Tag Archives: R. C. FitzPatrick

Magazine, Science Fiction/Fantasy, Serial

[June 30, 1968] Hawk among the sparrows (July 1968 Analog)

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by Gideon Marcus

It's all in who you know

This month, the legendary Earl Warren, former governor of my state of California, and Chief Justice during one of the Supreme Court's most dramatic eras, announced that he was stepping down.  No sooner had he done this that President Johnson tapped Abe Fortas, Associate Justice since 1965, for the chief position among the top black-robes.

Fortas and LBJ go way back, all the way to 1948's Texas Democratic primary for Senator, when the young lawyer successfully won a legal challenge to LBJ's victory.  Since then, their stars have been interlinked.  Some of Fortas' fellow justices (and many newspapers) suggest that the Justice and the President's relationship is a bit too chummy.  Still, Fortas has been a good, liberal judge, and he'd probably be a fine Chief Justice.  Sometimes the good ol' boy network doesn't hurt anybody.

This segues nicely into my review of this month's issue of Analog.  Campbell, like many SF magazine editors, has a stable of reliable authors.  This means he always has work of a certain quality to fill his issues.  It also tends to crowd out new talent.  This results in a kind of conservatism, and often a bit of mediocrity.  This month, however, things work out a bit better than average.

Let's take a look!


by Kelly Freas

Familiar faces

Hawk Among the Sparrows, by Dean McLaughlin


by Kelly Freas

Howard Farman is the pilot of the Pika-don, a cross between the SR-71 hypersonic recon plane and the VTOL "Harrier" (which is about to enter British service).  On a mission to monitor a French weapons test, some scientificish gobbledegook happens, knocking Farman back in time to 1917–the midst of The Great War.  Sort of a reverse of the Twilight Zone episode, The Last Flight.

Once there, he finds himself ensconced with a French fighter squadron.  They are being trounced by a German Ace.  Eighty men died trying to break his spree, but no one can stop the bloody Red Baron of Germany.  Actually, it's not Richtofen; it's a fictional(?) #2, for whom there is no canine counterpart.

Farman is convinced that he can turn things around if he can just get his advanced fighter off the ground, something that will require building a whole industry of jet fuel production.  And even once he manages that, his missiles and radar won't track the wood-and-canvas Fokkers of the enemy.  What to do?

This is a very pleasant story, quite readable.  It does have a few holes big enough to ram a Nieuport through.  For one, it is most unrealistic that a man from 1975 with ten thousand flight hours would have no understanding of propeller planes.  You can't get Air Force wings today without first racking up dozens of hours in simple prop aircraft, and Farman must have first gotten commissioned before or around 1968.  Maybe if the jet came from some time in the 21st Century, it'd be more plausible (though I can't imagine ever starting fighter jocks on jets–that's a recipe for disaster).

The second hole is that Farman is oblivious for far too long of the effects of the jet wash, something with which he should be intimately familiar.

Finally, while I appreciate the nod to logistics, what with Farman needing to manufacture kerosene for his plane, it strains credulity that a super-advanced jet could reliably fly after several months in a field with no maintenance.

Four stars, but it is clear that McLaughlin (who has been AWOL from Analog since 1964) does not have a strong aviation background.

Null Zone, by Joe Poyer


by Kelly Freas

How does one stop the Ho Chi Minh trail, when it is really a vast network of mini-trails with far too many branches to interdict?  By building a highway of nuclear waste across it, of course!

Joe tells an engaging story, with the spark of color with which he always imbues his technical pieces.  But I can't imagine the logistics of transport/production make this a feasible possibility, never mind the humanitarian aspects.  Does editor Campbell ever mind the humanitarian aspects?

Three stars.

"To Sleep, Perchance to Dream … ", by W. C. Francis


by Kelly Freas

Alright, there's always an exception that proves the rule.  I've never heard of Francis before, so I guess Campbell did save a slot for a novice.

On the way to the stars, a spaceman in stasis finds himself lost in an increasingly convoluted nightmare.  Is this part of the process, or has something gone off the rails?

Reading this story was akin to hearing someone tell you about the dreams they had last night.  It's usually fascinating for the teller and dull for the audience.  The ending to the tale, however, pulls this piece into the low three star range.

Winkin, Blinkin and πR²?, by R. C. FitzPatrick


by Kelly Freas

I think this one takes place in the same setting as The Circuit Riders from six years back.  Cops are using emotion detectors to track down a gang of bank robbers.  For the most part, the criminals keep their cool, but every so often, their ring-leader blows his stack, and it pops up as a blip on a scope at police HQ.

Kind of a dull tale, this police procedural, with a lot of casual grousing and bickering in lieu of characterization.  Probably the worst piece in the mag.

Two stars.

Icarus and Einstein, by R. S. Richardson

Analog's resident astronomer offers up a science fact piece about the Earth-grazing (comparatively) asteroid of Icarus.  The bulk of the piece is on how the mile-long hunk of rock could be used to test General Relativity, in the same way Mercury has been.

It's a fascinating topic, though Richardson fails to explain why General Relativity affects orbits. This is a common failing of all works on the topic, mainly because the explanation is not particularly simple to relate.  Well, maybe it's not.  Let me try:

There is a Special Relativity variant of Newton's law of motion, in which a bit (expression) is added to the equation to factor for an object's proximity to the speed of light.  It can generally be omitted at the low speeds we're used to since the speed of light is on the bottom of that fraction, and thus, it comes out pretty close to zero most of the time.

Similarly, with General Relativity, in addition to the effect of gravity being equal to the proportion of the masses of two objects divided by the square of their distance, there's an additional expression that factors in the warping of space by the gravity of a mass, which gets higher the closer one gets to it.  As in the Special Relativity equation, the value of this expression is usually close to zero.  But when the object is as massive as the Sun, and the other object gets really close, it becomes significant.

There.  That wasn't so hard.

Anyway, the problem with the article isn't the content, but the presentation.  I understood it, but I also majored in astrophysics.  I suspect most people will scratch heads in confusion.  Which is a little weird; Richardson is usually better than that.

Three stars.

Satan's World (Part 3 of 4), by Poul Anderson


by Kelly Freas

If you recall the last installment of this serial, merchant captain David Falkayn and his raccoon-like associate, Chee Lan, had arrived at the mysterious world of Satan.  The planet had been in a deep freeze for eons, but now it is approaching its hot sun, and its cryosphere is evaporating, uncovering a bonanza of valuable minerals.  But 23 alien warships have suddenly also appeared, and a confrontation is inevitable.

When it occurs, Falkayn is surprised to find that Latimer, one of the five shareholders for Serendipity Inc. (the knowledge brokers that have become a linchpin of the galactic economy), is working for Gahood, a member of the minotaur-like race of aliens called the Shenn.  The Shenn are using Serendipity as a kind of fifth column, and they are the first real threat to the Galactic Commonwealth.

Some genuinely thrilling scenes ensue.  I particularly liked the evocative bit where Falkayn's ship, the Muddlin' Through, careens through the stormy atmosphere of Satan, 19 robotic destroyers in hot pursuit.  I kept thinking, "You can't find this kind of imagery anywhere but in books.  Movie technology just can't capture such magic the way the printed word can."

But just as I was about to give this segment a four on the Star-o-meter, the last five pages brought back the bawdy merchant Van Rijn and the collossal bore, Adzel, along with five pages of expositional writing.

Back to three it goes!  Conclusion next month.

Leveraging human capital

I don't say this too often, but thank goodness for Analog!  Clocking in at 3.1 stars, it and Fantasy and Science Fiction (3.3) are the only mags that ended above the 3 star line.

The other mags included IF (2.9), New Worlds (2.7), Galaxy (2.6), and Amazing (2.5).

You could fit all of the above-3 stuff in a single magazine (wouldn't that be nice?) And women accounted for just 2.6% of all the new material–that is to say, thanks to Carol Emshwiller and F&SF from keeping this month from being a stag shut-out.

Another reason to look beyond plowed pastures for talent–we might get more stories by women-folk in our mags!




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Magazine, Science Fiction/Fantasy

[March 20, 1968] Missed opportunities (April 1968 Fantasy and Science Fiction)

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by Gideon Marcus

A week is a long time in politics

The British Prime Minister Harold Wilson is fond of noting that a lot can change in just seven days.  In American politics, the last seven days have witnessed a lifetime of tumult.

It was just last year that President Johnson was polling in the 70s.  When Minnesota Senator Eugene McCarthy, stand-offish, brainy, tepid in his commitment, took to the field last November, few took his insurgent, Anti-Vietnam-War campaign seriously.  Least of all, President Johnson, who did not even apply to be on the ballot in New Hampshire's primary, scheduled for March 12.

Then the Tet Offensive happened, giving lie to the idea of slow but steady progress in Southeast Asia.  The Credibility Gap between the populace and the President became a canyon, and when the dust had settled, Senator McCarthy had garnered just 230 votes less than LBJ in the year's first Democratic primary.

Just a few days latter, Senator Robert F. Kennedy, who had last year demurred from running, referring anti-war supplicants in McCarthy's direction, decided to throw his hat in the ring.  The Democratic insurgency has become a full-on party civil war.

Johnson's complacence reminds me of Georges Ernest Boulanger, who in January 1889 was elected deputy for Paris and seemed on the verge of leading a personal coup against the Third Republic.  But on the fateful day of January 27, when the crowds roamed the streets and chanted his name, the would-be despot was nowhere to be found.  Turned out he had missed his moment, lost in the arms of his mistress rather than under arms with his supporters.

Who knows where all this is headed?  It just goes to show that even the most promising candidate can fail for lack of sufficient focus on the goal.  And this leads me into discussion of this month's issue of Fantasy and Science Fiction.


by Bert Tanner

Burned batch

Have you ever been careless in the kitchen, not so much as to ruin dinner, but to render it far less palatable than it could have been?  All of the stories this month are missing something.  Their imperfection lies in missing some quality, or in some cases, an overcooking of sorts.  The result is a handful of ideas that could have been good in others' hands, or perhaps with more expert editing, or more time and care in production.

Flight of Fancy, by Daniel F. Galouye

After a long hiatus, the author of the brilliant Dark Universe returns to the pages of science fiction with this, probably the best piece of the issue.

Frank Proctor is an ad man, miserable in his career and his life, shackled to a beautiful woman who insists on tormenting him with affair after affair.  But he stubbornly refuses to divorce her, knowing it means financial ruin.  His only solace is his recurrent dreams in which he has the ability to fly.  He knows it is a stress reaction, but at least it is a moment's surcease.

A greater balm arises: at a company beach party, Frank falls asleep by the shore and immediately begins to soar in his dream.  While apparently still in slumber, he meets a lovely young lady, who also possesses the ability to fly.  Happily, she is still there when he wakes, and he assumes he must have been sleeping with his eyes open for her to infiltrate his sleep.

Of course, romance is inevitable.  But what of his Frank's scheming wife, and will the pictures she took of him and his new love put him over a barrel?  The ending is ultimately a happy one, if a bit pat.

This is a well-crafted and vivid story.  My only real issue is it feels a bit like wish-fulfillment, and I have to wonder if Galouye just went through a messy divorce.

Four stars.

Dead to Rights, by R. C. FitzPatrick

Crime boss Angelo Amadeo is rubbed out by his second.  When the instrument of Angelo's death turns stoolie, the second's devotees enlist a surgeon to recall Angelo to life, reasoning that if Angelo is not dead anymore, then he never could have been murdered.

The problem is, Angelo's body is brought back to life, but the soul inside is most definitely not his.  Instead, the reborn inhabitant preaches love of fellow man and everlasting life in the adoration of God.

You can see where this is going.

Too much effort is made to make this a "funny" piece, and the conclusion is obvious from the start.  Two stars.


by Gahan Wilson

Without a Doubt Dream, by Bruce McAllister

Antonio and his lovely wife, Alba, wake up one day to find their pine-ensconced villa suddenly surrounded by endless desert.  Worse, the insinuating sands are slowly creeping in, destroying all that they touch.  Antonio reasons that only his psychic ability is shielding them, but his doubt in the same talent is causing him to lose the battle.

McAllister describes this all in an earnest, somber tone, and he successfully captures the feeling of a pair of foreign protagonists.  However, the piece ends rather abruptly, and without a great deal of evolution of the story.  Moreover, the tone is a bit too one-dimensional.

Thus, for this third piece by this promising, 19-year old author, I give three stars.

Demon, by Larry Brody

Pinchok, a simple blue-collar worker who happens to be the denizen of another plane, is summoned to Earth in a pentagram by a would-be three-wisher.  When Pinchok turns out to be rather useless as a genie, the summoner decides maybe Pinchok should devote his talents to crime…for the benefit of the human, of course.

The concept of demons just being aliens in another dimension, and the art of demonology more a kind of kidnapping (with the implication that it might work the other direction, too, with humans becoming the demons) is an intriguing premise.

This tale, while pleasant enough, just doesn't do enough with it, however.  Three stars.

The Superior Sex, by Miriam Allen deFord

William, an astronaut, finds himself the newest member of an all-male harem, subject to an imperious and beautiful mistress.  He cannot recall how he got there, but he can recall being from a world dedicated to the principle (if not the assiduous practice) of equality between the sexes.  Thus, he rankles at his new role, and in an interview with his mistress, exclaims that he would rather die than live subjugated.

Of course, the truth of his situation is more complex than it first seems.

This is almost a great story.  DeFord, an ardent women's libber before the phrase was coined, has a promising message in this piece that is then muddled by its ending.  Too bad.

Three stars.

The Time of His Life, by Larry Eisenberg

One of science fiction's few writer/scientists offers up this tale of a middle-aged scientist resentful of forever being in the shadow of his Nobel-winning father, who covets his son's wastrel youth.  Said elder has now invented a kind of time travel, but it ages or youthens the traveler rather than sending him elsewhen.  In the end, both father and son get what they want.

A decent Twilight Zone-esque piece.  Three stars.

The Dance of the Sun, by Isaac Asimov

This month, the good Doctor discusses the phases of the inner planets with respect to the Earth.  He also notes that Dr. Richardson had done a similar piece for Analog a few months back.  Frankly, I was more impressed with Richardson's; I found Asimov's dry and difficult to follow.  And astronomy was my major!

Two stars.

Muscadine, by Ron Goulart

Mr. Muscadine is an android programmed to produce great books.  The secret to his success is the idiosyncrasies fundamentally coded into his electronic brain.  But as his eccentricities spin out of control, his agent finds himself conspiring with the android's programmer toward a drastic solution.

Goulart can write well, and he can also write funny.  He does neither here.  Two stars.

Final War, by K. M. O'Donnell

Finally, an anti-war piece in the vein of Heller's Catch 22.  It features a Private Hastings, a war-addled First Sergeant, and an indecisive Captain, whose unit spends three days a week capturing a forest, three days a week being driven from the forest, and Mondays resting.  What follows is the usual silliness of war, including friendly fire, endless red tape, and general insanity.

Harrison did it MUCH better in his Starsloggers.  This one meanders for way too long in a singular vein.  Two stars.

Expected results

With a limp offering like this, it's no surprise that this issue ends up on the wrong side of three stars.  It's a shame.  Joe/Ed Ferman's mag is often one of the frontrunners in the field.  But with a month like this, I suspect Mercury Publishing is going to have an upset when compared against its competitors for April 1968.

Luckily, science fiction is an endless primary, and a month is a very very long time.




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Magazine, Science Fiction/Fantasy, Serial

[December 31, 1967] Surprise, surprise!  (January 1968 Analog)

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by Gideon Marcus

Evitability

There are some things you can count on in life: death, taxes, the North Vietnamese violating their own Christmas truce more than a hundred times.

But sometimes, life deals you surprises.  For instance, who knew that Hubert Humphrey was still alive?  Yet he must be kicking for he is currently in Africa on a goodwill tour of the continent.


And, as a fellow exclaimed when I gave him a preview of my thoughts on this month's issue of Analog, "A five star story in Analog?  Really?"

Well, it's true.  Read on and find out how it happened!

Expect the unexpected

The Bugs That Live at -423°, by Joseph Green and Fuller C. Jones

First off, a very long article on the teething troubles faced by the developers of the Centaur rocket.  This powerful second stage is used atop Atlas and Titan missiles to send big payloads to Earth's orbit and beyond.  To do so, it uses liquid hydrogen as a fuel, which entails a whole host of problems.

There is a lot of good information in here, but as is often the case in Analog science articles, its presentation is confusing.  There are no section breaks, so the whole thing runs together such that even I, a professional space historian, found my eyes glazing over.

I've no idea if "Joseph Green" is the same one who writes science fiction for UK magazines.  Probably not.

Anyway, three stars.

There is a Tide, by R. C. FitzPatrick and Leigh Richmond


by Kelly Freas

A couple of years ago, R. C. FitzPatrick started a series of stories about a surgeon who has perfected the technique of human brain transplants.  The first story was mildly interesting but prolonged, and the second veered heavily into the uncomfortable zone of eugenics.  After all, the transplant of a healthy brain requires a donor body…and it's hard to find ones that aren't inhabited, and don't even the feeble minded have the right to their own corpus?

Tide is the third story in the series, and by far the best.  There are two parallel, intersecting plots.  One involves a brilliant young physicist with inoperable cancer, who comes to the surgeon's sanatorium to wait for a suitable "transplant" candidate.  The second pertains to a self-styled "Duke" of organized crime.  Intelligent, ruthless, and aging, the mob boss wants a healthy body to get a new lease on life.  Surprisingly, the surgeon is willing to take the Duke's case, even before the mafioso breaks out the threats.

There are some important distinguishing characteristics between Tide and its predecessors.  For one, it is now stressed that only the truly brain-dead are eligible "donors".  It's not a matter of finding more value in a smart brain and a moronic one; only a virtually untenanted body is acceptable.  The writing is far more compelling in this piece, too, with lots of interesting asides that flesh out the characters and the world they inhabit.

But most importantly, the ethical issue is confronted head on.  It doesn't matter if the AMA or politicians or ethicists oppose the technology of brain transplants.  Once that genie is out of the bottle, someone will take advantage of it–if not the scrupulous, then the unscrupulous.  As the first (somewhat) successful human heart transplants of this month have shown, this technology is no longer a pipe dream.  We will someday have to face this issue.  I felt this story did a better job of addressing this problem than Niven's (still pretty good) The Jigsaw Man, which came out a couple of months ago.

So how did FitzPatrick manage to write such a good story when his others were middling or worse?  You'll notice the second name in the byline.  I have a strong suspicion that Leigh Richmond is responsible for most of this piece.  Certainly, she's the new variable.

Five stars.

… And Cauldron Bubble, by Bruce Daniels


by Kelly Freas

Of course, what goes up…

Bubble is a piece in epistolary form about a near future in which the United States has scientifically developed dowsing and other hocus pocus into a full cabinet department.  This would be a frivolous but diverting piece in F&SF, but knowing as I do that Analog's editor, John Campbell, actually believes in the efficacy of dowsing, well, it reads like propaganda.

Two stars.

The System, by Ben Bova

Bova offers up this two-page cautionary tale about the dangers of overdirection of scientific development.  It kind of steps on its own toes to make its message, though.

Two stars.

Such Stuff As Dreams …, by Sterling E. Lanier


by Kelly Freas

A dashing young space navy commander signs up to join a top secret spy organization that has the real power in the galaxy.  He is subjected to a number of tests, mostly to try his patience, before being given the final exam: a test of survival on an alien world.  The dangers are of monstrous, almost unbelievable proportion, and the candidate wonders why.

Of course, the title of the piece gives it away.

Competent but forgettable.  Three stars.

Dragonrider (Part 2 of 2), by Anne McCaffrey


by Kelly Freas

Lastly, the conclusion to what will likely be a three-part fixup novel.  The planet of Pern is faced with deadly peril: the Red Star approacheth, and with it, onslaughts of deadly rhysome "threads" that despoil all living things that they touch.  The only defense is fire-breathing, telepathic dragons flown by specially selected riders.  The problem is only one of the six dragonrider weyrs is still in operation, and that one is woefully understaffed.

F'lar, the head rider, thought he had a solution to this problem when he learned that Lessa, the rider of the dragon queen Ramoth, discovered the ability to ride her mount through time.  Last installment, the weyrleader sent his brother and a team back in time ten years to raise a new crop of dragons.  Unfortunately, living more than once in the same time is detrimental to one's health, and the endeavor was largely a failure.  Now, the only hope lies in the past, and an historical ballad about the wholesale departure of five weyrs some four hundred years ago–to destinations unknown…

There are the bones of an interesting novel here, although the gratuitous use of time travel as a plot point usually creates more problems than it solves.  Also, By His Bootstraps stories tend to be dull since you already know what's going to happen.

But the biggest problem here is that McCaffrey just isn't quite up to the story she's trying to tell.  A fine teller of short stories (The Woman in the Tower and The Ship Who Sang being standout examples), she struggles with the longer format.  Her characters are shallow and unpleasant.  The "romantic" relationship between Lessa and F'lar is disturbing when it isn't annoying.  Lessa's theme song might well be, "He Shook Me, and It Felt Like a Kiss", and the only ones privy to F'lar's love for Lessa are the readers since the weyrleader is determined never to show affection for his lady.  Ugh.

The doggerel that prefaces each chapter completes the mask of mediocrity on this promising tale.  Perhaps a combo of Jack Vance and Rosel George Brown (R.I.P.) could have done Dragonrider justice.  And maybe, as my colleague David suggests, a story between the first and second parts could have smoothed the transition (something to be fixed pending novelization?)

It really is a shame since it's rare to get a sweeping epic from the perspective of a woman, and the first part made me hopeful.  As is, this last segment, and the three-part story as a whole get three stars.

Doing the math

When you put it all together, the January 1968 issue of Analog ends up at 3.1 stars, just on the positive end of the ledger.  That actually puts it at the #2 spot for the month, just edging out IF (3.1), and losing to Fantasy and Science Fiction (3.3).  The rest of this month's mags finished below the middling mark, with Fantastic at 2.9, New Writings at 2.8, and the abysmal new Beyond Infinity garnering just 1.5.  As a result, though six magazines were released, you could fill just two of them with four and five star stories.

The big surprise, though, is the resurgence in feminine participation.  Women contributed 13% of the new short fiction produced this month.  While still a low number, it is comparatively enormous.  And more surprisingly, the bulk of the woman-penned work (at least by pages) was published in Analog.

If even fuddy duddy Campbell can produce a progressive mag, I think we've got good times in store as the calendar turns to 1968!  Happy New Year indeed…



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Science Fiction/Fantasy, Serial

[February 28, 1967] The Big Stall (March 1967 Analog)

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by Gideon Marcus

The Big Push

After a year of build-up, air raids, and smaller actions, the United States and the Army of the Republic of Vietnam have opened up the largest offensive of the war.  Operation Junction Central involves some 50,000 troops pouring into the logistical heart of VC-controlled South Vietnam west of Saigon.  Their goal: to find the communist equivalent of the "Pentagon".  It's a classic hammer and anvil style operation, with nearly a thousand paratroopers forming the brunt of the anvil behind enemy lines.  The push is accompanied by the biggest logistical bombing raid we've seen in weeks.

Whether this colossal effort will bear fruit remains to be seen.  The Viet Cong and North Vietnamese Army have only seemed to grow despite constant combat.  More and more often, the fights occur on even, conventional terms rather than as furtive guerrila efforts.

But with half a million soldiers "in country", I suppose it was time to do something.  Perhaps the momentum of operations will switch to the allied forces.

Business as Usual

Analog editor John Campbell seems unaware that institutional decay has set in.  And with no great competitors from without, he is unwilling to change a formula for his magazine that has remained for the past two decades.  I suppose that, as long as he sells more than everyone else, he doesn't need to.

On the other hand, I read that Analog's monthly distribution is down from the 200K+ it enjoyed early in the decade.  Maybe the wolves at the door will instigate a sea change.  Or a palace coup…

In any event, until that happen (note the subjunctive mood), we can expect more issues like the one for March 1967.  Dull.  Uninspiring.


by John Schoenherr

The Time-Machined Saga (Part 1 of 3), by Harry Harrison

Harrison once again displays his near interchangibility with Keith Laumer, at least when he writes "funny" stuff (his dramatic prose is a notch above Laumer's, I think).  This serial involves a film company on the verge of bankruptcy.  Salvation appears in the form of a time machine.  Said "vremeatron" will not be used to alter history, purloin lost treasures from the past, or other, potentially lucrative (but old hat) endeavors.  No, instead, the movie house is going to travel back to A.D. 1000 to film the True Story of Leif Erickson…Hollywood style.

Said on-location filming will cut costs dramatically: no need to hire extras, no unions, and best of all, since the time machine can come back to the moment after it departed, no time involved!  (the production company still gets paid for the time it spends in the past, though).  What could go wrong?

I suspect we'll get the answer to that question next installment.

A tepid three stars thus far.  I could take it or leave it.

Radical Center, by Mack Reynolds


by John Schoenherr

In a piece designed for Campbell's reactionary heart, Reynolds writes about a time in the not-too-distant future when the trends of apathy, crime, and downright down-on-Americanism have reached a zenith.  A hack journalist, badly in need of a story, posits an imaginary illuminati bringing this malaise upon us intentionally.

Little does he know how right he is.

I can't help but deplore the sentiment behind and suffused into this piece.  Next, we'll have stories about how long hair is Ruining Society.  On the other hand, I feel Reynolds has something when suggests that unscrupulous forces will utilize apathy of the masses to allow their comparatively small blocs to sway policy.  Also, I really liked the line, regarding a clown of a politician, "He was laughed into office."

So two stars and a wrinkled nose.

Countdown for Surveyor, by Joseph Green

My eyes lit up at the title of this one.  I love pieces on the Space Race, and this inside dope promised to be exciting.

It wasn't.  It's as dull as reciting a checklist, and three times as long.

Two stars.

In the Shadow, by Michael Karageorge


by Kelly Freas

After a short piece (probably by Campbell) about ball lightning and free-floating plasma (interesting so far as it goes), we have the latest story by Michael Karageorge, whoever he is.

The space ship Shikari is exploring a new gravitational source zooming through our solar system.  It emits no light, but it has the mass of a star.  Is it a cold "black dwarf"?  A rogue neutron star?  Or something else entirely?

The characterization in this one can be reduced to a set of 3×5" index cards each with two or three words on them.  Things like "irritable, downtrodden genius".  "Absent-minded professor."  "Weeping woman."  "Comforting woman." 

On the other hand, the science is pretty neat, even if I don't buy it for a minute. 

I didn't hate it.  It's not as good as Karageorge's first story, though.  Three stars.

The Uninvited Guest, by Christopher Anvil


by Kelly Freas

A shiny ellipsoid appears on a launch pad and starts to take nibbles out of everything: walls, roads, machinery, people.  It appears invulnerable to attack, but it also seems to be of failing vitality.  The problem, it is deduced, is that if the thing dies entirely, it will explode with the power of an atom bomb.

Can the alien visitor be thwarted or succored before time runs out?

For an Anvil story, it's not bad.  Which means a high two or a low three.  I'm feeling charitable today.

The Compleat All-American, by R. C. FitzPatrick


by Kelly Freas

A young man, good at anything he wants to be, is dragooned by his father into playing football.  His remarkable abilities, largely consisting of not getting hurt and performing miracles with the pigskin when under pressure, catch the eye of two government investigators.

After fifteen pages of shaggy dog fluff, we learn that said All-American is invulnerable and unstoppable.  He also, luckily, has no ambition.  Three more shaggy pages of dog fluff follow this revelation.

I guess this is what's under the barrel.  One star.

What's the score?

Half way around the world, forces clash in a titanic struggle between Democracy and Communism.  Or maybe it's pitched fight between a downtrodden people and the venal imperialists and their running dog lackeys.  However you characterize it, Something Big is Happening.

But here on the pages of Campbell's mag, not much of interest is happening at all.  Analog finishes at just 2.3 stars, by far the worst mag of the month.  Above it are Fantasy and Science Fiction (2.6), Fantastic (3.2), New Worlds (3.25), and IF (3.3). 

Things are actually worse than it seems.  Only the last of these mags was really outstanding (Fantastic is mostly reprints, New Worlds was basically an Aldiss novel with a few vignettes for ballast).

Adding insult to injury, just one woman-penned story came out this month, and there were only 25 pieces of fiction in all the magazines, period. 

Something's gotta change soon.  This can't go on forever…



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Serial

[December 31, 1965] Untermag (January 1966 Analog

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by Gideon Marcus

[Time is running out to get your Worldcon membership!  Register here to be able to vote for the Hugos next year.]

Ubermensch

There's no question that John W. Campbell's got an axe to grind.  Not too long ago, he wrote an editorial about how the bipedal humanoid form, the best, most efficient, most effective of body types, was the natural end result of evolution on an Earthlike planet.  In another screed, he opined that slavery warn't so bad, and that Black Americans did better ante-bellum than we think.

These aren't anomalies: from what Isaac Asimov and others have said (I've never met John personally), the editor of Analog has some very fixed views of the world, and they include a belief in a hierarchy of races, a natural superiority of some to others.

Because of this, the stories in his magazine tend to reflect this view, one way or another.  Either John adds these elements in post-production, or his authors know to include them as a way to guarantee a sale. Analog is a prestige publication, after all.

And lest you think that's John's quaint views are simply emblematic of the less-than-enlightened times we live in, I will simply point out that we review all science fiction mags at the Journey, and Analog definitely is the odd man out.

Anyway, this month's magazine is a particularly egregious example of the Campbellian Mystique.  Let's dig in, shall we?

Sein Kampf


by Kelly Freas

Second Seeded, by R. C. FitzPatrick


by Kelly Freas

In FitzPatrick's earlier story Half a Loaf, we were introduced to a revolutionary institute whose surgeons could transplant a healthy mind from a ruined body into the healthy body of a mental vegetable.  The story explored some of the ethical concerns involved and, while it didn't hit it out of the park, it was pretty interesting.

The sequel is dreadful.

A Marine Major, name of Adams, is killed along with his wife in action in Borneo.  Their infant son becomes brain dead from hypoxia, all hope of regaining cognitive functions lost.  Around the same time, the infant son of two concert pianists is in a car accident that kills his parents and leaves him a quadriplegic.  Thus, the stage is set for a human brain transplant; the new wrinkle is that the patient won't have memory of the event, will be raised by the extended Adams clan.

This would be fine, even interesting save for the endless screeds in favor of eugenics that come out of the mouths of the protagonist.  The basic argument is that there aren't enough "Great Men" in the world as it is (women, explicitly, don't count) so saving as many as possible through this surgical technique is of utmost importance.  Beyond that, it's vital that the transplanted infant brain be an Adams because the Adams family is amazing and has been so since the time of the Revolution.  As an "Adams," the pianist boy will not only be an exemplary person because his parents were prodigies, but his gonads will house Adams sperm, which will ensure the Adams genes continue.  The espouser of this view gets a bit vague and contradictory when asked if it's the actual genetics or simply the continuity of family that ensures the Adamses produce a Great Man every generation, but it's clear he tends toward the former (and this is borne out by events in the story). 

Two stars rather than one, because it's not badly written.  But yech.

Now, since I had to pay to read FitzPatrick and Campbell's offensive rant, you can get mine for free.  In my experience, all human beings are of roughly equal potential.  Sure, there are smart ones and stupid ones — abilities distribute in bell curves — but whether a person will be smart or stupid does not correlate to genetics.  This means that everyone, given resources and opportunity, can develop to the fullest of their physical capabilities.  They can be as smart, strong, and talented as is possible for them. 

There are almost three billion people on this planet.  Some of them are stupid.  Most of them are average.  Some of them are brilliant.  If we want more "Great Men", there are much better ways of growing them than cherry picking a few children with presidential surnames. 

One is to raise the standard of living for everyone so that all children have the ability to develop to their full potential.  LBJ has the right idea with his Great Society; I expect the next generation will see a lot more geniuses (and happiness) in Appalachia. 

Another is to broaden the pool from which "Great Men" are drawn.  Here's a crazy thought: what if women weren't excluded from the pool?  Wouldn't that, in and of itself, double the number of Great "Men"?  And indeed, that's just what's started to happen already.  I have written about the women scientists and engineers involved in space exploration.  Their work has been critical to the success of our space-related endeavors, and there is no guarantee that their contributions would have (or could have) been made by anyone else, at least at that juncture in history.

So I disagree with the the theme of Second Seeded.  Like all bad philosophies, it collapses in the face of empirical evidence to the contrary.  And on a related note, I disagree that future Presidents of the United States will all have to have socially acceptable WASP names like Adams, Lincoln, and Jackson (as one of the characters opines in the story).  Does anyone remember the fellow with the funny name of "Eisenhower"?  Or the Irish Catholic name of "Kennedy"?

I fully believe that we'll have a President in my lifetime with the "exotic" name of Takahashi, Singh, or Okoye.  Perhaps her first name will be Mildred.

Untropy, by Christopher Anvil


by Kelly Freas

Shaggy dog tale about a trading vessel that gets lost in hyperspace in a zone where the laws of probability leave nothing to chance.  The way they get back is obvious, and the story is rather trivial, but it's not bad reading.

Three stars.

A Bit Player, by Lyle R. Hamilton

All about the evolution of telemetry and its application to missiles and space travel.  Long, engaging, but way too high level for me (and I majored in astrophysics!) it will probably go over your head as well.

Three stars.

Kelvin Throop Rudes Again!, by E. Silverman

My outspoken nephew, David, has a habit of dashing out discourteous memos when he's peeved.  He calls them "nastygrams".  In Throop, new author Silverman offers up a collection of memos (it's not really an epistolary story as there's no story) of a middle manager kvetching at subordinates and vendors.

Not science fiction.  Not good.  One star.

Beehive (Part 2 of 2), by Mack Reynolds


by Kelly Freas

And, at last, the conclusion of Beehive, which began last issue.  Genetics takes the fore again when we learn that the enemy "Dawnworlders" have divided themselves into rigid castes, and in so doing, have thus been able to progress to tremendous technological heights.  Of course, if non-caste human beings had been given millions of years to accomplish the same feats, I'm sure we could have…

Anyway, the second half of the story is just as glib and silly as the first, with lots of speeches and exposition.  I did appreciate that there was some self awareness that Section G of the United Planets is as much a dictatorship as Phrygia, home of Baron Max, the would-be galactic Mussolini.  This was alloyed by the constant reinforcement that the protagonist's sidekick is an Indian.  He's referred to as "the Indian" and he uses the words "squaw," "scalp," and "firewater," whenever he can.

This isn't the first time Mack Reynolds has had trouble with this particular ethnicity.

Anyway, there are some interesting Laumeresque bits, but for the most part, this is a Reynolds that can be skipped.

Two stars.

Calculating the damage

Feeding the pages of the January 1966 Analog into the Star-o-meter (and setting the machine to "destroy copy after processing") I get a result of 2.3 stars.  Depressingly, I'm sure this will be one of the more popular issues of the magazine this year.

How did the other mags fare this month?  Well, Worlds of Tomorrow and New Worlds both scored 3.3 stars.  The less daring Science Fantasy got 2.8 as did IF, even though the latter was buouyed by the new Heinlein serial.  Fantasy & Science Fiction turned in a disappointing 2.5 star performance, and the mostly reprints Fantastic barely got 2.4.

They were still all better than Analog.

Speaking of shallow selection pools, women continue to be barely represented, producing two of 36 fiction pieces for a whopping 5.5% share.  Better than the 0% of last month, I suppose.  All told, the truly good stories this month would struggle to fill the pages of IF, much less a bigger mag like Galaxy. 

Well, tomorrow is a new year.  Perhaps Janus will favor us with auspicious auguries, and our fortunes will turn around.  And hey…Campbell won't live forever.

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Magazine, Serial

[July 31, 1965] A spoonful of sugar (August 1965 Analog)

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by Gideon Marcus

Good and bad medicine

Yesterday saw a major milestone in the journey toward President Johnson's "Great Society": Medicare is now a reality, though it won't take effect until July 1 of next year.  This offshoot of Social Security puts the U.S. government in the insurance business, ensuring health care for our nation's elderly.  It's a first step toward the universal health care endorsed so fervently by Harry Truman nearly twenty years ago.

Of course, the legislation has its detractors, most vocally the American Medical Association, which has been against medical insurance in general for decades and against government involvement therein specifically.  They certainly don't like the idea of their fee being in any way mandated from above.  Medicare currently has a provision that the fee a doctor charges the program must be “customary, prevailing and reasonable.” On the other hand, there is a loophole in that provision, put in to appease the AMA, that says doctors don't have to accept what Medicare pays them as payment in full.

I wonder if that provision will be abused…

It is perhaps only coincidence that this month's issue of Analog is fronted by pieces inspired by the health industry.  One can but admire editor John W. Campbell Jr. for his perspicacity in timing.  However, since Campbell is the editor, the conclusions his pieces arrive at aren't necessarily in concordance with my views.  You can let me know what you think:

Say Awwwww


by Kelly Freas

Half a Loaf, by R. C. FitzPatrick


by Kelly Freas

Children with severe mental disability beyond the possibility of treatment are being sent to Sunnyvale, a terminal home.  Comfort is the priority for the kids as their maladies appear incurable; they are to simply live out the rest of their lives being cared for.

This bleak outlook isn't good enough for Sylvia, a social worker who has become attached to Tommy Magee, an eight year old child with a fine mind but no control of his body.  When Tommy is sent to Sunnyvale, she heads there, too, to investigate.  It turns out that there is some kind of treatment going on after all, and children are being sent home, apparently in full command of their faculties.

Loaf is thus something of a detective story, with the reader following Sylvia along until she, with the help of her doctor friend, Morecai, learns Sunnyvale's secret.

FitzPatrick is a relatively new author with few titles to his credit.  There is no question but that he can write compellingly, and Loaf sucks you in immediately.  But the author waits too long to reveal the twist, reducing the piece to something of a gimmick story.  Moreover, the treatment process has, shall we say, profound moral implications that are left virtually unaddressed.  FitzPatrick could have cut to the chase much sooner and explored the ramifications of his tale more thoroughly, to the greater satisfaction to this reader, at least.  As is, the author ends with a conspiratorial wink as the curtain drops.  It's got Campbell's editorial fingerprints all over it.  By now, we all know his stance on eugenics, after all.

Anyway, three stars — an average of a four-star start and a two-star finish.

Positive Feedback, by Christopher Anvil


by Kelly Freas

Chris Anvil can write, honest.  I've seen it.  But never when he publishes in Analog.  Feedback is a tale in epistolary about the dangers of universal auto insurance.  It's really an indictment of medical insurance, arguing that 1) insurance just leads to folks getting unnecessary procedures and 2) people should eschew the experts and just learn a little more self care.

Never mind that insurance allows for preventative maintenance that can head off expensive procedures.  And never mind that, despite what Campbell may think, trained medical doctors…er…certified auto mechanics know a bit more about what they service than individuals.

I'm not saying that we might not benefit from learning to change our own oil (or moderate our diet) but the straw insurance man Anvil presents is a ludicrous way to try to make that point.

Two stars.

Microminiature Industry, by Carl A. Larson

Apparently, yeasts and other microorganisms have been and can be used to synthesize all sorts of useful chemicals.  I say "apparently" because this meandering, subheadingless article was pretty much unreadable.

Two stars for actually being science, at least.

Sleep No More, by James H. Schmitz


by John Schoenherr

The prospect of a Telzey Amberdon story always fills me with mixed feelings.  On the one hand, tales of a 15-year old brilliant telepathic girl should be right up my alley.  On the other hand, Schmitz (who has written great stuff but often doesn't) has increasingly managed to leach any character or color from these stories. 

Last time we saw Telzey, she had psychically enfeebled the mind of the murderous Robane, a powerful telepath in a crippled body who lured people to his estate to be mauled by his pet beast.  When Telzey goes back to make sure Robane is truly harmless, she is set upon by a teleporting monster.

Telzey, in this story, has absolutely no personality.  She simply goes through the motions of evasion and planning to come out alive, and the reader will not know anything more about her by the end than they did at the beginning.  Schmitz also manages to never say in one word what he can say in two.

It's really a shame that I cannot give this tale more than two stars.

Fighting Division, by Randall Garrett


by Leo Summers

We have a slight uptick in this short Garrett piece, about a President who hoaxes an alien invasion to unite the normally hostile superpowers.  It's an old plot, but Garrett gives it a fresh twist. 

Three stars.  Probably the best story in the magazine; certainly the one sweet spot in a bitter brew.

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


by John Schoenherr

And finally, we conclude the adventures of Falkayn, the Terran assigned to the one-face world of Ikrananka (last issue) to try to establish trade relations.  While on the planet, the local human population, warrior descendants of a crashed starship, revolt and try to seize control.

Though this second half of the story is as long as the first half, virtually nothing of consequence happens in it.  There are attempts at a rollicking story with vignettes involving the foul-mouthed, monkey-like Chee, the centaur saurian Buddhist, Adzel, and the rather hapless but ultimately triumphant human, Falkayn.  But the whole thing falls flat, much more akin to the author's A Bicycle Built for Brew than his Three Hearts and Three Lions or his The High Crusade.

Sorry I don't have more to say about it; it's utterly forgettable.  Two stars for this installment, two and a half for the total.

Diagnosing the Patient

The medicine is good deal more castor oil than grape cough syrup this month, that's for certain.  Only Worlds of Tomorrow (3.3 stars) and Science Fantasy (3 stars) finished above the mediocre line.

New Worlds clocked in at 2.8 and Fantasy and Science Fiction scored 2.6.  IF was a dismal 2.3.

But the bottom of the month is reserved for Analog and Amazing (a tie at 2.1) and the putrescent Galaxy (1.8).

Out of 50 stories, just one (1) was written by a woman.  Not only does science fiction appear to be dying, but we are retrogressing in terms of demographic equality.

Do we pull the plug, or is there hope for resuscitation?

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Magazine

[October 20, 1964] The Struggle (November 1964 Fantasy and Science Fiction)

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[Have you gotten your copy of Rediscovery: Science Fiction by Women (1958-1963)? It's got some of the best science fiction of the Silver Age, many of the stories first appearing in The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction!)


by Gideon Marcus

The Good Fight

1964 has been a year of struggle.  The struggle to integrate our nation, the struggle against disorder in the cities, titanic power struggles in the U.S., the U.K. and now the U.S.S.R.  The struggle to hold on to South Vietnam, to preserve Congo as a whole nation.  The struggle of folk, rock, Motown, country, and surf against the inexorable British invasion.

So it's no wonder that this month's Fantasy and Science Fiction makes struggle the central component of so many of its stories.  This magazine is wont to have "All Star Issues" — this one is an "All Theme Issue":


by Ed Emshwiller

The Issues at Hand

Greenplace, by Tom Purdom

Purdom, who just wrote the excellent I want the Stars (review coming in the next Galactoscope), depicts a 21st Century in which immortality has created a stranglehold on politics.  Canny machine bosses can hold on to power indefinitely.  Nicholson is a man who would break this power, loading himself up on psychically enhancing drugs and personally investigating "Greenplace", a stronghold neighborhood of the 8th Congressional District.  There, he encounters resistance, violence, and a secret…

Remarkable for its melange of interesting ideas and surreal execution, it's a little too consciously weird for true effectiveness.  Three stars.

After Everything, What? by Dick Moore

Two thousand years ago, genetic supermen ruled the galaxy.  They weren't dictators; rather, they were created by humans to be the best that humanity could be (that's what the story says — I'm not endorsing eugenics).  After a century of dominance, they all died out.

It's a well-written piece, but the conclusion is obvious from the beginning: the ubermenschen struggled against boredom…and lost.

Three stars.

Treat, by Walter H. Kerr

It used to be that, on Halloween, people would wear scary masks so that when they encountered bonafide spooks on their day of free reign, they would be mistaken for compatriots.  Nowadays, the shoe is on the other foot — spooks can only freely walk the Earth on Oct. 31 since everyone mistakes their frightening faces for masks.

Cute?  Three stars.

Breakthrough, by Jack Sharkey

Here, the struggle is Man vs. Machine.  A chess-playing computer betrays its sentience by developing a sense of humor.  So its creator, tormented with feelings of inferiority, shoots the machine dead.

Sharkey can be good.  More often he can be bad.  Here, Sharkey is about as bad as he ever gets.

One star.

Dark Conception, by Louis J. A. Adams

When the Savior comes again, will it be in the form of another virgin birth?  And what happens when the new Mary happens to be Black?

This is the first piece of the issue that has some of the old F&SF power, but the ending doesn't pack a lot of punch since the conclusion is telegraphed, and the author doesn't do much with it.

Three stars for this missed opportunity of a tale.

One Man's Dream, by Sydney Van Scyoc

Against age, all mortals struggle in vain.  A Mr. Rybik has himself "tanked" in life-sustaining fluids in the hopes of purchasing a few more years.  But not for himself — he wants to preserve the other personality who lives in his head, the pulp adventurer called Anderson.  This Anderson is more real to him than even his wife or his kids, entertaining, sustaining, allowing Rybik to enjoy a life of vicarious excitement.

But when Rybik's money runs out, he finds that no one in the real world wants to pony up dough to save a crazy dreamer who neglected his family.  Can Anderson save him now?

Well crafted, it engages while it lasts, and then sort of fades away.  Like Anderson.

Three stars.

The New Encyclopaedist – III, by Stephen Becker

Another of these faux articles written for an encyclopaedia, copyright 2100 A.D.  This one details a latter day crusade against immorality by a McCarthy parody.  Mostly a bore, though there is one genuinely funny line.

Two stars.

Where Do You Live, Queen Esther? by Avram Davidson

Esther is a Creole house-servant.  Her struggle is with her employer, Eleanor Raidy, who treats her poorly.  In typically overwritten fashion, the author details Esther's revenge.  Only Avram can make seven pages feel like 20.

I understand Davidson is quitting the editorship of F&SF to devote more time to his writing.  If this is the kind of stuff we can look forward to, he might consider an altogether different career.  And it's a reprint, no less!

Two stars.

The Black of Night, by Isaac Asimov

Dr. A's article for the month details the struggle to answer Olbers' paradox: if the universe be infinite, and stars evenly distributed, why isn't the night sky as bright as the day's?

As one might guess, the issue is with the postulates.  Neither are correct, as we now know.  Asimov does his usual fine job explaining things for the layman.

Four stars.

On the House, by R. C. FitzPatrick

In the earlier story, Dark Conception, the husband of the pregnant Mary confronts Mary's doctor.  Both husband and doctor are Black, but the husband considers the doctor a "Tom" and won't be satisfied with mere equality:

"I don' want what you want, man.  I want what they got and for them to be like me now.  I want to lead me a lynch mob and hang someone who looks at one of our girls.  I want to rend me some of my land to one of them and let them get one payment behind.  I want them to try to send they kids to our school.  I want 'em to give me back myself like I was before, when I didn't hurt so bad that I better off dead."

Fitzpatrick's On the House is a deal with the Devil story, but the protagonist is a Black woman, and all she wants is to change places with "one of them". 

It's another piece that would do a lot better with development beyond the punchline, but I at least appreciate the variation on the theme.

Three stars.

Portrait of the Artist, by Harry Harrison

If there is going to be one struggle that defines the modern age, it's the struggle to reconcile automation with personal dignity.  Harrison, in this piece, shows the mental devastation that happens when even such an imagination-laden field as comic artistry can be done by a machine. 

It was pretty good up to the end where (if you'll pardon the unintentional pun, given how the story ends), Harrison fails to stick the landing.

Three stars.

Hag, by Russell F. Letson, Jr.

Is a witch's pox effective against modern vaccination?

Another pleasant (if forgettable) prose poem.

Three stars.

Oversight, by Richard Olin

Wacky doctor wins his struggle against aging by infusing his cells with planaria (flatworm) DNA.  It has unintended consequences.

Another story with an obvious ending — and this one doesn't make biological sense. 

Olin's last (and first) story was better.  Two stars.

The Third Coordinate, by Adam Smith

We end with the struggle to reach the stars.  The concept is novel: humanity has invented a teleporter, but while direction can be controlled, distance cannot.  What its operators need is three known destinations, coordinates that can be used to calibrate the device so that accurate ranging can be done.

Great idea.  Very poor execution.  Nothing happens for the first 20 pages but some of the clunkiest exposition and character development I've read in a while.  And there's no tension in the end, either.  Pilot succeeds, end of story.

Two stars, and a hope that the theme gets picked up by someone with more chops.

Summing Up

As it turns out, the biggest struggle this month was finishing the damned magazine.  Conflict is vital to any story, but it's only one component.  Execution and development matter, too.  Even Davidson's story intros have lapsed into badness.  I'm looking forward to the editor's departure from F&SF; any change has to be an improvement, right?

[Come join us at Portal 55, Galactic Journey's real-time lounge! Talk about your favorite SFF, chat with the Traveler and co., relax, sit a spell…]




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Magazine

[March 22, 1962] Provoking Thought (April 1962 Analog)

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by Gideon Marcus

Ask the average citizen their opinion of science fiction and they'll likely mention monsters, flying saucers, and ray guns.  SF has gotten a bad rap lately, largely due to the execrable movies nominally representing it, but there's no question that the pulps of the 30s and 40s, and the lesser magazines of the 50s didn't help much.  And yet, only Science fiction offers endless worlds in which to explore fundamental human issues.  Religion.  Philosophy.  Politics.  It is only in our fantastic genre that the concept "if this goes on" can be pushed to extremes, whether a story be set in the far future or on a remote planet.  SF isn't just kiddie stuff – it can be the most adult of genres.

Case in point: Analog, formerly Astounding Science Fiction, set a standard in the pulp era as the grown-up magazine in the field.  And while I've had something of a love-hate relationship with the digest that Campbell built, this particular issue – the April 1962 edition – offers up some intriguing political predictions that, if not probable, are at least noteworthy.

Mercenary, by Mack Reynolds

Take four concepts and carry them to the nth degree: 1) unions and corporations increase in power such that they become virtual nations; 2) world disarmament is achieved – to the point that post-1900 weaponry is abolished; 3) the public's demand for violence on television is insatiable; 4) economic class stratification gets stronger. 

The result is a United States where private entities no longer resolve disputes in court; they do literal battle with brigades, even divisions of professional soldiers.  Their conflicts are televised as circuses for the masses (whose bread needs have been met by automation).  Mercenary is the tale of a veteran-for-hire who is desperately trying to climb the social ranks with the one remaining avenue: a successful military career.

This novella is my favorite of the bunch.  Reynolds, who has traveled the world and seen both the Soviet Union and the Mahgreb first-hand, invests his work with a gritty realism that elevates it above its genre siblings.  It's what Dickson's Dorsai should have been in about half the space.  Four stars.

Toy Shop, by Harry Harrison

When no reputable government agency will look at your breakthrough scientific achievement, then it's time to resort to unorthodox methods, right?  I'm disappointed with this one.  It's clearly an opportunity for Harrison (normally quite good) to get a quick $100 from editor Campbell, who champions all sorts of quackery.  Two stars.

A Slave is a Slave, by H. Beam Piper

Take a colony of humans, reduce them to slavery at the hands of a rapacious space vikings, and let stew for seven centuries.  Then topple the viking-descended overlords and see what happens.  This story, set in Piper's often presented Galactic Empire, is a clear analogy for decolonization.  It's got some straw men, some broad strokes, some glib presentation, but I think it makes some good points.  The oppressed aren't always the good guys.  The road to democracy is a long and fraught one.  Noble intentions do not guarantee positive outcomes.  Three stars.

Suppressed Invention, by John W. Campbell, Jr.

I rolled my eyes when I saw the title and the byline for this one, but I was surprised to find that this essay, about recent advancements in electric battery science, is both readable and informative.  Sure, it's got a little bit of the Campbellian spin on things, but the basic facts are here and nicely presented.  Three stars.

The Circuit Riders, by R. C. FitzPatrick

We've seen the idea of "pre-crime" before, where police attempt to stop incidents before they occur.  The example that stands out most to me is Philip K. Dick's Minority Report.  FitzPatrick, to all accounts, is a new author, but he's arrived on the scene with a visceral sensitivity in his first story that suggests he'll be offering up great stuff in the future.  A detractor from Riders is that, after a fantastic cold open first act, FitzPatrick then devotes an unnecessary scene to explaining the mechanics behind the "deAngelis" thought monitor.  Also, the resolution isn't quite up to the build-up.  An invention that can monitor emotional patterns needs a book, is worth a book.  Three stars.

***

Thus, Analog finishes this month on the right side of decent 3-star quality.  Moreover, it presents a set of intriguing visions guaranteed to make you think.  And that's exactly what science fiction should do.

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