy.  And then, just last week, the crew of the Pueblo were finally released.  Vietnam peace talks appear to be stumbling forward.

On a more personal level, I got to prepare the Galactic Stars for the year, which involves reading all of the four and five star stories recommended by my colleagues.  For one month, everything I read is terrific.

It is in this euphoric mode that I get ready for tonight's New Year's celebration…and present to you the last of this month's magazines, the January 1969 Analog.

We read it


by Kelly Freas

Wolfling (Part 1 of 3), by Gordon R. Dickson

A galaxy-spanning empire makes contact with Earth.  Amazingly, the denizens of the sprawling star-society appear to be humans, though the ruling caste is distinctive due to selective breeding—onyx white, seven feet tall, and brilliant.  Because of the clear relation between the species, the prevailing belief is that Earth is some kind of lost colony.


by Kelly Freas

James Keil, bullfighter extraordinaire, is adopted by the High-born for display at the Throne World.  Keil is also a trojan horse, dispatched by the United Nations to gather information about the non-alien aliens. 

The hidebound High-born possess tremendous powers, from teleportation to matter conversion, but they are also just as petty and Machiavelian as any Earthers.  Keil's only ally is Ro, a (comparatively) dark-skinned High-born tasked with caring for the High-born queen's menagerie.

Dickson spins an interesting tale, detailing how the "Wolfling", Keil, walks the diplomatic tightrope, navigating a literal lion's den all through his FTL journey to the heart of the galaxy.  Though the story featueres eugenics, it is clear that the tale is an indictment rather than an endorsement.  Of course, the message might have been more strongly made were Keil's surname "Chang" or "Ojukwu".

Four stars so far.

The Hidden Ears, by Lawrence A. Perkins


by Leo Summers

A renegade UFO on the lam breaks through the cordon placed around Earth by the interstellar fuzz, taking refuge in the barn of a rural homestead.  The cops scratch their carapaced heads for a while, until they figure out a way to locate the hidden fugitive.  The genuinely amusing conclusion is the one bright spot in an otherwise frivolous story.

Two stars.

The Other Culture, by Ted Thomas


by Kelly Freas

If ever the word "pedestrian" described a story, it's now.  Thomas strings the most colorless sentences together, most of which are superfluous, and none of which are more than adequate.

The plot?  The Weather Council has to decide who will be prioritized for the increasingly demanded amount of world rainfall.  Because, as we all know, that's the kind of minor issue that is solved at a single conference.

That would be silly enough, except for the bombshell dropped about a quarter-way into the story: continental drift is suddenly speeding up, and all land masses will reunite as Pangaea in half a century.

Turns out this (ludicrous) plan is the work of BROW, the Brotherhood of the World, a rival underground (no pun intended) society.  But this potentially disastrous plan also, fortuitously, contains the solution to the water problem.

"Culture" is a talky, ridiculous story with no merits whatsoever.  It makes no scientific sense—moving continents around like bumper cars will produce a million 1906 San Franciscos—and the prose is dull as dishwater, as are all of the "characters".

One star.

"On a Gold Vesta … ", by Robert S. Richardson

This is a pretty neat piece about how we measure the density, size, and albedo (reflectiveness) of the myriad minor planets in the solar system.  All of these values are related, and without a firm grasp of at least one of them, it's virtually impossible to estimate the others.  A little short, but valuable.

Four stars.

Classicism, by Murray Yaco


by Kelly Freas

It's been eight years since we last heard from Mr. Yaco, and quite frankly, he might as well have stayed in hiding.  This is the "funny" tale of a young engineer from the last planet that believes in "classical economics".  He is sent to the big universe to become a cog in the command economy—specifically, to manage planet-wide garbage operations.  In his spare time, he works on perfecting a teleportation system, which he hopes to sell at great profit.

Too silly to be truly offensive; too lightweight to be worth your time.  Two stars.

Krishna, by Guy McCord


by Kelly Freas

Last year, Mack Reynolds…er… "Guy McCord" wrote a tale about Caledonia, a strange planet that was an odd combination of Scots and American Indian societies.  Krishna is a direct sequel, and a much better (though incomplete) story.

John of the Hawks is now a man, Raid Cacique for his clan, in fact, when Outworlders return.  The villain of the last piece, Mr. Harmon, is now wearing the black cloak of an acolyte of Krisha.  His ship, the Revelation, houses a bunch of missionaries who offer cures to all diseases if only they will partake of soma, a powerful hallucinogen.  Those who ingest soma become peaceful, one with Krishna…but also sterile and apathetic.  Obviously, such is anathema to the hardscrabble, lusty Caledonians.

"McCord" balances the clan politics with the Outplanet menace much better this time around, and John's endeavor to "steal" Alice Thompson for a bride is pretty gripping.  I don't mind that this novella is obviously the first (second?) installment in a novel, and I look forward to the next one.

Four stars.

We rate it

The word for this month is "vicissitudes".  On the face of it, none of the magazines did very well—Analog finished at 2.9 stars, well above Amazing (2.4 stars), but below New Worlds (3 stars), Galaxy (3.1 stars), IF (3.2 stars), and Fantasy and Science Fiction (3.3 stars).

Yet, every mag save Amazing had at least one four-star story in it.  Several had more than one.  If you took all the good stuff this month, you could fill two magazines with it and have some quite good reading ahead of you.  Women contributed 12% of the new fiction published, which is on the high end.

So, a foreboding or auspicious sign for the New Year, depending on whether you fill your scotch half full or half empty with soda.  Either way, here's looking forward to a lovely 1969 with you all.  May your holiday season be bright!




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Magazine, Science Fiction/Fantasy, Serial

[September 30, 1968] A spoonful of sugar… (October 1968 Analog)

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by Gideon Marcus

Sputnik all over again?

Last week, the Soviets produced their latest space spectacular, potentially leaving America in the dust again.  Zond 5, launched September 14, was sent around the moon, returning safely to Earth on the 22nd.

It's tempting to say, "What's the big deal," right?  We've sent probes to the moon, too, and the Russkies have orbited lunar satellites and soft-landed spacecraft.  What's special about Zond?  Well, it's suspected that "Zond", a monicker usually reserved for interplanetary spacecraft, is really a lunar-adapted Soyuz.  That means the Communists have completed a successful, robotic dry run for a human mission to the moon.  We haven't even launched our first manned Apollo yet!

So we're in something of a race.  Apollo 7 will go up in a couple of weeks, testing the spacecraft for an endurance run in Earth orbit.  Apollo 8 is due to be a circumlunar shot, to be launched near the end of the year.  That's the one to beat: if the Soviets make that journey before us, that'll be a feather in their cap.

That said, while our program was delayed 20 months due to the tragedy of Apollo 1 last year, the Soviet lunar program has undergone some setbacks, too.  Most notably, their Saturn equivalent appears to be having teething troubles.  While they might be able to send a Soyuz around the moon with their current rockets, landing cosmonauts will require a beefier launch system.  Our Saturn is already man-rated.

If I were a betting man, I'd give the odds of the Soviets beating us around the moon at around 50/50.  But as for landing on the moon, which is still planned for some time next year, I think we're still favored to win that one.

The medicine

This month's issue of Analog starts off extremely well.  Savor the taste of the opening piece, as it's what will sustain you through the rest…


by Kelly Freas

The Pirate, by Poul Anderson

Trevelyan is the agent of an arcane, galaxy-wide service.  Most of the such agents are employed for scouting, search and rescue, and mediation services.  This time, Trevelyan is on a mission of crime prevention.  His suspect: Murdoch Juan and his partner, Faustina.  Ostensibly, they aim to set up pre-made colonies on the marginal world of Good Luck, offering transport and homes to settlers at a bargain.  Trevelyan knows such endeavors are never profitable, and he suspects a shady angle.


by Kelly Freas

Such concerns are confirmed when he and his alien shipmate, Smokesmith, discover Murdoch's true target: a once-inhabited world, seared with abated radiation, abounding in empty cities ripe for occupation.  But is that what the dead race would have wanted?

Poul Anderson's writing ranges from turgid to sublime.  This piece is much closer to the latter end of the scale, and it benefits from lacking the author's typical linguistic tics.  In addition to being a good read and an excellent depiction of a true alien race, I appreciate the moral questions raised and the conservationist attitude expressed.  This would be good required reading for any apprentice building contractor or would-be Schliemann.

Five stars.

Mission of Ignorance, by Christopher Anvil


by Leo Summers

The galactic aliens have returned.  Last time, they brought three gifts to revolutionize our food production, our computers, and our birth control—and leave us completely at their mercy.  This time, Earth is being a bit more circumspect.  Rather than accepting the ambassadors with open arms, a buck 2nd Lieutenant is dispatched to treat with them—with absolutely no briefing at all, but with a set of instructions designed to terrify and befuddle the extraterrestrials.

I often joke that every Chris Anvil story begins with [Military rank] [Name] [present participle verb], and this is no exception.  I also, less jokingly, note that Chris Anvil's stories for Analog tend to be smug, stupid affairs.  Thus, I was surprised to find I didn't hate this piece.  It is somewhat smug, and the latter half is all explanation, but the premise is kind of interesting.

Right on the 2/3 border.  I'll be generous and say three stars.

Taking the Lid Off, by William T. Powers

The "lid" in this science article refers to Earth's atmosphere, which prevents us from seeing the universe in most of the interesting wavelengths like X-ray and infrared.  Powers, who wrote a terrific article on measuring charged particles last year, offers up a less impressive, but serviceable piece on lunar and orbital telescopes.  It's just a bit less coherent than his last article, and with fewer revelations, although I did appreciate his explanation of using gravity gradients to stabilize satellites.

Three stars.

The Steiger Effect, by Betsy Curtis


by Leo Summers

Human merchants arrive at a planet that views internal combustion as a kind of witchcraft.  Nevertheless, they buy our engines when they are demonstrated to work.  But the engines all mysteriously conk out when humans reach a certain distance away.  Turns out they—and all internal combustion engines, everywhere—run on psi energy, and always have. 'Humans secretly have psi powers and don't know it' certainly sounds like a plot tailor-made for Campbell, doesn't it?

Never mind that the premise makes no sense; the division of the (otherwise completely humanoid) alien society into "Men" (those who do with their minds) and "Boys" (those who do with their brawn) hews too close to a metaphor of antebellum days in the American South for comfort.

One star.

Underground, by Lawrence A. Perkins


by Kelly Freas

A senator is kidnapped by a Latin American insurgency that plans to harness earthquakes to topple their oppressive dictator [a plot reminiscent of the Doctor Who episode "Enemy of the World" -Ed].

This piece reads like one of those Ted Thomas mini science articles from F&SF turned into a story, except there's no real story—just a lot of show and tell.

Two stars.

The Tuvela (Part 2 of 2), by James H. Schmitz


by John Schoenherr

Last installment, we learned that the colony of Nandy-Cline was about to be invaded by the rapacious Parahuans.  The only thing holding them back was the concern that humanity was led by a shadow cabal of "Tuvela", a subrace of genetic supermen.  Now, the security of the world lies in the hands of the youthful Dr. Nile Etland, who must convince the Parahuan that she is one of the mythical Tuvela.  Luckily, she has a quartet of sapient otters as wingmen…

This is a frustrating novel.  The premise is excellent, and Schmitz is one of SF's few authors who lets women be heroes.  What keeps this book at the three-star level for me is the lack of characterization.  I have a vague idea of who Ticos Cay is, the two-hundred year old man who we meet as a prisoner of the Parahuan.  I even kind of know the various Parahuan.  But Etland is a cipher, utterly uninteresting as a person.  She goes through her James Bond maneuvers with competence and a few jitters, but with precious little demonstration of a soul.

My nephew enjoyed this serial a lot.  It is creative, and the biology of the world well realized.  If only I could say the same for Nile Etland.

Three stars.

Doing the math

Thus ends the month with Analog clocking in at 2.9, just under the 3-star line.  Ahead of it are The Farthest Reaches (3.4), Fantasy and Science Fiction (3.1) and IF (3.1).  The pack below it is far below—Galaxy (2.4), Worlds of Fantasy (2.3), and Fantastic (2).

The worthy stuff would fill two magazines, which would be an impressive amount if it hadn't taken seven publications to produce it.  Women penetrated the magazines pretty well this month, but their lack of pieces in Worlds of Fantasy and The Farthest Reaches brought the aggregate percentage down to 11%.

And so, with science fiction as with science fact, we find ourselves in a bit of a holding pattern, awaiting what's to come next month.  But whether it's the Soviets or the Americans, Campbell or Ferman, someone will entertain us.

And that's worth being ready for!

[Stop Press: Mark just got his reviews of this month's New Worlds to me.  It's too late to run an article, so we'll be doubling up next month.  For the sake of statistics, however, the magazine raises the amount of worthy material slightly, and it reduces feminine participation in SF magazine prose for October 1968 to 10%.  Stay tuned…]




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Science Fiction/Fantasy, Serial

[April 30, 1968] (Partial) success stories (May 1968 Analog)

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by Gideon Marcus

Chertona Dyuzhina (Baker's Dozen)

Luna 14 is the Soviet Union's latest space success story.  Launched April 7, it slipped into lunar orbit a couple of days later and began relaying data.  Per TASS, the spacecraft is still working fine, returning space weather reports and mapping the moon's hidden contours through the wobbling of its path due to lunar gravity.

No pictures have been returned, nor has there been any mention of an onboard camera.  However, since Luna 12 (launched October '66) did have one, it is generally believed that Luna 14 has one too–and it broke.  We'll probably never know.

Campbell's Seven

The latest issue of Analog is also not an unmixed bag.  However, it's still the best issue of the mag by a long shot since January.  That's something worth celebrating!


by Chesley Bonestell

Satan's World (Part 1 of 4), by Poul Anderson

David Falkayn is back!  The fair-haired protoge of Polesotechnic League magnate Nicholas van Rijn has been sent to Earth to find untold fortune.  More specifically, to inquire at Serendipity Inc., storehouse of all the universe's lore, for the quickest route between Point A (Falkayn) and Point B (wealth).  It's amazing what can be done with computers in the Mumblethieth Century!


by Kelly Freas

To do so, he puts himself at the mercy of the board of Serendipity, becoming a guest on their lunar estate.  His crewmates, Adzel the monastic saurian who talks like Beast from The X-Men, and Chee, who talks like Nick Fury from Sgt. Fury, stay behind…and worry.

With good reason, for Falkayn has been shanghaied, purportedly in love with one of the Serendipity board, but probably brainwashed or something.  Van Rijn gives Adzel and Chee the green light to investigate.

Falkayn stories are always somewhere in the lower middle for Anderson–serviceable but unexciting.  Once again, the author utilizes some cheap tricks to move things along, even calling them out in text in an attempt to excuse them (the long explanation of Serendipity's modus operandi; the sudden coincidence of a call by a critical character, etc.) None of the characters is particularly interesting, perhaps because of the extremely broad brush with which they're described, particularly Van Rijn.

Nevertheless, mediocre is pretty good for a Falkayn story, and I'm kind of interested.  Plus, Anderson's astronomy is always pretty good.

Three stars so far.

Exile to Hell, by Isaac Asimov


by Kelly Freas

This story is remarkable for being the first time Isaac has appeared in Analog (the magazine was Astounding when wrote for Campbell).  It is otherwise unremarkable–this vignette is written in '40s style, with a hoary "twist" ending, which was already incorporated as one of many elements in The Moon is a Harsh Mistress.

Two stars.

Conquest by Default, by Vernor Vinge


by Kelly Freas

This one surprised me: alien anarchists, who by their law are forbidden to have polities larger than 10,000 people, take over a recovering post-nuclear Earth.  The Terrans are worried that they will suffer a fate similar to that of the Cherokees–annihilation, assimilation, relocation, or a combination of all three. 

Told from the point of view of one the conquerers, it very much seems like this will be one of those fatuous Campbellian tales where it turns out that free enterprise and libertarianism are the superior forces, and that the solution to "the aboriginal problem" has a neat and obvious solution.

But the story has a sting in its tail.

I had not expected to find an anti-capitalist, anti-libertarian screed in the pages of Analog, much less an acknowledgement of the American genocide…yet there it is!  And because the viewpoint character is an alien (and a comparatively sympathetic one, at that), the full impact of the story is saved for the end.

Four stars.

His Master's Vice, by Verge Foray


by Kelly Freas

Prox(y)ad(miral) Elmo Ixton lands his patrol ship, the sentient craft, Rollo, on the planet of Roseate on the trail of a rebel proxad who has gone to ground and recruited a network of criminal accomplices.  The agoraphobic and irritable Ixton ingratiates himself with very few people, but he does get his man…in time for the tables to be turned when the renegade takes over his ship.

Luckily, Rollo is not about to become an unwitting accomplice.

Not bad.  I didn't much like the Gestapo methods with which the "good guys" extracted the truth from suspects, though.

Three stars.

Fear Hound, by Katherine MacLean


by Kelly Freas

In late 20th Century New York, the city seethes with a despair so palpable, it almost seems the echoes of one person's broadcast pain.  Indeed, that is exactly what it is.  And the Rescue Squad, a corps of intellectual empaths, are on the case to find the source before s/he perishes in anguish, and in the process, telepathically pushes hundreds, maybe thousands more, to the brink of insanity or even death.

There's a lot of neat stuff in this one.  Obviously, you have to buy telepathy as plausible (something Campbell obviously does).  Given that, the idea of a group of people tracking down injured folk by their subtle telepathic emanations, and the unconscious mass effects these have on others, is pretty innovative. MacLean writes in the deft, immediate style that has made her one of SF's leading lights for two decades; the dreamy, choppy execution fits the circumstances of the story.

On the other hand, the bits about smart people essentially providing the brain for dozens of sub-average IQ types through unconscious telepathic links was something I found distasteful. There are also a few, lengthy explainy bits that could have been better worked in, I think.

A high three stars.

Project Island Bounce, by Lawrence A. Perkins


by Kelly Freas

The alien Ysterii arrive on an Earth not unlike that depicted in Conquest by Default.  Here, the crisis is that the blobby amphibians prefer the archipelagos of Asianesia to the dry expanses of Eurica.  This is causing a trade imbalance that will ultimately not only destabilize the world, but potentially lead to a cut-off of peaceful relations with the galaxy altogether.

Perkins doesn't tell the story very well, especially compared to Vinge's writing, and the "solution" is dumb. Two stars.

Skysign, by James Blish


by Leo Summers

Carl Wade, a Berkeley radical type finds himself trapped on an alien vessel floating above San Francisco.  As memory returns to his headachey brain, he recalls the he was the one "lay volunteer" among dozens of men and women chosen as ambassadors for their various technical expertise.

Now, Carl and a hundred-odd humans are prisoners in the gilded cage of the ship, offered all manner of food and a fair bit of recreation.  But they are nevertheless under the control of the alien crew, humanoids in skintight suits, with the ability to teleport and put the human captives to sleep at any time.

That is, until Carl, with the help of the Jeanette Hilbert, a brilliant meteorologist, figure out how to wrest control of the whole system from the aliens.  That's only half the story, since Carl and Jeanette have differing ideas on what to do with absolute power.

I liked this story, and Blish does a good job of putting us in the boots of a not-entirely savory character.  I find it particularly interesting that our radical protagonist is something of a jerk; I originally thought that this might be a subtle, anti-leftist dig, but Blish is an outspoken peacenik, so I think he just wanted to create a nuanced character.

Four stars.

Batting Average

Analog thus ends up at a reasonable 3.1 stars–not stellar, but certainly worth the 60 cents you pay for it (less if you have the subscription, of course).  That puts it at the bottom of the new mags (vs. IF and Fantasy and Science Fiction (3.5), but better than the reprints (Fantastic (2.7) and Amazing (2.0)).  The magazine average for the month was 3.1.

All told, if you took the four and five star stories of this month and squished them into one mag…well, you'd need one and a half. That amounts to about 40% of all new fiction this month. Again, not bad.

The sad news is only one story this month was woman-penned, making up for 4.3% of the newly published works.  And that one was MacLean's, meaning Analog wins this month's pink ribbon in a mass forfeit.

Well, I suppose you take your victories where you find them.  At least we ended up on the positive side of the ledger this month…




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Magazine, Science Fiction/Fantasy, Serial

[June 30, 1967] Bad trip (July 1967 Analog)

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by Gideon Marcus

A time to laugh, a time to cry

It's been something of a rocky week.  A few days ago, Israel unilaterally announced that it was annexing all of Jerusalem, which had been de facto split after the 1948 war , and which de jure was supposed to be an international city.  The good news is, the government promised to integrate the Jewish and Arab halves peacefully, and so far, it looks like they are trying to do just that.  Still, the move is drawing condemnation from the world (strangely, I don't recall hearing aspersions cast against the Jordanians when they took half of the city…)

In sadder news, actress Jayne Mansfield was in a fatal car crash not far from New Orleans.  You may remember her from Will Success Spoil Rock Hunter and other films and TV shows.  She'd earned a reputation as a budget Marilyn Monroe, but from recent performances, it was clear her talent ran deeper than that.  The only bright spot is that her three children, also in the car, escaped with minor injuries.

And in the You-gotta-laugh-or-you'll-cry department, Beach Boy Carl Wilson was set free after being tried for draft evasion.  Seems being a conscientious objector works for some people, but not others.  Witness one Muhammad Ali.  Let me know if you can tell me what's different about the two cases.

All ahead, half speed


by John Schoenherr

Meanwhile, this month's Analog is not so much ups and downs, but a straight shot.  Sort of like Route 99 to Sacramento–easy going, but a dull drive.

The Man from P.I.G., by Harry Harrison


by John Schoenherr

First up is an unusual interstellar fixit story in the Retief or Chris Anvil mold.  Bron Wurber, pig herder, arrives on a remote world in the middle of a crisis.  Its governor had just sent out a distress call about the mysterious plateau just outside of town that not only appears to be haunted, but is fatal to any who explore it.  Bron seems the most unlikely of support…until he reveals he really is a government agent, and the pigs are of the one-ton, super-intelligent variety.  With the help of his porcine aides, Bron cracks the case and saves the day.

P.I.G. works as an action-adventure story, and if you can get past the "as you know" explanations of why pigs are better than dogs (and who can argue with that? But cats beat them both…) then you'll enjoy yourself.  The piece does not work as a whodunnit, though.  Harrison has to explain the characteristics of the culprit at the end of the tale rather than dropping clues throughout.  I have to wonder if I missed a setup story somewhere.  Alternatively, this may be the first in a series, and the next one will thus be better prepped.

Three stars.

Compound Interest, by Christopher Anvil


by Kelly Freas

A couple of months back, we got a story about a troubleshooter who helps establish the sapience of an indigenous race of cat people, thus frustrating the commercial schemes of a settling corporation.

This tale rather unnecessarily retells the same story, but from the point of view of the commercial types.  Anvil adds a silver lining at the end of the story, depending, of course, on psionics (this being John Campbell's mag, after all).

The first story was decent.  This was is rather pointless.  Two stars.

Annual Report, by Listening Inc.

Instead of contracting a science writer this month, Campbell just borrowed a catalog from an outfit called Listening Inc.  They make all kinds of interesting sonar/listening gear, including stuff for talking to dolphins.

There's not a lot there, but it's interesting.  Three stars.

Aim for the Heel, by John T. Phillifent


by Kelly Freas

Accompanied by the most striking art of the issue, Heel is the story of an international agent whose job is to facilitate, but not directly cause, the assassination of otherwise unreachable criminals.  He does it by researching his targets, and then maneuvering them into a situation whereby they end up dead at their own hands.

It's somewhat gray, morally, rather like the season of Mission: Impossible we just watched.  It also delights a bit too much in what it does, to the point of being lurid.

But it is readable.  Three stars.

Something Important, by E. G. Von Wald


by Rudy Palais

I liked this one, about a disabled alien ship that sends out a distress call, and the communications team that cracks the code to effect a rescue.  There's not much to it, but the message (no pun intended) is nice.

Three stars.

Computer War (Part 2 of 2), by Mack Reynolds


by Kelly Freas

Last issue, we were introduced to the autocracy of Alphaland, which had just gone to war with its rival, Betastan, and run into difficulties.  The Betastani refuse to fight fair, retreating from their cities, only using subs for naval engagement, and using thousands of agents to create havoc within Alphaland.  As a result, Alphaland, despite computer predictions to the contrary, is on the verge of collapse.

Reynolds likes to cloak history lessons in the guise of fiction.  Sometimes he's successful at the task, and sometimes it feels like he's submitting a series of essays with a thin veneer of plot around them.  This latest effort is the latter.  The characters are cardboard, although the lessons have some applicability to our current quagmire in Vietnam.

A low three stars.

Bite, by Lawrence A. Perkins


by John Schoenherr

Lastly, an unpleasant tale of an unpleasant doctor who contracts rabies, and the unpleasant choice another doctor has of deciding whether it's worth treating him or not.

I didn't like it.  Two stars.

Traffic statistics

Not only did this month's Analog score a rather peaked 2.7, but there is a smug sameyness to every story, as if each one was pressed through the Campbell machine and laminated with a greasy coating.  The other mags this month, such as there were, weren't much better though.  Fantasy and Science Fiction and IF also scored 2.7, and only Fantastic (3.2) and New Worlds (3.5) were better, the first comprising mostly reprints, and the latter a half-size mag.

All told, you could take all the good fiction and fit it in one decent-sized digest.  Two of the 30 new fiction pieces were by women, both of them quite short.  I guess it's no surprise that the action is in SF novels these days.

Still, I like my magazines, and I hope they get their act together.  Otherwise, this is going to be one throughway most folks will want to turn off from.



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Magazine, Science Fiction/Fantasy, Serial

[May 31, 1967] Phoning it in (June 1967 Analog)

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by Gideon Marcus

Monopoly Bell

For nearly a century, the telephone lines crossing this great nation of ours have been the property of one big mother–specifically "Ma Bell", the colloquial name for American Telephone and Telegraph (AT&T).  Practically an arm of the government, this entity employs a million people and (for the most part) has no competition. 


The Belles of Southwestern Bell

Now, I'm not saying that it's not a near miracle to be able to call anyone, any place in the country, now that direct dialing has replaced operator-assisted station-to-station calling (for the most part).  I'm not even complaining that I have to dial seven digits when I call a local friend instead of just four.

I will say that it seems like highway robbery to have to pay 50 cents for a three minute call to my brother in Los Angeles.  We've gotten to the point where we don't actually call to let the other know that we got home safe after a visit; we just ring the phone once–that's free.  And how about the whopping $12 to (try to) phone my Journey pals in the UK? 

Of course, we have the luxury of being fantastically rich–how else could we have a dedicated line and a telefax machine to transmit articles and images? 

But for the regular schmo on the street, long distance calling is expensive…and Ma Bell wants you to make it a habit.

Thankfully, their switch to multi-frequency (MF) circuits, where operator-switched connections have been replaced by tone-controlled automatics, has proven quite the blessing, making Ma Bell more efficient, which has in some cases translated to reduced rates.

And for some people, it's resulted in absolutely phree phone calling…

You see, the phone system is controlled by tones, and the tones are consistent–and meticulously cataloged by the phone company in easy-to-obtain manuals.  So if you can find some way of producing the tones yourself, you decide whether a call is going to cost money or not.  Particularly if you have some way of producing, at the beginning of your call, the 2600 hz tone that indicates to the automatic system that a line is not being used, and therefore should not incur a bill.

If only there was some cheap, easy to find item that would enable you to do that…

That would be MF-ing great!

Broken Monopoly

It used to be that Analog, back when it was called Astounding, was the one game in town if you wanted what we now call "hard science fiction", that crunchy stuff based on real science, and not Buck Rogers stuff.  Astounding editor John Campbell ushered in what folks are calling the Golden Age starting the end of the '30s. 

It's now thirty years later, and Campbell's still around, and so's his magazine.  Unlike the phone company, however, Campbell is content not to innovate, letting the latest trends in the field pass him by.  The latest issue is a particularly regressive example.


by John Schoenherr

Computer War (Part 1 of 2), by Mack Reynolds


by Kelly Freas

SF veteran and globetrotter Mack Reynolds has as one of his settings a future in which humanity has spread out to dozens, if not hundreds, of worlds, each free to develop its political institutions as it sees fit.  Reynolds has used this backdrop as a way to explore several different types of government taken to extremes.  For instance, most recently, he took us to a (seemingly) woman-dominated world in Amazon Planet, which turned out to be something of a paradise.  I liked that one.

This particular story features a world with two main nations: Alphaland and Betastan.  Between them are 21 neutral nations that don't count too much.  The head of Alphaland is contemplating a war on Betastan, which though it will be costly, has been deemed necessary by the computerized statisticians if he is to maintain his grip on the totalitarian country.  To get the populace behind the move, he concocts a "Crusade" againt the "Karlist Amish" minority that have corrupted Betastan and threaten to bring the whole world to heel.

Stop me if you've heard this one before.

Mixed in is a bit of political thriller involving a minister and his Betastani spy mistress.  But for the most part, it's lukewarm historical allegory.  Reynolds can be quite good at this kind of thing, but he's just going through the motions on this one.

Three stars so far, barely.

The Double-Edged Rope, by Lloyd Biggle, Jr.


by Kelly Freas

East meets West in a Yugoslav greasy spoon as two agents swap stories of a rumored UFO invasion.  When the Eastern spy goes to make his report, he finds that the BEMs-in-human-form have already taken over, betrayed by their signature stiff pinky fingers.

Oh wait, that's The Invaders.  In this story, it's their really small ears.

Either way, it's a stupid story.  Two stars.

Political Science, by Douglas M. Dederer

Newcomer Douglas Dederer offers us a detailed and exciting (if one-sided and slightly incomplete) account of how Von Braun's Army team didn't and then did become the first to orbit an American satellite.  It's very pro-Nazi…er…Von Braun, and rather anti-Vanguard and Eisenhower, but I learned a lot.

Four stars.

Security Measure, by Joseph P. Martino


by Kelly Freas

A Russian-born American is inserted into the Soviet Union to survey any anti-revolutionary groups that might exist.  Once he finds one, he finds himself hip deep in a plot to seize a nuclear missile base and atomize army garrisons around the country as a prelude to a massive internal takeover.  Can Michael Antonov stop the plan before millions are vaporized?

Martino's written a lot of edge-of-the-future spy thriller stuff, generally exhibiting decent writing in otherwise trivial pieces.  I quite liked this one, however.  It feels quite grounded in reality, and the solution doesn't offend credulity or sensibility.  If anything, Security Measure feels like an episode of Secret Agent.

Four stars.

Project Lion, by Lawrence A. Perkins


by John Schoenherr

Back down we go with this short piece about visitors from Procyon.  The rulers of Earth are convinced that if they don't make first contact, they will be destroyed just like the Incans, the Neanderthals, and every other beaten culture of humanity that got off the second shot.  A scramble is made to select the optimum personnel for such a mission.

This story really doesn't make any sense, neither the "logic" involved in the puzzle nor the puzzle's solution.

Two stas.

The Dukes of Desire, by Christopher Anvil


by Kelly Freas

Several months ago, we followed the exploits of a three-man team trapped on a planet under the thumb of robot overlords in Strangers to Paradise.  They overcame their difficulties through the use of mind control through scents.

Well, now the team is back.  The planet has fallen further into anarchy, and the trio have to figure out a way to put things to rights.  A combination of scent application and false identity does the trick, making the planetary population believe that the two ships flown by the trio are actually flagships in an interstellar war.  The idea is that an external foe might unite the people of the planet.  Or something.

I didn't much like the last story, and I really didn't like this one, even if my nephew, David, sang its praises.

Two stars.

Tallying the Bill

At 2.8 stars, the latest Analog definitely ends up near the bottom of the pack this month, only beating out the perennially puny Amazing (2.2).  Scoring better were Fantasy and Science Fiction and If (3.2), with Galaxy sitting on top with 3.3 stars, mostly thanks to the new Niven novella. There was but one woman-penned piece the entire month, and that done under initials. 

We did get some bright news this month–apparently Galactic Journey has finally made the Hugo ballot after several years of dashed hopes.  So there's the possibility we may actually come home from Nycon with the big rocket ship.

And that would be something to phone about!  On Sunday, when the rates are cheaper…



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Magazine, Science Fiction/Fantasy, Serial

[April 30, 1967] Strange New Worlds and Staid Old Ones (May 1967 Analog)

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by Gideon Marcus

To Boldly Go

In the days of the Gold Rush, the Forty-Niners staked out the most promising spots in the hopes of striking it rich.  They set out across thousands of miles, making harrowing overland or overseas trips to California, setting wobbly feet in the land that would soon be The Golden State, hoping that a survey of their claimed land would be a promising one.

Two Surveyors have made their way to the Moon, the second of which (Surveyor 3–Surveyor 2 didn't make it) has just broken ground on our celestial neighbor.

While we can't pan for gold on the Moon (and, indeed, if there is a precious resource we're hoping to find there, it's water), Surveyor did spread lunar soil on a white surfaced background.  This has allowed geologists…well, selenologists now…to make tentative guesses as to the composition of the Moon.  More importantly, it has been categorically shown that the lunar surface is solid and can be landed upon by Apollo astronauts!  Together with the photos from the several Lunar Orbiter spacecraft, the Sixty-Niners will have a good lay of the lunar land they'll be exploring.

By the way, the first Apollo crew has been chosen.  These are the folks originally slated for Apollo 2, an orbital flight that would have flown a few months after the tragically lost mission of Apollo 1.

They are Walter M. Schirra, Donn F. Eisele, and R. Walter Cunningham.  The first name should be a well known to readers; the other two are rookies from the third group of astronauts, folks recruited specifically for Apollo.  It is unlikely that their flight will take place before 1968, and there will be at least one more manned test before the big jump to the Moon.  There's currently even talk of a trip around the Moon before a landing attempt.

To Timidly Creep

The latest issue of Analog isn't bad, per se.  It's just more of the same.  I suppose it's a winning formula to keep doing what works, but I expect a little more innovation from my scientifiction.


by Kelly Freas

Of Terrans Bearing Gifts, by Richard Grey Sipes

Things don't start promisingly.  We last saw Mr. Sipes in a truly awful epistolary piece a couple of years back.  In his sophomore work, a smug Terran trader, name of Winslow, arrives at planet Nr. 126-24 Wilson Two, UTCC, and proceeds to turn things upside down.  His store for sale includes a teleporter, an instant translator, a nuclear nullifier, a matter duplicator, and much more.

It's all really smug, which I suppose it's possible to be when you're wielding Godlike power.  Winslow justifies his toppling of Wilson Two's society by noting less scrupulous folks will show up sooner or later and do the same thing.  It still doesn't make the story fun reading.

Two stars.

Experts in the Field, by Christopher Anvil


by Kelly Freas

Terran linguists assigned to the planet Marshak III are convinced that the indigenous apex animals are sapient, language-using beings.  But since they can't decipher the language they use, an interstellar rest stop construction concern is going to come in, claim the planet, and pave over the preferred lands of the aborigines.

It's up to Lieutenant Commander Andrew Doyle to solve the linguist riddle and save the day.

For a Chris Anvil story, particularly one appearing in Analog, it's not bad.  Sure, it begins with "[Rank] [Man Name] strode onto the scene…" like virtually every other Anvil story.  Yes, the ending paragraphs seem custom made to tickle editor Campbell's fancy (and guarantee a sale).  But I liked the puzzle, and it was reasonably well written.

Three stars.

Burden of Proof, by Bob Shaw


by Kelly Freas

There's one ray of bright light in this issue, if I may be indulged the pun.  Scottish author Bob Shaw offers up a sequel of sorts to his promising story, Light of Other Days.  In this one, he explores the criminological effects of his "slow glass", a substance that rebroadcasts all of the light received from a certain time over that length of time.  It is the perfect impartial eyewitness to any crime–provided one is willing to wait long enough to get it (a "ten year" pane might well not disgorge its evidence for a decade, and no speed-ups possible).

This particular tale is told from the viewpoint of a judge, who sent a man to the chair for murder…on circumstantial evidence.  What if the eyewitness pane of slowglass, due to show the actual scene ten years after, says something contrary?  Is it a miscarriage of justice?  Can justice wait a decade?

I particularly liked this tale for questions it raises.  It might not be slow glass, but certainly some other technology will arise in the future, like a perfect polygraph or enhancements in fingerprinting, may cause old evidence to be superseded.  Does justice wait for these improvements?  Can it?  And how irrevocable is a decision made on an imperfect data set?

Shaw still is a little clunky in incorporating the explanations of his technologies.  Nevertheless, he has a deft, romantic touch to his writing, sorely needed in his magazine.  I'm glad Campbell found him.  Four stars.

Target: Language, by Lawrence A. Perkins

Mr. Perkins discusses the differences between a variety of languages, and the commonality that may underlie them all.  I don't buy his idea that humans develop an internal language that they then translate/adapt to the local vernacular, but it is clear that our species instinctively picks up language at an early age, and what it doesn't learn, it creates on the fly.

If nothing else, it's one of the most readable pieces I've yet encountered in Analog, and on a subject quite interesting to me (and I can verify much of what he says, having studied Russian, Spanish, Japanese, and Hebrew).

Four stars.

Dead End, by Mike Hodous


by Kelly Freas

Did you ever read The Man Who Never Was?  It's the engaging true tale of how the British hoodwinked the Nazis into thinking the Allied invasion would go through Sardinia rather than Sicily.  It involved seeding a corpse, dressed in a Major's uniform and handcuffed to a briefcase full of forged documents, off the coast of Spain.  He was picked up, turned over to German agents, and the story was swallowed, hook, line, and sinker.

Dead End involves a Terran spaceship disabled by belligerent aliens, the capture and investigation of which is certain to give them the secret to our faster-than-light.  Or lead them down a blind technological alley…

It's an eminently forgettable story, not helped by the aliens being human in all but name (and extra pair of legs), and the humans being smug in the Campbellian tradition.

Two stars.

The Time-Machined Saga (Part 3 of 3), by Harry Harrison


by Kelly Freas

At last, the exploits of Barney Henderson, movie producer extraordinaire, come to a close.  As expected, the only reason there is archaeological evidence of a Viking settlement in Vinland is because Climax Productions made a movie starring Vikings in Vinland.  The whole thing is a circle with no beginning and no end.

It's a compelling thought, further exemplified by a piece of paper that switches hands endlessly between two iterations of Barney.  When did it start?  Who initially drew the diagram on the paper?  Of course, unsaid is the fact that, after endless passings back and forth, the paper should disintegrate…

If the first installment was a bit too silly and the second rather engaging, this third one feels perfunctory.  Harrison tells us how the film got done, but the whole thing is workmanlike.  Not bad, just a bit sterile.  Also, given then carnage involved in the making of the film, I would have preferred a more farcical tone or a more serious one.  The middle-of-the-road path makes light of the horror of first contact and the bloodshed that stemmed therefrom, and it taints the whole story.

So, three stars for this segment and three and a half for the book as a whole.

Summing Up

What a lackluster month this was!  The outstanding stuff would barely fit a slim volume of a single digest.  Analog garnered a sad (2.9) stars.  It is only beaten by Fantasy and Science Fiction (3), and it very slightly edges out IF (2.9) and Fantastic (2.9)–they rounded up to 2.9, while Analog rounded down.  The last issue of Worlds of Tomorrow (2.4) is left in the dust.  We won't have WoT to kick around anymore…

Women wrote 7.41% of the new fiction this month–dismal, but par for the course.  On the other hand, we've got a new star in the screenwriting heavens in the form of Star Trek's D.C. Fontana.  Perhaps TV is where the new crop of STF women will grow.

In any event, I've already gotten a sneak preview of next month's IF.  We have a stunning new Delany to look forward to.  Stay tuned!



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Magazine, Science Fiction/Fantasy

[July 12, 1966] Cool It! (August 1966 Worlds of Tomorrow)

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by Victoria Silverwolf

The Long, Hot Summer

There has been intense heat in many major cities in the eastern United States this month, particularly over the Independence Day weekend. On Sunday, July 3, New York City reached an all-time high for that date with a temperature of 107 degrees. Newark wasn't far behind, at 105 degrees, and Philadelphia was close, with 104.


And Long Island, too.

Cold, Cold Heart

As if editor Frederik Pohl wanted to help us forget about the blistering heat wave, the latest issue of Worlds of Tomorrow is centered around a topic that is literally chilling.


Cover art by Paul E. Wenzel.

Before we step into the freezer, however, let's take a look at the lead story, mistakenly called a Complete Short Novel on the title page, although even the magazine's table of contents admits that it's just a novelette.

Heavenly Host, by Emil Petaja


Illustrations by Jack Gaughan.

Our hero's name is Kirk. If what I read in the trade papers is correct, that is also the name of the main character in the upcoming science fiction television series Star Trek. I assume that's just a coincidence. I guess Kirk is a good, manly name.

Anyway, this Kirk serves aboard a spaceship. He's a bit of a rebel, and winds up punching the tyrannical captain of the vessel. He's thrown into the brig, but manages to escape in a sort of lifeboat. (The implication is that the captain and the ship's cook kind of encouraged him to get away.)

This seems to be a case of jumping out of the frying pan and landing in the fire. (Pardon the corny metaphor. The heat must be getting to me.) Kirk winds up on a planet that is covered with a tangle of stinky vines. He manages to survive by eating the smelly plant and drinking rainwater, but life is hardly pleasant. There are holes here and there in the vines, so Kirk goes down to take a look around.


Exploring the world below.

After narrowly escaping being devoured by a giant worm, Kirk discovers that there's a wondrous Utopia under the odoriferous flora. He meets a beautiful woman, dancing gracefully, who quickly starts smooching on him and takes him on a boat ride.


A self-propelled gondola is the best way to travel in style.

At this point, the reader figures that the woman is just a figment of Kirk's imagination. Her name is Sombra, Spanish for shadow, which seems at first to be another hint that she's a phantom. Besides that, we already know that Kirk has imaginary conversations with his wise Mexican grandfather. However, she and the lovely community wherein she dwells turn out to be quite real.


Is this the Emerald City of Oz?

It seems that a bunch of colonists landed on the planet long ago, and managed to create a society without want, the population devoting all its time to artistic endeavors. This seemingly impossible task, they say, was done with the help of a benign deity called Hur. Kirk and Sombra are in love, of course, and he's eager to marry her, but things change when he gets his first look at the god responsible for this paradise.


Kirk meets Hur.

This is a strange story. It starts off as a tale of survival, becomes something of a wish-fulfillment fantasy, adds a touch of horror, and ends in an ambiguous fashion. I wouldn't call it boring, but I never believed anything that was happening. (One major quibble occurs to me: the people in the utopian city claim that they depend on folks like Kirk showing up to avoid inbreeding. Am I supposed to believe that people randomly land on this seemingly worthless planet frequently?)

Two stars.

Immortality Through Freezing, by Long John Nebel, et al.

This is actually an abridged transcript of a panel discussion broadcast on a New York City radio station. The topic is the possibility of freezing people at the moment of death and reviving them in the future, when medical technology will be able to cure their ailments and bring them back to life.

Besides the host, radio personality Long John Nebel, the group included Frederik Pohl, editor of this very magazine; R. C. W. Ettinger, who wrote a book on the subject, an excerpt from which appeared in the second issue of Worlds of Tomorrow; Joseph Lo Presti, an ophthalmologist; Shirley Herz, a public relations consultant; and the famous pianist/comedian Victor Borge.

That's an oddly mixed group of folks, and I wonder if they just happened to grab whoever was hanging around the radio station at the time. In any case, the guests discuss the definition of death and whether extreme cold could keep people in a state of suspended animation. This is nothing new to science fiction fans, and it pretty much just rehashes the previous article I mentioned. At least the subject matter might help you feel a little cooler and beat the heat.

Two stars.

Deliver the Man!, by Ray E. Banks


Illustrations by Norman Nodel

A starship is on its way to a conference of various alien civilizations. It seems that Earth is considered as something of a backwater, worthy only of being conquered. The ambassador aboard the vessel must reach the meeting on time and manage to convince the extraterrestrials otherwise.

Complicating matters is the fact that Martian colonists, now the enemies of Earth, attack the ship while it's on its way. A space battle follows.


A female warrior in a dogfight in space.

Our hero comes to the rescue of an inexperienced pilot, saving her bacon when she faces two opponents at once. She is hurt but survives the skirmish, only to face further challenges aboard the vessel.


Injured in battle.

There's a planet that insists the ship wait around while they celebrate an anniversary, so that the ambassador will be much too late to save Earth from destruction. The captain stays behind, allowing the vessel to sneak away, although he knows this will mean his death when the deception is discovered. An unpleasant fellow takes command, leading to a love triangle that ends in tragedy.


A crime of passion.

As if that weren't enough trouble, there's the possibility that an alien spy, disguised as a human being, is aboard the ship, intending to sabotage the mission. More deaths follow.


Another murder aboard ship.

All seems hopeless by the end, until our hero steps up and does what has to be done. The conclusion involves the ship's navigator, an eccentric woman who also serves as the hero's love interest.


The enigmatic navigator.

There's certainly enough action going on to satisfy readers looking for slam-bang adventure. The hero has so many obstacles in his way that it almost becomes ludicrous. You also have to assume that starship officers are going to act in completely irrational ways out of sexual jealousy.

Although partly depicted as objects of lust, it was nice to see women aboard the ship in important positions. The navigator, in particular, is an interesting character, although you'll probably figure out what role she plays in the plot.

Two stars.

The Most Delicious Foe, by Lawrence S. Todd


Illustrations by the author.

Our hero runs a business that will perform just about any service for the right fee. (I was reminded of Robert A. Heinlein's 1941 story "–We Also Walk Dogs". Proofreader, please note that the dash and quotation marks are part of the story's title.)

His latest job is to stop a war between two alien species. Each one wants to eat the other. The reptilian aliens just think the centipede-like aliens are tasty, while the centipede-like aliens savor the experience of imagining the lives of the reptiles while devouring them.


Two reptilian aliens read the news. Yes, the text states that they wear tam-o'-shanters.

Our hero has to figure out a way to please the appetites of both species in order to prevent wholesale slaughter.


Who is having whom for dinner?

As you can tell, this is a silly story, apparently intended as a comedy, although nothing particularly funny happens. The author is much better known as a cartoonist and illustrator, and he might want to stick to that line of work in the future.

Two stars.

Tom Swift and the Syndicate, by Sam Moskowitz

The indefatigable historian of all things related to science fiction delves into the subject of children's adventure books of the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries. As the title suggests, the main focus is on the countless stories of Tom Swift and his amazing inventions. However, the article also includes many other endless series, such as Nancy Drew and the Hardy Boys. The bulk of these were plotted by a single man and actually written by a bunch of authors under house names. The Tom Swift, Jr., series continues to this day.

As usual, the author possesses an absolutely astounding amount of information about the subject. Also as usual, the resulting essay is less than compelling.

Two stars.

Homogenized Planet, by Allen Danzif


Illustrations by Dan Adkins.

One of the members of an exploration team on Mars goes off for several days, much longer than he could possibly survive with his limited air supply. Incredibly, he comes back just fine. In fact, he can survive in the extremely thin Martian atmosphere without any problems.

The other folks sedate him and strap him down during the voyage back to Earth. I guess they don't want to take the chance that he's really a Martian shapeshifter or something. Despite their precautions, things start to go wrong. People change from one person into another, or disappear entirely.


An eerie transformation.

At this point, you might think of John W. Campbell, Jr.'s 1938 novella Who Goes There?, with its shapeshifting alien. (Not so much the 1951 movie The Thing from Another World, which eliminated the shapeshifting. On the other hand, I was reminded of the 1958 film It! The Terror from Beyond Space.)

However, things turn out quite differently than expected, and the mood changes drastically. When we finally find out what's really going on, the premise is of some interest, but it requires pages and pages of exposition. The story really grinds down to a halt during its last section.

Two stars.

Island of Light, by Lawrence A. Perkins


Illustrations by Arkin. I have not been able to discover the artist's last name. Could it possibly be Alan Arkin, the star of this year's hit comedy The Russians Are Coming, The Russians Are Coming? He's had a couple of stories published in Galaxy.

In the near future, a city in the northwestern part of the United States takes drastic measures against crime. There is only one way to get into the place, which has expanded so greatly that it takes up part of three states. The normal activities of everyone in the city are recorded, so that computers can predict their whereabouts at any particular time with reasonable accuracy. There are many other methods used to ensure that it is nearly impossible to get away with a crime.


Citizens of Utopia?

A detective from outside the city arrives to observe the local crimefighters. A woman is beaten and robbed, left alive but in a coma. The investigation demonstrates the city's unusual methods, and reveals something about the visiting detective.

The premise is an interesting and provocative one, raising many questions about the proper way to balance freedom and security. Frankly, this story came as something of a relief after all those outer space adventures. The biggest flaw is that it's full of long expository speeches, as the local detective explains things to his guest.

Three stars.

We're Havin' a Heat Wave

Well, that was a disappointing issue, not doing much to take my mind off the hot weather. Perhaps the best way to use it would be to flap the pages against your face to cool down. Either that, or read it while sitting in a room made nice and comfortable by modern technology.


You don't really need to wear a snowsuit while running an air conditioner.

Tune in to KGJ, our radio station, for the coolest and the hottest hits!




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Magazine

[June 30, 1965] Every Day has its Dog (July 1965 Analog)

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by Gideon Marcus

Hail the Sun God

Summer has officially begun.

On June 21, 1965, the northern hemisphere of Earth enjoyed its longest period of daylight (while in Australia, poor fellow traveler, Kaye Dee suffered through the longest night). The Summer Solstice is an event that once had great religious significance, but as the Mosaic religions spread across the globe, celebration of the day waned.

Today, with the rise of neo-druidism (the North American version of it having been related in articles by Erica Frank), the Solstice has once again become a holy day. And 1965's was particularly special: as the Fraternal Order of Druids gathered around Stonehenge, they were treated to the first uncloudy sunrise in 13 years.

With such an auspicious sign, one might expect that June (July cover date) would be a good one for science fiction magazines. Instead, what we got was a dreary muchness that was more akin to the overcast skies of prior Solstices. And no magazine more exemplifies this drabness than this month's Analog:

Noonday Overcast


by John Schoenherr

Trader Team (Part 1 of 2), by Poul Anderson


by John Schoenherr

Poul Anderson is the Cepheid variable of the science fiction genre: he pulses from brilliance to dullness with regularity. In the midpoints, he produces competent but longwinded stuff like the Van Rijn tales, which detail the exploits of a canny Terran trader trying to enhance his fortune in the Galactic "Polesotechnic League."

Trader Team features David Falkayn, a young cadet we last saw in the mediocre Three-Cornerned Wheel. Thanks to the ingenuity he displayed in that story, Falkayn has been tapped to be Van Rijn's apprentice, his first mission to open up trade on the backward planet of Ikrananka.

The story starts crackingly, introducing the four members of the crew of the Muddlin' Through: Falkayn, the young Captain; Chee, a furry, imprecation-throwing female from planet Cynthia; Adzel, the gentle saurian neo-Buddhist from Woden; and "Muddlehead", the ship's computer. The ship has been in virtual quarantine for several weeks as no representative of the planet's local feudal state will approach them.

Then, in the midst of an intense poker game, Falkayn espies a beautiful woman soldier fleeing from a troop of Ikranankan cavalry. He saves her and brings her aboard ship only to discover that he has given aid to a fugitive of the very polity he is trying to establish relations with!

So far so good, but the next thirty pages are a drag. There's some nice scientific worldbuilding, in which we learn Ikrananka is a one-face planet, that Stepha (the saved soldier) is one of the third generation of spacewrecked humans who now, as a race, hire themselves out as mercenaries, and that Ikrananka would make a nice planet for trade if only its disparate fiefdoms could be unified.

But the story itself meanders in that wordy, shaggy dog style that Poul defaults to when he's on autopilot. The scene in which Adzel gets roaringly drunk and then implicated in a human insurrection is played for laughs, but it's just tedious. When Chee is captured, too, the reaction it elicits is a yawn rather than concern.

And if I have to read another line about what Falkayn thinks of Stepha's physical form, I'll throw the book against the wall. It'd also be nice to see more non-romantic female characters in general (though I will concede that Chee being female is a step in the right direction).

A low three stars.

In the Light of Further Data, by Christopher Anvil


by Kelly Freas

Data is an Anvil story in a Campbell-edited mag, so caveat emptor.

And your caution is justified. Data is a story in newspaper article excerpts of two intersecting threads. The first is the development of a miracle tissue regrowth process that quickly recruits millions of patients seeking replacements for lost teeth. The second is the battle between a professor who asserts that science is the foundation of truth, and the religious community who pushes back on the assertion.

In the end, said professor cheerfully gets a new mouth of choppers, just as it's determined that there is a fatal flaw in the regrowth technique. The punchline is he quits science and becomes a missionary.

The moral, I assume, is that those eggheads don't know everything. It's certainly a philosophy Campbell has flogged to death.

Anyway, it's a dumb story. Two stars.

Hands Full of Space, by Stephen A. Kallis, Jr.

We get a respite of sorts in the nonfiction article. It's about the difficulties of engineering for the intense harshness of space. Kallis tells us what happens to electronic components when exposed to zero pressure — they weld to each other, their surfaces vaporize and then coat other surfaces — and then there's the wear of hellish radiation and the danger from whizzing micrometeoroids.

It's all very informative and accessible, if a bit long and occasionally disjointed. When Analog's science piece is better than Ley's in Galaxy and Asimov's in F&SF, you know the world is truly inconstant!

Four stars.

Soupstone, by Gordon R. Dickson


by John Schoenherr

Here's another ingenue spaceman saves the day story. Soupstone is the sequel to Sleight of Wit, in which a clever human defeats an alien adversary largely by virtue of said alien being implausibly dim.

This time, Major Hank Shallo is sent to Crown World as a special trouble-shooter. The problem he must solve involves a crop of alien oversized grapes that would produce a most exquisite brandy in tremendous quantities if only they could keep them from rotting in the warehouses. It's all a matter of timing in the picking process, you see.

Shallo, an inept buffoon, is unable to solve the problem himself, but he is able to gather all the folks together who can solve the problem, and in doing so, sets them on their way to effecting the solution. And if you know the fable about making soup from a stone (I did) then you get the reference. And if you don't, don't worry — Dickson explains it for you.

Dickson is capable of much better than these "funny" stories, and once again, the ladies are included just for leering.

Two stars.

The Adventure of the Extraterrestrial, by Mack Reynolds


by John Schoenherr

It is rare that the science fiction and mystery genres overlap. Asimov's R. Daneel Olivaw tales and Garrett's Lord Darcy series pretty much round out the list. In Adventure, Reynolds crosses SF with The Detective, the one and only supersleuth of Baker Street (though neither Holmes nor Watson are ever mentioned by name).

An octogenarian Holmes is engaged by the spendthrift son of a rich gentleman. The son is putatively concerned for his father's mental health as he has engaged in a Fortean obsession with aliens, which have taken up residence in London, he maintains.

Reynolds is a good writer, and he executes a fair homage to the Doyle style. But while I enjoyed the story, I found Watson's constant and repetitive harping on Holmes to be offputting. And there are only so many times I need to be reminded of Holmes' age through note of his "senility," "chortling," "blathering," "dribbling," "inanity," etc. etc. Virtually every line includes a reference, and it's overmuch.

Also, and this is a small thing, Holmes' client talks of his father's obsession with "flying saucers." The story is indisputably set in the mid-to-late 1930s. Flying saucers did not become idiomatic vogue until after the war, in astonishing concert with the arrival of jet planes and rocketships. The anachronism vexed.

Still, it's the best story of the issue. A high three stars.

Though a Sparrow Fall, by Scott Nichols

One of those conversation pieces in which the story progresses in party dialogue. Turns out that the human genetic code has been written, or at least tampered with, such that a message has been buried within. By whom, and for whom, it is not known.

There's an interesting germ of a story here, almost something Theodore L. Thomas might address in his little column in F&SF. It doesn't really go anywhere, though.

Three stars.

Delivered with Feeling, by Lawrence A. Perkins


by Kelly Freas

At last, Mr. Perkins offers up another "lone man solves the problems of an alien world" story. This one deals with a planet whose disunion into dozens of profession-castes has made it easy prey for alien raiders. Because the invading planet and Earth are party to a mutual non-aggression pact, our protagonist can provide no material aid. Instead, he simply gives them a rallying slogan, which because of the unique qualities of the subjugated race, proves sufficient to throw off the alien onslaught.

The kicker, of course, is how the protagonist hatched his scheme. It's one of those technical puzzle stories that has been the stale bread and butter of the genre for decades. It's readable and forgettable.

Three stars.

A Dim Augury

Just one magazine cracked the three-star barrier this month: Fantasy and Science Fiction with 3.2 stars. IF and Science Fantasy were inoffensive three-star issues whilst (as Mark and Kris might say) New Worlds stumbled in at just 2.7. As this month's Analog scored a 2.8, it barely misses out on being the worst of the bunch.

And what a meager bunch it is! Without Galaxy and Worlds of Tomorrow (they're bimonthlies) and since the former Goldsmith mags, Amazing and Fantastic were on hiatus this month, there really wasn't much to read. Worse yet, there was just one woman-penned piece out of the 27 fiction stories published this month.

That the magazines were all fairly unremarkable, save perhaps for the unusually decent F&SF, just goes to show that even when the Sun God makes an appearance, it doesn't always herald good fortune.

Ah well. The Sun sets, but it also rises, and each day brings promise anew…


Sunrise, Roy Lichtenstein's latest masterpiece — see, this month wasn't all bad…




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Book, Magazine, Serial

[March 30, 1965] Suborbital Shots (April 1965 Analog)

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by Gideon Marcus

Mission Failures

It's been a tremendous month for fans of the Space Race. I won't go into detail here, since we already published an article on Voskhod 2, Gemini 3, etc. just last week.

Thanks to Newton's Third Law, or perhaps the Second Law of Thermodynamics, or maybe Finagle/Murphy's First, the science fiction mags have been correspondingly lousy.  If we call the 3-star threshold making it into orbit, then virtually every SF digest this month was a suborbital dud. John Campbell's Analog, which led the pack last month, is among the damp squibs this month.

T Minus Zero


by John Schoenherr

Goblin Night, by James H. Schmitz


by John Schoenherr

15-year old telepath, Telzey Amberdon, is back.  On a camping trip with her class in Melno Park on the planet of Orado, she makes psychic contact with a handicapped, housebound fellow named Robane.  He seems an innocent and lonely man, but he seems somehow connected with a lurking, murderous presence that Telzey and her classmates have sensed.  Can the young ESPer, with the help of her mastiff, Chomir, defeat this menace?

Scmitz keeps Goblin Night's pages turning, and there's no question but that Schoenherr illustrated it beautifully for the issue's cover.  But the story is several pages too long (not in plot, but in execution) and Telzey has absolutely no personality at all — she could be Retief or DinAlt or Steve Duke for all we get of her character.

So, three stars.  Still, it's probably the best story of the issue.

Fad, by Mack Reynolds


by Alan Moyler

Sometime a few decades from now (slang use suggests Fad is set in Joe Mauser's timeline) a pair of conmen decide to sell the ultimate product.  Joan of Arc will be packaged and pitched to be the avatar of a sales empire featuring medieval styles, Joan-inspired games, Jeanne D'arc themed automobiles, etc. etc.  High jinks ensue, and high profits are threatened by those uppity women becoming inspired by The Maid of Orleans to take their rightful place on the political scene.

In the right hands, this could have been an interesting, satirical piece.  As is, it's about as sensitive and palatable as Reynolds' atrocious Good Indian.

Barely two stars, and that only because it reads fairly briskly.

No Throne of His Own, by Lawrence A. Perkins


by Kelly Freas

Worse is the second "funny" story of this issue, by a brand new author.  Something about a human Private on an alien world whose experience with the local booze leads him to understanding how a Terran invasion was at first thwarted and later welcomed.  I think.  Truth to tell, it was a confusing mess, and I skimmed it as a result.

One star.

The Space Technology of a Track Meet, by Robert S. Richardson

A saving grace of this issue is the nonfiction article by the reliable Richardson.  He apparently spent a few weeks doing some complicated math to see how athletes might really perform at sports on planets of different gravities.

Useful, interesting stuff — I just wish he'd included more equations for easier following along.

Four stars.

The Prophet of Dune (Part 4 of 5), by Frank Herbert


by John Schoenherr

Last up, we have the humorless, plodding fourth installment of Part Two of the Dune saga.  With no transition whatsoever, the setting changes to two years after the last installment.  Paul Muad'Dib, son of the late Duke Leto Atreides, is still hiding out with the desert-dwelling Fremen, harvesters of the geriatic melange spice of Arrakis.  A vassal of the nefarious Harkonnen Barony, who usurped the Atreides claim two years prior, is slowly losing control of the planet, and the Fremen are anxious to strike.  But before Paul can lead his ragtag army in revolt, he must become a full Fremen, which requires that he mount the titanic Makers — the sand worms of Arrakis.

Meanwhile, Paul's mother, Lady Jessica, now the Reverend Mother of the Fremen, deals with the fallout of her transforming spice poison into liquor in her system after ingestion during her induction ceremony two years prior.  For her unborn daughter, Alia, was imprinted with all of Jessica's experience, which also includes that of all the Reverend Mothers of the Fremen before her.  Alia is, thus, a toddler burdened with several lifetimes of knowledge…much like her brother, Paul, due to his spice-given precognitive skills.  This makes her a feared freak, though what role she has to play in the saga is yet unknown.

There are some interesting bits, but for the most part, a could-be fascinating epic is marred by amateur writing, some laughable errors ("A head popped up into the con-bubble beside Gurney — the factory commander, a one-eyed old pirate with full beard, the blue eyes [emphasis added] and milky teeth of a spice diet."), and the damnable constantly switching viewpoint.

A very low three, I guess.

After Action Report

In the end, dreary as it was, Analog was far from the worst SF mag this month.  Though it only scored 2.6 stars, it was surpassed in lousiness by Amazing, IF (2 stars), and Gamma (1.9 stars).  Galaxy was a little better (2.7), followed by Science Fantasy and Fantastic (2.8), and then Worlds of Tomorrow (2.9).  Only New Worlds Fantasy and Science Fiction made it to orbit, and only just — 3 and 3.1 stars, respectively.

As with the real Space Race, women are mostly (though not entirely) unrepresented; only Jane Beauclerk and the amazing Zenna Henderson were published this month.  Perhaps more women astronauts…er…writers can rescue us from this dark chapter in our genre.

One can but hope!

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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