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It’s (Nearly) All About Aldiss [August 22, 1965] Science Fantasy and New Worlds, September 1965

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by Mark Yon

Scenes from England

Hello again!

As I type this, we’re a few days away from the 23rd Worldcon in London. Worldcons outside of the US don’t happen very often – the last one here was in 1957 – but it somehow seems right at the moment. Despite my feeling of lethargy last month, there’s a lot of optimism about in England, more than I’ve felt for a while. The reasons for it are perhaps many and varied – a young Labour government, the Beatles dominating the world and who seem to be a voice for the young generation, even the New Wave of science fiction that seems to be gaining headway and shaking things up.

To me, a Worldcon in Britain seems to encapsulate this. It promises to be new and exciting, at the cutting edge of the genre, with original writing and new writers out there to make things interesting. If you are attending, I hope it is everything it deserves to be.

With the Worldcon in mind, the magazines have steadily been building up pressure over the year. In this month of Worldcon ‘65, their issues seem to reflect the pent-up feeling of excitement, as both issues have some connection with the convention.

I’ll explain as we go along. As per usual, the issue that arrived first in the post this month was Science Fantasy.

Well, after the comparative lightness of last month’s cover, we seem to have taken on a much darker hue this month. That cover by an unknown artist is a bit too murky for me, almost to the point where I might say that I miss the usual Keith Roberts covers.

However, there may be subtle persuasion at work here, in that because the picture is so dark, the attention of the casual reader may be focused on the magazine’s heading. If, as they say, ‘sex sells’, then this might do it.

The Editorial this month is not usual. Instead of the usual debate created by Kyril, we have instead an article by Brian Aldiss (wonder why?) that seems to do little else but point out that his first-published novel Non-Stop has been republished in England. Whilst the cynical amongst-us might see this as an extended advertisement, it is written with Brian’s own endearing and self-deprecating tone. He explains the background to the original publication, how the American publishers gave away the twist in the story by changing the title, and finally tells us what he would do to revise the novel if he was writing it now. It is quite charming – rather like the man himself. I’ll mention the novel again later.

To the actual stories.

Boomerang, by E. C. Tubb

The return of the prodigious E C Tubb after his popular last serial story, The Life Buyer in the April – June 1965 issues of New Worlds. Boomerang is a story of murder and revenge. Told in the first person, Marlow is a man who from the start freely admits that he went on a murderous rampage against Granger, who he hates. As a result, Marlow burned down Granger’s house, “poisoned his friends, mutilated his pets and did things to his family” – nice chap!

Marlow’s punishment is to be exiled on his own to Hades, which as you might expect from its name is a barely tolerable planet to live out the rest of his days. The story here goes all Robinson Crusoe, and I rather expected it to become an Analog style story of a man overcoming adversity. But wait! The ‘boomerang’ of the title is that – wait for it! – his victim comes to the planet to finish him off! It’s nicely done overall, and reminded me a little of Alfred Bester’s Tiger! Tiger! in the sense of total hate that seems to exude off the page. With this in mind, the ending is satisfying. 3 out of 5.

Coming-Of-Age Day, by A K Jorgenssen

Warning! Warning! Kyril begins this with an explanation that he’s used before. It goes something like – “I read this one and thought. 'I can’t possibly publish this one!' And then I thought some more and decided 'Why not?'”

I must admit that given the lurid blurb on the front cover of a “startling story of sex in the future”, I was rather grimly expecting an over-heated story of a future where the coming-of-age is celebrated by some sort of sexual rite-of-passage, with some pretty obvious clichés and awful sex scenes.

To my surprise, it’s rather a restrained work. The main premise is that in the future everyone who enters puberty is fitted with what I will politely describe as a sexual appliance known as a consex. Andrews, the male character of the narrative tells of the process and explains why most people, male or female, has one fitted. He is fairly happy with the idea, especially when the 'sexiatrist' (doctor) explains that having one fitted is good, because every adult has one. The suggestion also that it is better than sex is also a pretty winning argument.

In a wider perspective, it has solved many social issues and has become a culturally accepted thing for both males and females, reducing basic urges and satisfying the needs of couples and bachelors alike. The story seems to be more about the need for cultural compliance rather than sex, although Andrews overhears Topolski, another more reluctant young man who, despite being put under pressure to comply, appears to refuse the fitting.

Whilst the story fizzles out at the end, it is one that made me think. Is the device a future version of contraception? How would a society, especially a British society, known for its stiff upper lip and reserve, become so accepting of something that would affect everyone at a personal level? Could it happen?

If the sign of a good story is that it makes you think, then this one scores – if you can buy into the idea working. 4 out of 5.

Temptation for the Leader, by R W Mackelworth

The return of RW, last seen in the July 1965 issue of Science Fantasy. Most of Mackelworth’s stories tend to deal with the issues of identity and responsibility in a future society, and this one is no different. A meeting between an alien who names itself “Poniard”, and “the President” of a capitalist nation (who may be the leader of the USA, though it is never clearly stated) leads to an offer of help and guidance for the human race – but at a price. In the end, the offer is rejected because of the effect it would have on individuality and capitalist values.

This is a very talky story, the conclusion is straight out of Arthur C Clarke’s Childhood’s End. There’s some good ideas here but the author seems to go about them in a rather roundabout way. 3 out of 5.

At Last, the True Story of Frankenstein, by Harry Harrison

Over at New Worlds, Harry is having his latest novel serialised. Here he tells a simpler and more serious shaggy-dog story by telling of Victor Frankenstein V, now reduced to being part of a carnival show and in need of a new animated body. At the same time Harry rewrites Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley’s seminal story in six pages, with a clever mix of humour and horror. Ray Bradbury would be proud of this one. 4 out of 5.

Sule Skerry, by Rob Sproat

Not an author’s name that I remember, so this seems to be the latest ‘new writer’ to grace the magazine. The idea is that Sule Skerry is a folksong collected by people recording old legends but then turned into prose. Whilst I don’t know if this Northumbrian story of the selkie is based on a real folk-song, I found the story quite sad and remarkably moving. A mythic folktale that was better than I thought it was going to be. 4 out of 5.

The Jobbers, by Johnny Byrne

Johnny has produced some very strange stories in the past. They are often too odd for my tastes, although this one was less obtuse than many. It begins with an unnamed man talking to two very small people who then appear to climb into his brain. They are ‘Jobbers’, whose purpose is to get into a person’s brain and prepare their body ready for the next inhabitant. It starts quite light-hearted but by the end becomes rather creepy. The twist in the tale, of whether what is happening is real or some imagined attack of insanity, is left up to the reader to decide. 3 out of 5.

Omega and Alpha, by Robert Cheetham

This month’s offering from a debut author, a bleak short story told in the form of a diary by an author and his wife who have gone to get away from it all on a tropical island. When a missile station on the far side of the island is destroyed – it is not clear whether it is just the island that is affected or a global event – the resultant radiation and ash leads to death. Another post-apocalyptic story of the sort that we’ve had a lot of lately, but it is quite effective in showing what the effects of a nuclear war would be after the bombs have gone off. An interesting debut, even if it treads a familiar path. 3 out of 5.

The Furies (Part 3 of 3), by Keith Roberts

To Keith’s last part of this story, which in my opinion has been one of the magazine’s strengths of the last few months.

Last issue we were left with Bill Sampson, having begun the human fight-back against the wasps, attempting to go and find his young friend Jane in France, only to be shot at by an army patrol and crashing his car.

This final part picks up where we left off. Bill is retrieved and brought back to health by two of his friends still hidden away in the Mendip Hills – Greg and Pete. Once he has recovered, the group hiding in the Chill Leer caves continue their guerrilla attacks upon the wasps, with varying degrees of success. There is an attack by the wasps inside the caves the humans have been hiding in. Eventually Bill and the traumatised girl 'Pete' are captured. To their surprise, rather than be killed, as many of their friends have been, they are spoken to by the Queen Wasp in a deus ex machina conclusion that explains the purpose of the wasps and leaves them with one message – that the wasps are dying because their determination to evolve rapidly has caused racial regression and that the humans must carry on and continue the Wasp’s purpose – to continue Life.

There are questions raised about the importance of hive intelligence, but this all ends rather suddenly, with a huge dollop of exposition and everything being tied up rather too abruptly for my liking. Most of all, the big plot reveal at the end is a bit of a stinker after such a great set-up. It rather feels like the author felt he was running out of time or space to finish the story and it all ends far too conveniently.

Although I couldn’t put this story down, it doesn't have the quality ending I was hoping for. Shame. 3 out of 5.

Summing up Science Fantasy

Despite The Furies not ending quite as well as I hoped it would, I’m very pleased that the story is still fairly strong. The whole issue is generally good, with Rob Sproat’s Sule Skerry being a surprisingly memorable tale.

But is it as good as New Worlds this month? Let’s go to my second magazine to find out!

The Second Issue At Hand

Unlike Science Fantasy, it may not be too surprising to find that New Worlds has gone all out to celebrate the London Worldcon’s Guest of Honour this month. From the enthusiastic comment on the back cover to appreciations by Edmund Crispin and Peter White, most of this issue is about Brian Aldiss. There’s a review of Aldiss’s novel Non-Stop by Mike Moorcock – you know, the one that Brian has reviewed himself in this month’s Science Fantasy. Even when it is not, it includes material from his friends – Harry Harrison’s serialised novel Bill, the Galactic Hero continues with its second part under the title A Dip in the Swimming Pool Reactor.

This month’s editorial from Mike Moorcock is one of two halves. The first tells us how great Harry Harrison’s novel is (I’ll comment on that later) before going on to entice us with future attractions. The second part reminds us that we have a Worldcon in London in about one month’s time, which we should be excited about. (Have I said in the last few minutes that Brian will be Guest of Honour at this month’s Worldcon in London?)

To the stories!

Girl and Robot with Flowers, by Brian Aldiss

So we begin this Aldiss issue with an Aldiss story that at first might make new readers a bit puzzled. It’s set in modern times, reading as if it was in The Times Literary Supplement. The science-fictional element is that the story is of a writer who, after a time has decided to begin writing again. You see, the author writes science fiction! (Tenuous link initiated.) What begins as an initially cosy domestic tale slowly changes, as our writer talks through the story he is thinking of writing comparing it with the reality of the place he is at and the woman he is with. And bam – Brian’s got your attention again, sneaking in a science fiction story without the reader realising it. It’s a gently subversive tale, questioning the purpose of science fiction, and of writing it – and gets extra credit for adding a few sf names in as well (Ballard, Pohl, Moorcock, for example.) Better than last month’s Jungian effort. 4 out of 5.

Old Time’s Sake, by Brian Aldiss

The first Aldiss story is immediately followed by a second, different type of story. As the title might suggest, this is a story about the passage of time. Brian is a fan of HG Wells, and it shows in this story of Alec Sampson, the world’s first immortal man. Aldiss says that it is a story written in 1954, and was meant to be the first of a series which never materialised. It’s a story of loss and envy, cloaked in academia, as Alec meets his peers knowing that the next time his progress is reviewed, most if not all of these people will have died. I would’ve been interested to see where Aldiss would have gone with this, had he taken the story further. I enjoyed it, but it is clearly an early Aldiss. It is interesting reading the two stories together though, as they show how Brian has matured as a writer. 3 out of 5.

Illustration by Douthwaite

Traveller’s Rest, by David Masson

Time travel of a different type now, from this debut author. Traveller’s Rest is this month’s most challenging read. Our main character, Hadolaris, is fighting a permanent war against a never seen enemy. After his latest sortie he is ‘Relieved’ (retired) and moves to a civilian life southwards away from the Front. He settles down with a job as a sales manager, marries and has three children, only to be re-enlisted and back at the front-line at the end of the story.

There’s not a lot of plot. What makes this story unusual is the idea that the war messes with Time and as you travel south away from the war zone time seems to get slower, whereas as you travel north time appears to be faster. Though to Hadol he has been away from the war for twenty years, it is no more than about twenty minutes at the front.

Traveller's Rest is perhaps the densest story in this issue and took me a while to determine what was going on. This complexity is helped by the author’s invention of words throughout to illustrate the plot. There are also interesting little ideas throughout – speech changes as you travel North or South – names become shorter or longer the nearer you are to the Front, for example. I also got a feeling that the time distortion may affect the soldier’s perceptions. The descriptions of war at the front are almost dream-like.

Those who relish untangling the story, deciphering the complexities of language and wrestling with the key concept of time dilation will find this one interesting. An impressive debut, although one that gains credit for the ideas rather than the plot. 4 out of 5.

Bill, the Galactic Hero, Part 2: A Dip in the Swimming pool Reactor, by Harry Harrison

I’m not going to say much about this one, as like I said last month, you will either love it or be unimpressed by it. In this part, blasé Bill stumbles his way through the continuing war against the Chingers. He visits the Imperial planet Helior – a planet plated with gold – to get a medal, meets the Emperor (or someone like him) and goes on furlough. He has things stolen, which upon reporting to the police leads to poor old Bill getting into trouble himself. To solve his troubles he becomes a Garbage-Man (G-Man for short) but is then persuaded by the Opposition Party to become an Anarchist, before being arrested as a deserter. It’s busy life for Bill… still silly but I enjoyed this part more than the first part. 3 out of 5.

Illustration by James Cawthorn

The Pleasure Garden of Felipe Sagittarius, by James Colvin

In which the New Worlds Book Reviewer wanders into the weird world that Mike Moorcock seemed to inhabit in last month’s issue… except that James is really Mike Moorcock!

This has the manner of a detective story, but one from an alternate world. Minos Aquilinas, Metatemporal Investigator of Europe, is asked to investigate the murder of a man in the garden of Police Chief Bismarck in Berlin.

Set in what might be an alternate timeline somewhere between now and the 1920s, this story reminded me of Moorcock’s tale of Jeremiah Cornelius last month. It is fast-paced and determinedly anarchic. Whilst it tries to be provocative – Eva Braun, Adolf Hitler and Stalin all appear, although not as we would expect to see them – the fast pace and attempt to use well-known people in a different way is refreshing. This Hitler is a very different one to the one we all know.  Odd, but I liked it. 3 out of 5.

At the End of Days

And here’s this month’s effort from across the seas. Last month it was Mack Reynolds, this month Robert Silverberg, who I appreciate readers in the US will know pretty well as an up-and-coming young writer. End of Days is short, but works well in the space given to it. 140-years-old Thomas Narin watches people around him as the world is slowly dying. He is suddenly met by a young boy, Jorid Dayson, from Rigel-Six, who is impressed to meet someone from Earth. Earth has become almost mythical to Jorid and his young friends. It’s an elegiac tale that hints of a bright future ahead for the human race – just not on Earth. Though The End of Days covers a relatively common theme, the style is pleasantly lyrical. 3 out of 5.

Book Reviews, Articles and Letters

With all of this Aldiss-adulation (Aldissulation?), the reviews are shorter this month.

Edmund Crispin’s appreciation of Brian emphasises his ability to create visual images through prose. Peter White summarises Aldiss’s work to date and talks of his influence on British Sf today. Both articles are, as expected, pretty effervescent, although Mr. Crispin’s article, as you might expect from the author of the acclaimed Best Of… series of anthologies, is perhaps a more considered response.

Interestingly, Mr. White makes the claim that Brian’s best work to date is not science fiction, but The Male Response, a non-science fictional tale of sexual habits. I would disagree in that the book is not science fiction, as there are aspects that are science fictional – the rise of a future super-state in Africa, for example. I am sure readers will want to debate this further.

James Colvin (aka Mike Moorcock) reviews Aldiss’s Non-Stop, which makes interesting reading when compared with the author’s own review in Science Fantasy. Colvin’s review is unsurprisingly glowing. He then goes on to review in less detail Best SF Four, edited by fellow contributor this month, Edmund Crispin, and finds the story collection “only average in general standard.” By contrast, New Writings in SF Three, edited by John Carnell is “perhaps the best in the series so far.” Next, Colin Kapp’s The Dark Mind is reviewed with the suggestion that the author should spend more time on studying his craft before writing his next novel. Ouch!

The last review is a more detailed one of J G Ballard’s The Drought, which you may know in the US as The Burning World. It is typically enthusiastic: “The Drought is refreshing, original and an authentic creative work which, in its own terms, can only be emulated, one suspects, by Mr. Ballard himself.”

No “Dr. Peristyle” this month – perhaps we have enough Mr. Aldiss this month already! Instead, we’re back to the Letters pages, albeit very briefly. The first letter echoes the common theme of moving the genre forward and not looking back, whilst John Brunner himself replies with a correction to Langdon Jones’ review of his novel The Telepathist, back in issue 151, and there’s an effusive letter from Edward Mackin on E C Tubb’s The Life Buyer back in issue 150.

In terms of Ratings, the great surprise for me from issue 152 in July is how well Night of the Gyul was received. However,  Dikk Richardson’s last placing is what A Funny Thing Happened deserved, sadly.

 

Summing up New Worlds

It is always risky focussing an issue mainly on one writer. If readers are not a fan of the particular author, will they buy the issue? However, I think that it has worked this time around. This feels like a strong issue – all the more so when I think of how New Worlds was two years ago. Again, how much you like this issue will I think depend a little on your love of Bill, the Galactic Hero, but the other elements I personally enjoyed more.

There’s a lot of mischievous fun in this issue, as well as some well-deserved plaudits for one of Britain’s best writers at the moment. The Masson story is a startling debut, which despite its weaknesses reflects the impressive range possible in science fiction at the moment.

Summing up overall

It’s difficult to knock the Aldiss coverage this month, although I’m not sure that the stories given here are his best. The audacious debut by Masson surprises most. I also liked the E C Tubb story in Science Fantasy, whilst continuing to be less impressed than many by Harrison’s silliness. However, the slightly disappointing conclusion of The Furies and the impressive range of material in the Brian Aldiss issue means that for me, this month’s issue of quality is New Worlds.

And with all of this love of Aldiss shared around the genre, that’s it for this time. Anyone going to Worldcon, have a wonderful time. I look forward to hearing the stories!

Until the next…

[Don't miss the next episode of The Journey Show, featuring a panel of amazing artists who will be doodling to YOUR specification!]




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Magazine

[August 20, 1965] Look both ways (September 1965 Fantasy and Science Fiction)

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by Gideon Marcus

Quo vadis

Science fiction is changing, with no clearer evidence than the fact that our current era has been dubbed "The New Wave."  Indeed, there are those within fandom who assert that only what's coming out today has any relevance, and that there is little to enjoy in (and less to learn from) the "classics" of a half century or more ago.

Having grown up on Burroughs, Wells, Verne, and Baum, I can't agree with this position.  On the other hand, the role of the Journey, covering the newest SF as it comes out, means we tend to focus on the newer.

The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction makes no bones about having it both ways.  Not only will they occasionally reprint worthy material, they are also most often the clearing house for British New Wavers like Brian Aldiss and J.G. Ballard.  The
latest issue is particularly interesting in that the lead novella, by Brian Aldiss, is deliberately written in a Wellsean style (and, in fact, features the author of War of the Worlds to some degree).

Who says you can't learn from the classics?

There…


by Bert Tanner

The Saliva Tree, by Brian W. Aldiss

A flash in the sky followed by a splash, and a pond on a rural farm in East Mercia is now home to an extraterrestrial spaceship.  Young polymath Gregory Rolles is a Romantic in all senses of the word, and upon hearing the news, visits the fields owned by the Grendon family (which includes, of course, a fetching farmer's daughter).

At first, the alien visitors, who are completely invisible, seem harmless – even beneficial.  As Spring arrives, all of the animals in the area, from tadpoles to cattle, reproduce with prodigious fecundity.  Such bounty even extends to the human residents, Mrs. Grendon giving birth to some nine children at once.

But it is quickly ascertained that the newborn animals have an odd flavor to them rendering them inedible.  To humans, that is; the aliens take great delight in raiding their makeshift larder, biting into their prey with venomous fangs, liquefying the animal's insides, and slurping it out.  Only a dessicated skin is left.

And when the milk from the tainted cows starts to taste good to the Grendon family, Gregory realizes with horror that the humans are next on the menu…

It's all very evocative of the late Victorian age in style and subject, and in the end, is explicitly supposed to influence the work of young Wells, who is a penpal of Gregory's.  Aldiss carries it off well, this fun, occasionally horrific homage to yesteryear.

Four stars.


the latest comic piece from Gahan Wilson

Kearny's Last Case, by Ron Goulart

Less successful is Goulart's latest (last?) entry in the Max Kearny, Occult Detective, stories.  It's facile enough, this case of a secretary suffering an abusive workplace run by two sorcerers.  But while the setup is fun, the actual action of the story lasts about a page and a half and is resolved with little ado.  Most dissatisfying.

So, a low three stars.

The Great Cosmic Donut of Life, by Ray Nelson

Things slide further down in this Beat piece about a futuristic musician/computerist who unsuccessfuly tries to resurrect Charlie Parker's music electronically.  Things happen, there's a Martian terrier called a Globly, the story ends happily, but it's all inconsequential, unengaging fluff.

Two stars.

Lunar Landing, by Theodore L. Thomas

Thomas' "article" puts forward the desirability of sending pilots to the Moon on a one-way trip to truly determine the survivability of soft-landing.  This might have made sense (as a joke) thirty years ago.  The state of science has advanced since World War 2.

One star.

Hog-Belly Honey, by R. A. Lafferty

Joe Spade, rough and gutteral self-described intellectual, teams up with the more refined Maurice Maltrevers to produce a self-guiding Nullifier.  Said computer-brained machine can disintegrate anything it deeps as unnecessary.  What a great boon for society!  Garbage, useless files, out-of-date clothing, insincere love letters, all go POOF with a single request.  Of course, one person's trash is another person's treasure…and sometimes their spouse.

If this sounds whimsical, well, what did you expect given the author?  The most engaging part of Honey is the characterization of Joe, whose absolute doltishness is expressed to great comic effect in the unaware 1st person perspective.  This isn't a great story, but it is kind of fun.

Three stars.

Turning Point, by Arthur Porges

After The Bomb, rats take over the Earth.  Humanity is enslaved and our population kept at 10,000 to prevent a resurgence.  Malcontents in this new order are not destroyed; rather, we are merely sterilized and sent to the Amazon, a place the rats find uninhabitable.

All of this is offered up in exposition, like a mildly interesting encyclopedia article.  The "story" involves a few pages of dialogue, and the way in which a human couple heading into exile outsmarts the rats, transporting a fertile child to South America.

The solution is more "shocking" than clever, and the whole thing has the feel of a "ha ha; aliens are stoopud, humans r smart!" story of the kind Campbell enjoys at Analog.

Two stars.

Death in the Laboratory, by Isaac Asimov

For the first time in a while, Dr. A offers up a truly interesting and technical article about the discovery and isolation of fluorine.  After reading this, you may include scientists in the same derring-do category of folk as Doc Savage and Tarzan.

Five stars.

Sea Bright, by Hal R. Moore

Kellie is an 11-year old girl in love with the sea.  But her world is shattered when an acquaintance brings a sinister shell to the beach one day, and a sense of dread causes her to steal said conch before it can harm her friend.  The remainder of the story deals with her attempts to keep it out of the hands of others.

Sea, the first piece by Moore, starts promisingly and has some vivid writing.  I also appreciate the nonstandard protagonist.  However, it bogs down in repetition; if the second act had been a little different from the first, it would have helped.

Still, three stars.

…and back again

So, does this brew of past, present, and (cutting edge of) future mix well or does it resolve into an immiscible layer cake cocktail?  I'd say the former.  There are several pieces which don't quite work, and some besides that fail further, but I still found the issue satisfying.  In particular, Aldiss shows he can turn an antiquated style into an asset. 

Does the future hold more visions inspired by the past?  Only time will tell…

[Don't miss the next episode of The Journey Show, featuring a panel of amazing artists who will be doodling to YOUR specification!]




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Magazine, Science Fiction/Fantasy

[August 10, 1965] Binary Arithmetic (September 1965 Fantastic)

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by Victoria Silverwolf

Yin and Yang


An ancient Chinese representation of the topic I will discuss.

Up and down. Left and right. Hot and cold. Female and male. Good and evil.

There's a natural tendency for human beings to think in pairs of contrasting concepts, sometimes in opposition, sometimes complementing each other. Such dualities are useful, but are often greatly oversimplified, painting everything as black or white, and ignoring the many shades of gray between.

I thought about this, oddly enough, when I heard the news just yesterday that Singapore is no longer part of the nation of Malaysia, as it had been since winning full independence from the United Kingdom in 1963. Instead, it is now a sovereign nation.


Lee Kuan Yew, Prime Minister of Singapore, announces the city-state's new status at a press conference.

Political differences between the central Malaysian government and Singapore led to the split, as well as strife between persons of Malay ethnicity and the mostly ethic Chinese population of Singapore. It's not yet clear whether Malaysia kicked Singapore out, or if the city left of its own free will.

This division of one nation into two made me think about the way our minds see things as dyads. I even perceived recent hit songs as a pair of opposites.

For most of July, (I Can't Get No) Satisfaction by the Rolling Stones was at the top of the American music charts. It's a hard-driving tune, sure to grab your attention the first time you hear it.


And it's now my favorite rock 'n' roll song.

As if the gods of record stores and jukeboxes wanted to help me prove my theory of duality, the song that reached Number One in the USA this month could not be more different. Herman's Hermits have a smash on their hands with I'm Henry VIII, I Am, a comic music hall ditty that goes all the way back to 1910.


The success of this very silly song may foretell the end of the world.

New and old. Serious and funny. Good and bad. (OK, that last one is a matter of opinion.) Even when it comes to entertainment, things seem to exist as opposites, at least in our heads. The latest issue of Fantastic is no exception.

It's Two — Two — Two Magazines In One!

I trust the makers of Certs will forgive me for making fun of the well-known slogan from their TV commercials. It's appropriate for the revised version of Fantastic, which combines one new story with a quartet of reprints.


Art by the late Frank R. Paul.

That cover looks pretty old-fashioned, doesn't it? That's because it first appeared more than a quarter of a century ago, as the back cover of the very first issue of Fantastic Adventures, May 1939.


Look familiar?

The new publisher of Fantastic obviously intends to reuse as much material from the past as possible. Also dating back to the innocent days before World War Two is the following now-dated scientific explanation for why a Martian might look something like the being on the right. (The one on the left is a human, in case you were wondering.)


The redundancy in Item F makes me giggle.

Before this place becomes, as Tom Lehrer put it in Bright College Days, soggy with nostalgia, let's take a look at something hot off the presses.

Stardock, by Fritz Leiber

Starting off the issue is a new adventure of Fafhrd and the Gray Mouser, whom we've met many times before.


Illustrations by Gray Morrow. You can already tell that a lot is going to happen.

This time we're in Fafhrd's homeland, a place of snow and ice. A cryptic bit of doggerel leads our heroes to a chain of mountains. In search of a fabulous treasure, the ill-matched pair make their way, slowly and painfully, up a gigantic peak. Along for the fun is a large white feline, who becomes as important a member of the team as the giant Northerner and the diminutive Southerner.


They've already made a long, hard climb before they even begin to scale the highest mountain.

All kinds of challenges and mysteries stand in their way. The Gray Mouser has visions of a green, mask-like face, and Fafhrd experiences dreams of touching a woman he can't see. Two rivals are after the same treasure, and they have a pair of unusual companions. Most bizarre of all, gigantic invisible beasts, something like flying mantas, carry equally unseen enemies.


And what would a sword-and-sorcery yarn be without a monster to fight?

Eventually, the bold duo reach the top of the mountain, encounter the beings who live inside, and find out who led them there, and why.


A naked Gray Mouser and a dwarf who isn't naked.

Lieber's imagination runs wild here, and his writing is simply gorgeous. A lecture by Fafhrd, in which he describes each mountain in poetic language, is a thing of beauty. The trek up the ice-covered peak is described in exquisite, vivid detail. (I suggest reading this story while wrapped in a blanket and sipping hot cocoa.) There are enough fantasy elements for a full-length novel, and the plot has plenty of twists and turns to keep the reader's attention.

Five stars.

Sally, by Isaac Asimov

The rest of the magazine consists entirely of reprints. The first comes from the pen of the Good Doctor.  It first appeared in the May/June 1953 issue of the same publication.


Art by W. T. Mars. At least Ike got his name on the cover.

As you might expect, the story deals with robots, of a sort. In this case, we're talking about self-driving automobiles, with positronic motors that are also their brains. The narrator runs a sort of retirement home for these intelligent vehicles, once their owners have passed on. The cars have personalities, as far as their caretaker is concerned. The sedans are boys, and the convertibles are girls, including the title character.

An unscrupulous fellow, one of Asimov's few villains, tries to purchase the retired cars, so he can put their brains into different bodies. The idea is that he can then make a profit, selling old autos for new. The narrator, as horrified as he would be if the man was suggesting vivisection on people, refuses. The Bad Guy returns, using force this time to get his way. Let's just say that things don't work out for him.

There aren't a lot of surprises in the plot, unless you count the fact that the author's famous Three Laws of Robotics don't apply here. As usual for Doctor A, he writes clearly and efficiently.


Illustration by Emsh. All the illustrations for previously published stories are also reprints.

Automobile enthusiasts, among whom I cannot count myself, will probably get an extra kick out of this story. I thought it was worth reading, while waiting to have your vehicle fixed at the car shop.

Three stars.

"You'll Never Go Home Again", by Clifford D. Simak

This story first appeared in the July 1951 issue of Fantastic Adventures (not to be confused with Fantastic.) Flipping through the pages of the older magazine, I note that it still had the quotation marks around the title, but also had an exclamation point. (I worry about these things.)


Art by Robert Gibson Jones. The cover story has an exclamation mark also, as do several other pieces in the table of contents. I guess it was an exciting magazine.

A team of space explorers lands on a distant planet. It's made very clear, right from the start, that these folks are extremely careful when it comes to investigating a new world. The many scientists aboard the spaceship check out everything to make sure the place is safe, and there are soldiers to keep the peace.

A seemingly primitive humanoid alien shows up. A gizmo allows the alien and the humans to communicate, which is definitely a convenient plot device. The extraterrestrial offers the statement quoted in the title (without exclamation mark) not as a threat, but simply as a statement of fact.


Illustrations by Leo Summers.

The rest of the story deals with the explorers trying to figure out what the alien meant. It turns out to be something about the planet they hadn't considered.


A broken watch provides a clue.

In essence, this is an Astounding-style puzzle story, and not a very interesting example of one. Somebody like Hal Clement would have come up with a better solution to the mystery. By 1951, Simak was already an experienced pro, so it's written decently. However, there is none of the appreciation for the outdoors, or the affection for all living things, that we expect from him.

Two stars.

The Dark Room, by Theodore Sturgeon

We go back to Fantastic (not to be confused with Fantastic Adventures, or, for that matter, Fantastic Universe) and dig out a copy of the July-August 1953 issue for our next blast from the past.


Art by Rupert Conrad. The great Theodore Sturgeon is reduced to being one of others.

We begin with a married couple leaving a party. They're both devastated by what has just happened. You have to read between the lines a bit, but it becomes clear that the woman, for no reason she can explain, had sex with another man there.


Illustrations by Emsh.

After the couple breaks up, the man, still an emotional wreck, finds out that other people have done equally inexplicable things at parties held by the same wealthy host.


Looks like a nice party, doesn't it?

Some of these incidents are minor, as when a sweet, grandmotherly woman who writes innocent books for children comes up with an extremely dirty story. Some seem good, as when a man who knows nothing at all about music creates a hit song. Others are much more serious, even including murder. In each case, somebody did something completely out of character.


Maybe not so nice after all.

Launching his own investigation into the mystery, the betrayed husband sneaks into the rich man's home; in particular, to the dark room of the title. (This is itself an anomaly, as the room is decorated in an ultra-modern fashion, while the rest of the house is very conservative.) He discovers something strange and frightening, and learns an uncomfortable fact about himself.


The lady and the spider have more in common than first meets the eye.

This unique psychological fantasy, with more than a touch of horror, demonstrates Sturgeon's gift for creating memorable, three-dimensional characters. The premise is much more subtle than just the typical monster story you might expect when the giant spider shows up. It might even make you ponder your own personality, and what you would never do.

Four stars.

The Worm, by David H. Keller, M. D.

As Mister Peabody might have said to Sherman, it's time to jump into the WayBack machine, and visit the remote past. Come with me now to the year 1929, and the March issue of Amazing Stories.


Art by Frank R. Paul, of course.

An old guy lives alone, except for his dog, in a mill that hasn't been used in a long time. He hears an odd noise, similar to what the mill's grinding stones used to sound like, coming from beneath the basement. Pretty soon the source of the noise is obvious.


Illustration by Frank R. Paul, naturally.

The man makes a desperate effort to stop the bizarre creature from destroying his home and everything in it. Does he succeed? You'll have to read the story to find out.

I have to admit that I wasn't expecting much from a Gernsbackian, pre-Campbellian, bit of scientifiction from three-and-one-half decades ago. To my surprise, this chiller was pretty well written. There's even some sophisticated characterization, as when the man recites random bits of poetry to himself. It's a simple yarn, executed with some talent.

Three stars.

Half a Loaf is Better Than None

With extra pages, and the contrast between original fiction and reprints, I felt like I was getting two magazines for the price of one. The first part, with Leiber's fine new story, was worth four bits all by itself. The second part was a mixed bag. Sturgeon's story was very good, Simak's was a disappointment, and the others were OK, if nothing special. If you pick up a copy, I'd suggest taking a break and enjoying a cup of coffee after you read Stardock, so you'll be ready for some lesser works.


It would seem fitting to add some of this stuff to your java.

[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, Serial

[August 2, 1965] Expansion and Contraction (September 1965 IF)

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by David Levinson

It seems like the world gets a little smaller every day. Jet planes are gradually replacing larger propeller-driven planes in the passenger market, reducing the time it takes to get from one place to another. As they become more ubiquitous even the middle class may be able to travel like the jet set. Communications satellites are making it possible for news to spread faster, and we can even see some events on television as they happen on the other side of the world.

On the other hand, the world seems to be getting bigger, too. We hear constantly about remote places where this conflict or that independence is taking place. The wealth of human knowledge is growing so fast, it’s almost impossible to keep up. Growing, shrinking, let’s look at some things that have done one or the other lately.

A long shortcut

France and Italy are now closer. Not diplomatically, and it’s not conclusive proof of continental drift, but the time to travel between them has shrunk thanks to the opening of a tunnel underneath Mont Blanc. The two countries agreed on building the tunnel in 1949, but excavation didn’t begin until a full decade later, with a company from each country drilling from their own side. The excavations met on August 4th, 1962, with an axis variation of a mere 5 inches. The tunnel was inaugurated at a ceremony on July 16th, attended by French President Charles de Gaulle and Italian President Giuseppe Saragat, and opened to traffic three days later.

At 8,140 feet below the surface, the two-lane highway tunnel is the deepest operational tunnel in the world, and at 7.2 miles, it is also the longest highway tunnel, some three times longer than the previous record holder, the Honshu-Kyushu tunnel in Japan. The travel distance from France to Turin is now 30 miles shorter, and the distance to Milan is 60 miles shorter.


Presidents de Gaulle and Saragat in front of the Mont Blanc tunnel connecting Chamonix to Courmayeur during the official inauguration

Flash!

Kodak made a big splash when they introduced the Instamatic camera two years ago. Like the venerable Brownie, the Instamatic makes it easy for amateurs to take snapshots. There’s even a model with a built-in flashgun that takes so-called peanut bulbs. The problem with those is that bulbs have to be removed before you can take another shot with the flash, and they get very, very hot. Kodak, working together with Sylvania Electronics, has come up with a solution: the flashcube.

As the name suggests, it’s a cube with a mount that connects to the camera on the bottom, and four flashbulbs around the sides. Trigger the shutter, the flash goes off, the cube rotates 90° and it’s ready for another picture immediately. Plus, by the time you’ve taken the fourth picture, parts of the cube should be cool enough to touch, so you can replace it right away. This should mean lots more candid snaps and a lot less dragging everybody outside to squint into the sun at family gatherings. A big innovation in a very small package.


$100 is a little pricey, but there are less expensive models, and we are talking about a lifetime of memories

An electrifying performance

The folk world had their horizons expanded last week, perhaps to their dismay. Despite his bad boy antics off stage last year, Bob Dylan was the most eagerly anticipated act at this year’s Newport Folk Festival, but his performance was met with a chorus of boos. It seems young Mr. Dylan felt that Alan Lomax was rather condescending when introducing the Paul Butterfield Blues Band at a workshop on Saturday the 24th and decided he would play electric to prove to the organizers they couldn’t keep it out. He hastily assembled a band from a couple of members of the Butterfield Band and some others and spent Sunday afternoon rehearsing. The crowd was shocked at the sight of Dylan accompanied by an electric band, and the short set of “Maggie’s Farm”, “Like a Rolling Stone” and “Phantom Engineer” was met with both boos and cheers. MC Peter Yarrow (of Peter, Paul and Mary) dragged Dylan out for a quick acoustic encore of “Mr. Tambourine Man” and “It’s All Over Now, Baby Blue”. The crowd exploded and begged for another encore.

So why the booing? Ask three different people and you’ll get four different answers. Some say it was folkies mortally offended at the mere presence of electric instruments or a rock sound, others that fans were upset at the shortness of the set and the fact that the band used most of their allotted 15 minutes for tuning and switching instruments and/or poor sound quality. Some will tell you it was definitely the fans booing, others blame the press or even the organizers. We may never know the truth of the matter, but there’s no question that Bob Dylan has made another big impact on music.

Dylan with electric guitar and harmonica. Completely different from his usual acoustic guitar and harmonica. (Band not shown)

The Mysterious Doctor X

If you drop by your local library and take a look at the Sunday New York Times for July 25th (assuming they carry it and it has already come in) and flip to the list of best sellers, you’ll see a new title, Intern by Doctor X. It is, by all reports, a rather harrowing account of a young doctor’s period of interning at a hospital a few years ago, taken from his daily journal. The names, as Jack Webb would say, have been changed to protect the innocent, and the doctor has chosen a pseudonym to further protect confidentiality. “What has that got to do with science fiction,” you ask. Well, a little bird told me that Doctor X is in fact a reasonably well-known science fiction writer. Since he has good reasons for concealing his identity, I won’t give it away, but I will say that I once thought he was a pseudonym for Andre Norton and that his last name closely resembles a different medical profession mostly practiced by women.

Another hint: It’s not Murray Leinster or James White

It’s bigger, but is it better?

As promised last month, IF is now 32 pages longer, making it the same size as its bi-monthly sister publication Worlds of Tomorrow. Fred Pohl claimed that’s enough for two more novelettes, four or five short stories, a complete short novel, or an extra serial installment. How well did the editorial team make use of that extra room this month? Let’s take a look.


A deadly duel begins. Art by McKenna

Under Two Moons, by Frederik Pohl

We open in medias res in a seedy corner of Marsport. Secret agent Johan Gull is tied to a pillar in a room full of gunpowder as a beautiful woman sticks a lit matchcord in his mouth and then declares her love for him. After escaping, he goes for a shave and retrieves a jacket not his own, but which holds a key that lets him access headquarters behind the barber shop. A seemingly reasonable bit of spycraft, until he has to go for a shave every time he needs to go to a different department. He meets with .5, the head of the agency, who speaks only through his personal secretary. His new assignment is to go to Syrtis Major and investigate a couple of prospectors who claim to have been granted powers by beings from a flying saucer. Are the Black Hats behind it, or something more?

Aboard the submarine taking him to his destination, he once again meets the mysterious woman. She helps him escape from the submarine when it is sabotaged, and together they struggle through the Martian desert. They’re saved by the appearance of Tars Tarkas riding a thoat. It seems they’ve stumbled into Barsoomland, and Tars is a robot. Eventually, they make their way to Heliopolis. Further spy shenanigans take place, culminating in a big showdown in a casino.


I love you Meestah Gull. I expect you to die. Art by Wallace Wood

It’s quite the zany – at times bordering on insane – send-up of James Bond, more so the movies than the books. Gull is a drunk, a womanizer, and unbelievably stupid. Only a few hours pass between the first scene and the woman’s appearance on the submarine, yet he has no idea who she is, and she has to remind him several times throughout the story.

While it isn’t bad, the humor really isn’t to my taste. There’s a sort of overly arch cleverness to it that grates. Worse, the first thing we get with 32 extra pages is a 32 page story by the editor. Admittedly, Fred has a problem in that the best market for the kind of thing he writes is the trio of magazines he oversees, and I’m sure there’s a process for deciding whether or not to buy one of the boss’s stories, but it’s not a good look. It might have been better to wait a couple of months before running this one. The flying saucer aspects of the story probably also prompted the longish editorial. Three stars, at the low end for me, maybe higher for you.

Moon Duel, by Fritz Leiber

On the rim of Gioja crater, the unnamed narrator and his partner Pete are setting up a miniradar when Pete is killed by a sniper on the other side of the crater. The killer is a “crusoe”, one the many aliens marooned on Earth’s moon, all of whom fight and kill each other and the growing number of humans for the scarce resources that allow them to survive. The narrator manages to get off a few quick shots and a mayday signal. What follows is a deadly game of cat and mouse for the hours it will take for help to arrive. But at one point the antagonists begin an attempt at communication.

This is a very atypical story for Fritz Leiber. Even though I tend to think of him primarily as a writer of fantasy and horror, he’s no stranger to science fiction. “A Pail of Air” is one of my favorite stories. But the science comes on very strongly here, often shouldering aside character, which is Leiber’s real strength. It’s also shoehorned in at times, such as the clumsy footnote about the muzzle velocity of the narrator’s weapon. The climax also shares a factor with the rather poor Men of Good Will by Ben Bova and Myron R. Lewis, although Leiber is far more scientifically rigorous. Still, I’m not sure Leiber can write a bad sentence, and there is some genuine tension. To be honest, I probably would have liked this more if someone else’s name had been on it and I’d come in with a different set of expectations. Three stars.

The Planet Player, by E. Clayton McCarty

Archaeologist Charles Maxwell has joined the expedition to planet S-60 to investigate signs of a lost civilization. He gets off to a poor start with Litzanov, the expedition’s director. The director is a prickly authoritarian, who as it turns out is completely tone deaf and greatly annoyed by “sound in a measured tempo”. Maxwell, on the other hand, had dreams of being a concert pianist, has brought his guitar along, and reacts badly to being pushed around. Early in the journey, a stowaway is discovered, a fifteen-year-old deaf-mute known to the crew as Binky, the son of an early space scout. Bothered by the way the crew handles the boy, Maxwell takes him under his wing.

When they arrive at the planet, Litzanov proves to be a glory-hound. All photographic and video records are carefully rehearsed and staged to put him front and center, depicted as a wise man of science. The team also discovers massive structures made of a crystalline material which resonates to slight touches, though not to hard blows. At the heart of the alien complex, they find a theater with the remains of the dead in every seat. Spot checks all around the world find evidence that every single inhabitant of the planet died at the same instant, utterly without warning. The team probes the mystery, and as we are warned at the beginning, not everyone will survive.

Talk about a dead audience. Art by David A. Kyle

What a beautiful story. It’s not without its flaws; the reader figures out what destroyed this civilization and what is going to happen to the expedition fairly quickly, and the rather quick and easy decoding of the written language is highly improbable. But that all gets washed away by the ending, especially the final paragraph. This is McCarty’s second story. His first, Small One, was overly long and lacked subtlety, though Gideon rather liked it. This one however is excellent. A solid four stars.

M’Lord Is the Shepherd, by Leigh Richmond and Walt Richmond

From Moonbase One, M’Lord oversees the development of the people of Alterra. Although they are 50,000 to 100,000 years from being ready to be contacted by the Galactics, M'Lord has received orders to get them to that stage within 200. The Korm’aans are predicted to sweep through that spiral arm of the galaxy and the Galactics need an ally. That sort of forced stimulation usually destroys those subjected to it, but while a weak ally is preferable, a planet that can be used without interference from a native race is acceptable.

M’Lord decides that electric current is the ideal way to carry out his orders. First, he introduces the battery. After 75 years have passed, he sends his chief teslar down to the planet to get them to use 60 cycle alternating current. The results are astonishing. After only a few decades, the Alterrans are reclassified from “Sheep” to “Predator”. In fact, they represent a greater threat than Korm’aan. The solution is to fill the atmosphere with ultra-high frequency, ultra-short wave broadcasts. This attempt fails and he is ordered to apply hypnotic stupidifiers. This too fails, and the Alterrans are predicted to take over the galaxy within 500 years. The Galactics and Korm’aans have made common cause, and M’Lord must now act as ambassador and plead for no retribution.

Great Ghu, the Richmonds have escaped from Analog! The whole thing is ridiculously obvious, with the possible exception of the teslar. Unless you’ve read up on the early days of electricity, remember some of the articles Hugo Gernsback wrote back in the 1910s and 1920s, or have some reason to measure magnetic flux, you’ve likely not heard of Nikola Tesla. In any case, the question is why Campbell didn’t want this one. I mean, it has humans as the biggest, meanest, fiercest thing the galaxy has ever seen. Maybe he was put off by the scientific advancement of the last century or so coming from aliens rather than the natural superiority of northwestern Europeans. I should also note that it was only during the writing of this review that I realized the M’Lord is not a contraction such as one would use to address an English judge, but rather an alien name with obligatory apostrophe. A very low 2 stars.

Giant Killer, by Keith Laumer

On the planet Rockamorra, the CDT mission under Ambassador Splitwhistle is about to become the first formally credentialed embassy on the planet – a veritable coup over the Groaci – when Retief arrives late and tries to persuade the ambassador not to go through with it. He fails, but Splitwhistle really should have listened. It seems he has committed himself and his people (except Retief, who refused to go through the ceremony) to slaying a dragon. After the ambassador gets everybody thrown in jail by refusing to carry out his duly appointed task, it’s up to Retief, with a slight assist from Ben Magnan, to save the day.


The ambassador is supposed to kill it with a sword. Retief has a different plan. Art by Gaughan

I said last month that Retief’s shtick is getting stale. All the usual beats are here: the mission gets in trouble because no one listens to Retief, Retief enlists the aid of a slick talking local, Ben Magnan blunders about and accidentally helps, Retief saves the day. The only thing missing is a pulchritudinous female to offer her affections as a reward. Laumer seems to just be going through the motions in order to turn out one of these every month. I suppose it’s an easy, guaranteed sale. We’re promised the start of a Retief novel next month. We’ll see if the extra room for development of plot and character is a good thing or not. A low three stars, but probably a firm three if you’re new to the series.

Alien Artifact, by Dannie Plachta

A billion miles beyond the orbit of Pluto, the patrol ship Solar Sea picks up a large object on radar. It proves to be a giant ship, the alien artifact of the title. The crew explores and makes a shocking discovery.

Dannie Plachta is this month’s new writer. This short tale is afflicted with the desire for a Twilight Zone shock ending. While not a poor representative of the form, it’s not all that shocking either. And even at 2 and a half pages, the story is a bit long for what’s in it. On the other hand, it’s a decent freshman effort. I vacillated between two and three stars. The writing isn’t bad, and I wouldn’t immediately roll my eyes on seeing Plachta’s name again in the table of contents. Plus, it’s short. So, three stars, I guess.

Gree’s Damned Ones, by C. C. MacApp

Steve Duke has been infiltrated into a Gree punishment detail. The others aboard the transport have sinned against Gree, but are being given a chance to redeem themselves. Steve is here to find out why Gree and its slaves are showing great interest in a planet near the center of the galaxy.

Placed in charge of a large unit, Steve is ordered to make his way to an enormous cliff in some distant mountains and find a way to report back. The first night out, he finally activates the device that will give him his orders from the Birds of Effogus. Unfortunately, he left the device containing the means to let the Birds know exactly where he is so they can null in back in camp. He’ll just have to complete his mission and get back.

After a long and dangerous journey, Steve’s group meets up with another, under the leadership of Fazool, the B’Lant Steve befriended and betrayed in the first Gree story. Fortunately, Fazool was brain-burned and doesn’t recognize Steve, though in moments of distraction he does call him Jen. Ultimately, the two of them are the only ones to penetrate to the final mystery of the planet.


Steve and one of the B’Lants under his command encounter some dangerous plant life. Art by Giunta

I’m getting tired of these Gree stories. After a couple of dismal outings, the last couple have been better, but it’s time for MacApp to wrap this saga up. This one offers some interesting mysteries, and most of it is taken up by a sort of Arthur C. Clarke travelogue melded with a pulp jungle adventure. The end is rather perfunctory and raises as many questions as it answers, while seeming to move the war against Gree at least to the end of the mid-game. Still, it’s readable for the most part. A low three stars.

Skylark DuQuesne (Part 4 of 5), by E. E. Smith

The revolution on Ray-See-Nee in the Chloran galaxy is a success, but the locals whom Dick Seaton has put in power are worried about their first report back to the Chloran headquarters. The daily report shouldn’t be a problem, but the change in government will be closely scrutinized, and the reporter will likely die or have his mind shattered and will certainly give the game away. Fortunately, Seaton once went frontal lobe to frontal lobe against the Supreme Great One of the Chlorans and won. (Ignore the fact that that was halfway across the universe. Chlorans are Chlorans everywhere.) So Seaton makes the call and successfully dupes the bad guys. That taken care of, the Skylarkers head off to more familiar regions to repair the Valeron and come up with a way to improve coordination and reaction times on a planet-sized vessel.

Cut to the Jelmi. After some friendly political maneuvering, Mergon is now in charge. He picks out an uninhabited Tellus-type planet, and the Jelmi set about created an armed and well-defended base. Contact is made with the Llurdi, and after the Jelmi demand independence, the Llurdi throw everything they have at their former slaves. Holding out by the skin of their teeth, the Jelmi then contact the Llurdi, give them the teleporter, and restate their desire to live in peaceful independence. Being supremely logical, the Llurdi agree.

Meanwhile, repairs to the Valeron are complete, but Seaton is extremely fidgety. He only calms down once they start heading back to their new friends in the Chloran galaxy. It seems the woman who aided him in the revolution and her mother are witches, and they put a spell on him to summon him back. The new government is trying to weed out corruption, but are facing a lot of resistance from corrupt elements that are left over and new corrupt elements who want a piece of the graft. There’s a big shoot-out and the problem is resolved.

The Fenachrone are withering in Llurdi captivity. On his deathbed, their leader sends out a mental distress signal and makes contact with DuQuesne. The latter offers to help them and teleports their leader and a couple of others to his ship. He then heads for the Llurdi galaxy, as are the Skylarkers, who have figured out how DuQuesne tricked them and where the Jelmi must have come from. The leader of the Llurdi detects the Valeron (the DQ is shielded to the point of invisibility) and sends out a powerful mental probe. The Skylarkers read the probe as an attack and throw up their shields. The Llurdi decide they must attack and so throw everything at the Valeron. Seaton counterattacks and as the two forces are nearing mutual destruction, Seaton is mentally contacted by Mergon of the Jelmi. To be concluded.


Dick Seaton takes a call. Art by Morrow

Only one more installment to go. I must admit there is a certain crude vigor here that… well, it hasn’t grown on me, but I’m less offended by it than I was. It still doesn’t make a lot of sense, it’s still badly plotted, Smith still starts paragraphs with “wherefore”, but I guess I can see the nostalgic appeal if you first read Smith at an impressionable and less discerning age. Two stars.

Summing up

Before wrapping this up, let’s talk about the art. At least since I took on reviewing IF the interior art has been provided by a steady stable of four: Gray Morrow, Norman Nodel, Jack Gaughan and John Giunta. For me, Morrow is far and away the best of them, but he’s been tied up with Skylark for four issues now. I’m also not a big fan of Nodel’s smudgy look or Gaughan’s abstract elements. Still, all four are good, but there’s been a lack of freshness. This month saw two new additions. Wally Wood, of course, is primarily a comic artist (and former studio partner of Harry Harrison), but he’s done some illo work for IF’s sister publications, although we haven’t seen him for a couple of years. David Kyle is a long-time fan (he’s the man who got his fellow Futurians banned from the first Worldcon), occasional artist and rarely author. While there’s really nothing stylistically all that different, both artists have injected enough of a difference to seem fresh.

So, has IF made good use of its expanded space? It’s hard to say. Skylark DuQuesne continues to weigh the magazine down, and I think we’ll have to wait a couple of months to see what Fred Pohl does once it’s gone. As I noted above, no matter what you might think of the story, running a piece written by the editor which is exactly as long as number of new pages is not really the best way to start. On the other hand, we have eight titles this month, which increases the chances of there being something for everybody. And next month, Pohl is trying out another innovation. As one serial ends, we’ll also start another. If the typical serial is three parts, that’s an increase from four a year to six. That also raises the chances of more good work. Only time will tell.




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Magazine, Serial

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

2 Comments


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?

(come join us in Portal 55, Galactic Journey's virtual lounge!)




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Magazine, Science Fiction/Fantasy, Serial

[July 28, 1965] Aldiss, Harrison, and Roberts, Inc. (August 1965 Science Fantasy and New Worlds)

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by Mark Yon

Scenes from England

Hello again!

As Summer draws on, we seem to have got into a somewhat lethargic routine here in Britain. Is it the weather, or is that we are saving our energy for the Worldcon at the end of next month?

As per usual, the issue that arrived first in the post this month was Science Fantasy..

And we have another Keith Roberts’ cover, this month back to the weird style of the January-June covers. I must be getting used to them – this one’s OK. The light tones reflect the golden Summer us Brits are known to get every year… or perhaps not.

The Editorial this month takes up that idea mentioned a few times by Kyril in previous months. It talks of the 1930's origins of sf before going on to say that sf must evolve from what it was. Like our reading habits change as we grow older and become more mature, so must the genre. As per usual, it is well argued and explained, but nothing that different to what we’ve read recently. It also echoes Mike Moorcock’s rallying call in last month’s New Worlds.

To the stories themselves.

The Desolator, by Eric C. Williams

The first story this month (title on the cover being “The Desolators”, title on the story being the singular) is a Time Travel tale, from an author we last saw in last month’s New Worlds with The Silent Ship.

John Prince is a thief, but one who travels into the past and the future to loot what he needs. On his trail are the Time Police, determined to catch those who profit from other’s work. It’s a nice idea, though one that is pretty much the whole point of the story. There’s a twist in the tale at the end which seemed a little throw-away to me. In summary, it’s OK, but not the best time travel story ever written, nor the best start to an issue of Science Fantasy. 3 out of 5.

Chemotopia, by Ernest Hill

Sometimes the title tells you exactly what the story is going to be. So – Chemicals…drugs… you get the idea. Chemotopia gives us an idea of how crime and punishment could be dealt with in a future society dependent on drugs. Crimes are dealt with on the principle that punishment as vengeance for crimes is outmoded and is being replaced with rehabilitation, chemical usage and reintegration. When a trio of unruly teenagers are arrested for damaging property and injuring people, the view of the older police of what punishment should be utilised is at odds with the modern-day approach. We then go through a number of procedures, involving drugs, to mollify the delinquents. The ending is rather jarring, involving a doctor and a nurse whose attraction may, or may not, be influenced by drugs. It reads like a simpler, less intelligent version of Anthony Burgess’s Clockwork Orange. 2 out of 5.

Idiot’s Lantern, by Keith Roberts

A story from a promising new writer….. well, no.

Another Keith Roberts story, making his grand total of pages in this issue a mere 84 out of 130 pages. But this is another Anita story, the teenage witch who has wound her way through this magazine over the past couple of years. The Idiot’s Lantern of the title is what some call television, and the story is about what Anita and her Granny make of this innovation of the modern age. When they have a television fitted to the cottage, Anita and Granny Thompson become obsessed, to the point that they apply and become contestants on a quiz show recorded in London. Unsurprisingly this causes problems as they go to the big city.

Like all Anita stories, this one might divide opinion, although they are popular. For me it depends on how much Anita’s mentor Granny Thompson appears, as generally the more she’s there, the less I like the story. This story has considerable Granny Thompson presence, but I found it tolerable, though I get the impression that these stories are running out of steam a little. It’s lightly humorous – for some. 3 out of 5.

Paradise for A Punter, by Clifford C. Reed

The title of this one might need a little explaining to non-Anglophiles in that a ‘punter’ is a gambler, someone willing to take a risk. It is important to know that as the story is of Mr. Rogers who seems to be offered a risk he cannot afford to miss, although there’s the inevitable twist in the story expected. A fair Twilight Zone type story.  3 out of 5.

A Way With Animals, by John Rackham

The return of John Rackham, last seen in the March 1965 issue. This is one of John’s more superficial stories about a man who reluctantly takes on responsibility for a pet dragon. Chaos ensues. It’s pretty much what’s expected. I’m tempted to call it a shaggy dog type of story… except it’s about a dragon. 3 out of 5.

Grinnel, by Dikk Richardson

Richardson’s short story in last month’s New Worlds had the dubious honour of getting my first one-star summary. I was hoping that this would be better. It’s not but it is memorable, even if it is not in a good way – a meaningless snippet of a story about a man who seems to drive others insane by repeating the word “Grinnel”. At two pages, at least the story’s not long, but still probably too long. 2 out of 5.

The Furies (Part 2 of 3), by Keith Roberts

You might have noticed that I did enjoy most of Keith’s first part last month. I was interested to see whether his story of giant wasps could maintain the pace of the first part.

Last issue we were left with the cliff-hanger that Bill Sampson and his young friend Jane had made a dash to the coast in order to try and escape the giant wasps and leave the country. Jane had been put upon a boat to France, whilst Bill had returned to England and was grabbed by a group of adults who seemed to be working with a wasp….

So, in this part we widen our perspective and are introduced to a motley crew of various refugees. Bill and his new group are being herded by the wasps to an old Army camp and kept there in order to collect supplies and work for the wasps. The humans seem to adapt to this, although this may be perhaps in some sort of collective shock. Bill and others from his hut in the barracks escape and hide out in caves near Shepton Mallet. They begin to fight back, targeting camps and wasp nests, with varying degrees of success. It ends on another cliff-hanger as Bill tries again to get to the coast to find Jane.

Often in the middle of a story the pace can slow a little. This is not the case here. However, although it might sound like it, this second part is not some boy’s adventure tale, either. It is quite dark with some of the characters clearly traumatised from their experiences, something which Roberts is not afraid to show. There are some shocking moments. 4 out of 5.

Summing up Science Fantasy

Well, we’ve certainly got a range of stories in Science Fantasy this month – time travel, drugs, dragons and giant wasps! However, what we gain in breadth we seem to lack in depth as the other stories are a bit pedestrian, frankly. After a wobbly start, the issue improves as it goes along. I’m pleased that The Furies has managed to keep the momentum of last month’s story going, and I am really looking forward to its conclusion next month.

Let’s go to my second magazine.

The Second Issue At Hand

This month’s editorial from Mike Moorcock is one of two halves. The first tells us how great Harry Harrison’s novel is (I’ll comment on that later) before going on to entice us with future attractions. The second part reminds us that we have a Worldcon in London in about one month’s time, which we should be excited about. (Have I said in the last few minutes that Brian will be Guest of Honour at next month’s Worldcon in London?)

We also have the appearance of “Dr. Peristyle” (who is rumoured to be a certain Mr. Aldiss), who will alternate with the Letters Pages in the next few months. His somewhat unique and unusual responses have been great fun in the British Science Fiction Association journal Vector, and I look forward to reading more of them here.

To the stories!

Bill, the Galactic Hero, Part 1, by Harry Harrison

This one, the first of three parts, is heralded with a bit of a flourish. You may have noticed that the front cover of this month’s issue proclaims it as “Harry Harrison’s finest novel”, although to be fair he’s only had three published to date, with similar themes – Planet of the Damned, Deathworld and its sequel Deathworld 2.

Perhaps unsurprisingly, this novel has been commended by Harry’s friend and co-author, Brian Aldiss! (Have I said in the last few minutes that Brian will be Guest of Honour at next month’s Worldcon in London?)

Illustration by Harry Harrison

The bad news is that it is a parody, something that in my experience splits the readership. Some will be impressed by how wittily the author and his prose cocks a snook at the establishment, whilst others will just not find it funny and even rather silly.

Guess which reader I am?

It may be a generational thing. If I was aged twenty-something, I might be amused by the naming of characters such as recruiting 'Sergeant Grue' or 'Petty Chief Officer Deathwish Drang' that good-intentioned Bill encounters as he bumbles his way through military training and active service against the alien Chinger. If I had undertaken National Service, I might be impressed by how the tale repeats real-life tales of bureaucracy and incompetence, amplified to a supersonic level.

But I did not, and as a result it just seems rather silly, and too forced to be funny. I can see what it is trying to do and was a little amused by the jabs at the old guard, but in the end I found it rather monotone and rather relentless. Whilst it did make me think of Robert Heinlein’s Starship Troopers in a new light, I don’t think J G Ballard has much competition here, or even Robert Sheckley! But I did like Harry’s own illustrations. 3 out of 5.

Illustration by Harry Harrison

[This novel appears to be an expansion of The Starsloggers, which appeared in Galaxy last year. I liked it more than Mark, giving it 5 stars, but perhaps it loses something in the lengthening. (Ed.)]

The Source, by Brian Aldiss

Speaking of Harry’s friend…. According to the banner at the top of the story, The Source is an attempt to write a science fiction story based on Jung, which probably would’ve worked more for me had I more than a fleeting knowledge of the philosopher’s ideas. However, from what I've read here this seems to involve sex, nakedness and your mother, in various dream-like states. As this is an sf magazine, though, we have all of that bolted on to a notional science fiction idea of aliens visiting Earth and trying to determine what they see. Not one of Brian’s best, but I was a little hamstrung here by my limited knowledge of philosophers. 2 out of 5.

And Worlds Renewed, by George Collyn

The reappearance of George after his book reviews last month. This story seems to show the sinuous relationship between decadence and art, for in this future culture and artistic reputation can be determined by the work of an artist on a planet sized scale. Nefo Seteri is commissioned to complete a commission on Rigel XXII by a man-with-more-money-than-sense, Junter Firmole. The project is completed by Seteri in secret, until the grand unveiling, which is the surprise ending. It’s really a one-idea story, with lots of description about Seteri’s process, leading to the conclusion, the ultimate in narcissistic planet-shaping. I did wonder how one would go about keeping some art this big a secret. 3 out of 5.

The Pulse of Time, by W. T. Webb

A weird but short story of a prominent heart surgeon who is offered a job by a mysterious benefactor. When they meet, the surgeon is shown what I will describe as a life-clock, running by being connected to a living heart. Where the heart that powers the clock comes from is the big reveal at the end. 3 out of 5.

By The Same Door, by Mack Reynolds

Another attempt by Moorcock to sneak an American author into this British magazine? (Mind you, it has worked for Vernor Vinge from a couple of issues ago, who, as you will see later, did very well in that issue’s ratings.)

However, this one's not great. This is a story about an unpleasant man, Mr. Bowlen, who insists on Alternatives Inc. honouring its promise to customers of being able to put someone in any world they want. Bowlen demands to be sent to a place where some “secret perversion” that he has read about takes place. The difficulty for the company is that he never found out what the secret perversion was, exactly. And neither do we, in this story that sputters out to no real resolution. 2 out of 5.

Preliminary Data, by Mike Moorcock

I’m amazed that the editor has time to write as well these days, but here’s a Jerry Cornelius story that combines the action of The Avengers TV series with modern cultural references and religion. It is difficult to describe, but involves stylishly trendy modern icon Jeremiah Cornelius and his wife Maj-Britt appearing to be kidnapped by Miss Brunner and taken to Finland. In actual fact, they have had nothing of the sort happen and are actually involved in creating some sort of god-like superhuman.

This is one of those stories where everything seems to have been thrown in. There's some meanderings on the cyclical nature of cosmology and religion, combined with contemporary cultural references and the perhaps inevitable psychedelic dream sequences. It should be a combination I dislike, but I was impressed by the fast-pace and enthusiasm of it all. Rather odd, but I liked it. 3 out of 5.

Songflower, by Kenneth Hoare

The title gives this one away, a minor tale of what happens to sailors – sorry, spacemen – when they call into port. In this case, they spend time in bars with aliens and then get fleeced by local traders with an alien singing plant. 3 out of 5.

Book Reviews, Articles and Dr. Peristyle

In the reviews this month James Colvin (aka Mike Moorcock – how does he manage the time?) evaluates H L Gold’s story collection The Old Die Rich and the “undemanding” fourth volume in the New Writings in SF series edited by John Carnell.

New name Ron Bennett reviews The Joyous Invasions by Theodore Sturgeon in some detail. Hilary Bailey (aka Mrs. Moorcock) reviews The Screaming Face by John Lymington, The Thirst Quenchers by Rick Raphael and the ‘frightening’ Paper Dolls by L. P. Davies.

So to Dr. Peristyle. This perhaps has to be read, rather than described:

As you can see from the extract above, here the not-so-good Doctor answers, in his acerbic style, questions asked by readers. It’s all in good-humour and a little silly, but it made me smile.

In terms of Ratings, no great surprises for issue 151 from June.

But as I mentioned earlier, hasn't Vernor done well? I expect to see more American authors in the future.

Summing up New Worlds

How much you like this issue will depend on how much you like Bill, the Galactic Hero. It dominates the issue in terms of pages, although there is a little variety in terms of the shorter stories. I liked the Moorcock, which I was surprised to find that I liked more than his other material of late, and would happily read more of the free-wheeling, asexual, anti-hero Jerry Cornelius in the future.

The message is clear, though – this ‘new’ New Worlds is not afraid to make fun of what has come before it, as it sets off to blaze a new trail. It’s edgy and a little cynical, although at the same time rather British in its gentle manner of knocking down precious icons of the science fiction world.

Summing up overall

Both issues have their strengths and weakness this month. However, the continued excellence of The Furies means that this month’s best issue for me is Science Fantasy.

And that’s it for this time. I'm off to get more British sun!

A snapshot of Margate this summer.

(Or perhaps not.)

Until the next…

(come join us in Portal 55, Galactic Journey's virtual lounge!)



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Magazine, Science Fiction/Fantasy, Serial

[July 18, 1965] The Prodigal Returneth (September 1965 Worlds of Tomorrow)

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by Victoria Silverwolf

It's Great To Be Back

Those of you who keep track of minutiae may have noticed that I haven't been around these parts for a while. Blame it on seismic changes in the world of magazine publishing. To wit, the fact that Fantastic will now be published bimonthly removed that magazine from the newsstands for a couple of months, in order to have it alternate with sister publication Amazing. I had to wait until the latest issue of Worlds of Tomorrow arrived on my doorstep before I could get back to the typewriter and churn out a review. Let's get started, shall we?

Absence Makes The Heart Grow Fonder


Cover art by George Schelling, illustrating a macabre scene from Fritz Leiber's story

Maybe it's only because I haven't done this for a while, but I look forward to analyzing this issue with more enthusiasm than usual. Let's see if I retain my critical passion as we make our way through the crisp white pages of the youngest member of Frederik Pohl's family of publications.

Catch a Tartar, by Gordon R. Dickson

The hero of this lighthearted romp through the cosmos is one Hank Shallo, a jolly giant of a man, fond of beer and singing. When he's not belting out a tune or quaffing a brew, he works as a deep space scout, seeking out new planets for humanity. The woman who gives him his assignments is a certain Janifa Williams, a statuesque blonde who would like him to settle down on Earth with her.


Illustrations by Norman Nodel. This is not Janifa, by the way, but a no-nonsense physician who treats our hero for a hangover.

Janifa arranges to meet Hank on a colony world with a serious problem. It seems that the computer that controls the planet's environment, so people can live there, thinks it's a god. It demands a human sacrifice before it will go back to work. Hank is the lucky fellow who's supposed to be offered up to the mechanical deity. There's an escape plan, but Hank has a scheme of his own.


Hank arrives.

Complicating matters is the presence of the guy who created the computer, a mad genius who is in love with Janifa. Hank has to figure out a way to defeat the computer, save Janifa from the unwelcome advances of the scientist, and retain his happy-go-lucky lifestyle.


The madman, Janifa, and a few of her many admirers.

Hank is a likable rogue and something of a con artist, as he uses his wits to get the better of everyone. I found the story to be more enjoyable than most attempts at science fiction comedy, which tend to be full of sophomoric slapstick. The female characters are decorative, to be sure, but also intelligent, competent, and professional. It's not the most profound tale in the world, but worth reading.

An amused three stars.

The Light Outside, by C. C. MacApp

This strange little story consists of a series of messages, ranging from prayers to scholarly articles, over a very long period of time. (That's true in one sense, but not in another. Confused? That's how I felt when I started reading.) We eventually figure out that the beings responsible for these writings live at a much faster pace than those who are observing them, known as the Watchers. At the end we learn something more about the Watchers, and those who are watched.

The narrative structure tends to have a cold, distant feeling to it, so it's hard to connect with the story on an emotional level. On the other hand, the premise is original and interesting.

An intrigued three stars.

The Tinplate Teleologist, by Arthur Sellings


Illustration by Brock. I have been unable to find out anything about this artist, not even his or her full name.

Davie — more formally, DA 38341 — is an obsolete household robot, kicked out of his home when a more advanced model takes his place. He has a limited amount of time to find somebody to purchase him, at a price hardly anybody is willing to pay for an old machine. If he fails, he goes back to the factory to be turned into scrap metal.

The episodic plot follows Davie as he meets a sympathetic but powerless dealer in used robots, a bitter robot who plans to rob a human being, the elderly inhabitants of a retirement community who welcome his help, but can't afford to pay for him, and an impoverished painter who finally gives him the opportunity to save himself from the junkyard.

This sentimental yarn feels like a science fiction fairy tale. Davie is one of those meek, gentle characters who overcome all obstacles with quiet bravery. Mix a little Asimov with a little Bradbury and you might have something like this slick tearjerker.

A wistful three stars.

Theories Wanted, by Robert S. Richardson

The author presents various astronomical mysteries, offers hypothetical solutions, and suggests that amateurs might be able to help professionals figure things out.

I had to let out a weary sigh when the article began with the hoary old chestnut of trying to account for the Star of Bethlehem in scientific terms. To nobody's surprise, Richardson thinks a nova is the most plausible explanation, if any is needed. (I guess he's read Arthur C. Clarke's decade-old story The Star.)

I was more interested in the peculiar star Mira Ceti, which varies in brightness in irregular ways. It also has a much fainter companion star, difficult to observe, which presents a similar enigma. I would have preferred an entire article about Mira Ceti.

Other subjects include the Trojan asteroids, which occupy a stable point in Jupiter's orbit, and a comet known as P/1925 II. Like a smorgasbord, there are several items to choose from, and not all of them are tasty.

A highly variable three stars.

At the Institute, by Norman Kagan


Illustrations by Gray Morrow

This razor-sharp satire takes the narrator through the halls of a research institute full of eccentric scientists involved in outrageous projects. We get our first hint of how wild things are going to get when he has to ride a tank (see above) through a ring of solid uranium to get into the place. After encountering a number of researchers working on experiments as bizarre as anything found in Jonathan Swift's Balnibarbi and Laputa, he meets the director of the place.


The infantile director and the narrator, facing the institute's defense system. Please excuse the way I had to fold the magazine to show you the whole picture.

Although the narrator seems at first to be the voice of sanity, exposing the madness of so-called pure research, it turns out that his own more practical studies are equally insane. The author casts a jaundiced eye at all aspects of science and government.

The story moves at a breakneck pace, with jokes, puns, paradoxes, and lampoons of human foibles in nearly every sentence. The tone reminds me of the recent novel Catch-22 by Joseph Heller, in the way it mixes surreal comedy with a dark view of humanity's tendency to destroy itself.

A sardonic four stars.

Cyclops, by Fritz Leiber

Three astronauts set out on a journey to investigate why an interstellar vessel, under construction in orbit around the Moon, is out of communication with Earth. Similar problems in the past turned out to be minor, so the spacemen aren't too worried. During the voyage, they discuss the possibility of life existing in empty space. Since one of the astronauts is psychic, it's not a big surprise that their speculations turn out to be all too real.

Although the plot is predictable, this is an effective science fiction horror story, full of striking images. As you'd expect from Leiber, it's very well written. A minor work from a major author.

A frightened three stars.

Of Godlike Power (Part Two of Two), by Mack Reynolds


Illustrations by Jack Gaughan

Let's recap. Part One of the novel took us to a near future United States of flying cars and automated bars. More importantly, it's a place where most people are unemployed, but enjoy a reasonably comfortable life in a prosperous welfare state. The protagonist is the host of a radio talk show dealing with UFO's and other speculative stuff. His job leads him to an eccentric preacher who has the ability to prevent people all over the world from enjoying certain pleasures of which he does not approve. His miraculous power strikes first at female vanity, eliminating makeup, fancy hairdos, and fashionable clothing. The next targets are radio, television, and movies. The lack of entertainment for the jobless masses leads to chaos.

In Part Two, the radio host, one of the few people who know the reason for these sweeping changes, is forced to join a massive government project designed to investigate and solve the problem.


Forced, as in men with guns come to get him.

The guy manages to convince the authorities that the preacher is responsible. Meanwhile, almost all fiction and comic strips become unreadable, another sign of his power. (He leaves certain things alone, such as The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn and Pogo, proving he has good taste.)


An example of a distorted text. I think it says something like He took aim right at her . . .. I can't read the last word.

Our hero visits the preacher's rural community, which proves to be almost entirely self-sufficient. He is reunited with the preacher's daughter, whom he met in Part One, and romance blooms.


Her real name is Sue, and she's got other secrets.

When the real story reaches the public, the radio host has to save the preacher from an angry mob, then work out a compromise with him. In return for undoing at least some of his miracles, he'll get the chance to broadcast his socioeconomic message to the world.


Rescuing his future father-in-law.

Beneath the surface of a semi-comic plot, the author deals with a lot of serious issues. He considers overproduction, excessive consumerism, waste of natural resources, automation, shallow media, lack of meaningful work, mob violence, authoritarianism, and a bunch of other things. It takes a special kind of skill to mix all this stuff into an entertaining novel.

A thoughtful four stars.

Feasting on the Fatted Calf

(That's just a metaphor. I don't eat meat.)

I'm delighted to see that I came back to write about an above-average issue of the magazine. Everything was worth reading, even if not all of it was outstanding. There was a welcome variety, from comedy to horror, with a large serving of satire. You can choose among the breezy style of Dickson, the savage bite of Kagan, and the elegance of Leiber, to name just a few. All in all, it made for a very pleasant homecoming.


The first novel about Captain Horatio Hornblower. Good stuff.




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Magazine, Science Fiction/Fantasy

[July 14, 1965] The New Dispensation (August 1965 Amazing)

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by John Boston

Continuity and Change

Yeah, yeah, I know that’s the most boring headline since the last time Hubert Humphrey made a speech.  But that’s what everybody (well, somebody) wants to know: how is the new Amazing different, or not, from the old one?

Some things we already knew.  It’s still digest size, now bimonthly, with 32 more pages for a total of 162.  On the cover there is a piece of retro-continuity; the new regime has dropped the old title logo for the older title logo, the one used from October 1960 to December 1963, with very minor variations—an improvement, to my taste.  There’s a fairly generic cover by Alex Schomburg (I am certain the departed editor Lalli had a closet full of these) portraying, as you see, a guy in a loincloth brandishing a spear at a giant computer: Progress vs. Savagery, or Regimentation vs. Natural Freedom, as you prefer.  It is said on the contents page to illustrate Keith Laumer’s Time Bomb.  It does not.  There are a number of interior illustrations.  Coming Next Month has not returned.


by Alex Schomburg

And on the contents page . . . oh no.  The blazing insignia of continuity are . . . Ensign De Ruyter and Robert F. Young.  Forty-six pages of Robert F. Young.  Well, let us keep an open mind; here, brace it with this two-by-four.  Anyway, it’s a mistake to infer too much from this month’s fiction contents, since the new management will likely be burning off the inherited Ziff-Davis inventory for some months.

The non-fiction includes another of Robert Silverberg’s articles on scientific hoaxes, and Silverberg’s book review column—good signs if they are signs, but they too may just be what Lalli left behind.  Ironically, the review column is devoted entirely to reprints, ranging from Wells to Sturgeon.  There is also an editorial, in which Sol Cohen—listed on the contents page as Editor and Publisher—first demonstrates that he can be just as boring as his predecessor in editorializing Norman Lobsenz, and then offers a lame explanation of his plans regularly to publish reprints from old issues of the magazine. 

As for the reprints themselves, Cohen has gone for big names, with early short stories from Isaac Asimov and Ray Bradbury: respectively, The Weapon Too Dreadful To Use from the May 1939 issue, and Final Victim (with Henry Hasse), from February 1946.  Each is accompanied by an unsigned introduction, shorter and less bombastic than those by Sam Moskowitz for the “SF Classic” selections of the Ziff-Davis years.  The original illustrations are reprinted along with the stories.

Time Bomb, by Keith Laumer

Keith Laumer’s novelet Time Bomb begins with Yondor, the son of the chief, going over the mountain to look around.  And he sees—danger!  Wounded on the way back, he makes his way home and reports to the chief that their way of life is at risk and they must act!  But the chief doesn’t want to hear it—hey!  Wake up back there!  If you’re bored, do something useful, like listing all the stories you’ve read that begin with this particular cliche.


by Nodel

Anyway, these primitive characters are the descendants of a human outpost, now menaced by the evil alien Tewk, and Yondor gets away from their attack and into a machine with a transportation system requiring only that he sit in a chair and pull a lever and he’ll be somewhere else.  This is a convenient substitute for a plot, as Yondor blunders his way from place to place before learning enough to get back, rescue his people, and smite the bad guys.  As generic melodrama goes, it’s smooth and clever enough that it might be mildly entertaining, say, if one were stuck in an airport waiting for a late plane.  Two stars.

The City of Brass, by Robert F. Young


by Gray Morrow

On the other hand, remarkably, Robert F. Young’s The City of Brass is actually fairly amusing, and not offensively stupid like most of his other rehashes of myths, legends, testaments, etc.  Billings of Animannikins, Inc., has flown in his time sled back to the days of the Arabian Nights in order to kidnap Scheherazade, here rendered Shahrazad, bring her back to the present so his employers can work up a facsimile for public performance, and then return her to her fate.  But Billings kicks some wires in the sled out of place and they wind up stranded in the age of the Jinn (which proves to be about 100,000 years in the future), not far from the Jinn’s brazen city of the title.

Shahrazad is undaunted.  She doesn’t much like Jinn, and is in possession of a Seal of Solomon (here rendered Suleyman) with which she proposes to force all the Jinn into bottles and seal them up.  Billings considers this a reckless plan, and goes out to reconnoiter, setting in train a ridiculous plot involving ridiculous revelations about the Jinn, their origin, and what has happened to humanity in the intervening millennia.  This actually might have made it into John W. Campbell’s fantasy magazine Unknown if he had run short of material one month.  Young’s familiar sentimentality about beautiful women and the men who are captivated by them threatens to take over, but the story ends quickly enough not to ruin the comic mood.

Three stars.  I’ll put that two-by-four back in the shed.

The Weapon Too Dreadful to Use, by Isaac Asimov


by Julian Krupa

The reprints from Amazing’s past nicely illustrate the problems with reprinting from Amazing’s past.  Asimov’s The Weapon Too Dreadful To Use is his second published story and shows it, with stilted writing, cliched characters and dialogue, and a muddled point.  Humans have occupied Venus and are oppressing the natives, though supposedly racial discrimination and hostility have been eliminated on Earth.  (Not too plausible.) The protagonist and his Venusian friend Antil trek to the ruins of a Venusian city and visit the science museum, which is largely intact, but no one has looked at it in living memory.  (Even less plausible.) In a formerly sealed room, Antil finds the eponymous weapon, which can destroy people’s mental functions at interplanetary distances.  (Plausibility meter breaks.) Venus rebels, Earth sends troops, Venus destroys the minds of a lot of them, Earth backs down and grants independence.  It’s clear there’s a smart guy here trying to figure out how to write stories, but he’s not there yet.  Two stars.

Final Victim, by Ray Bradbury and Henry Hasse


by Hadden

Bradbury and Hasse’s Final Victim is much worse.  It is essentially a Bat Durston—a transplanted Western—about a bad deputy, excuse me, Patrolman, Skeel, who always kills the fugitives he is supposed to apprehend.  His superior Anders knows his excuses are no good but can’t do anything, until Miss Miller, the sister of Skeel’s most recent kill, who has proven to be innocent of the accusation against him, decides to go after Patrolman Skeel.  Anders, noting “the firm line of her chin, the trimness of her space uniform, the hard bold blueness of her eyes which he imagined could easily be soft on less drastic occasions than this,” decides to set her up to ambush Skeel herself out on the plains, I mean asteroids, and take revenge.  But when things get really tough, Miss Miller faints.  I stopped there.  Forget stars.  One mud pie.

The Good Seed, by Arthur Porges

Arthur Porges’s The Good Seed, as mentioned, is another in the series about Ensign De Ruyter.  As usual it has some Earth guys at the mercy of treacherous primitive aliens, and they solve their problem with a scientific gimmick that you might find in the Fun with Science column of a kids’ magazine.  One star.

John Keely’s Perpetual Motion Machine, by Robert Silverberg

Robert Silverberg comes to the rescue in his article about a guy who managed to make a pretty good career out of the perpetual motion con, but ironically might have had a better one developing the means of his fraud in the light of day.  This is by far the best story in the issue, despite the fact that it is apparently true.  Four stars.

Summing Up

Well, that was dismal, wasn’t it?  Except for the Mitigation of Robert F. Young (can someone make a ballad out of that?) and Silverberg’s matter-of-fact competence at storytelling and -finding, nothing to see here, move on, move on.

[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

[July 8, 1965] Saving the worst for first (August 1965 Galaxy)

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by Gideon Marcus

Milestones

Galaxy has now finished 15 years of publication, two thirds of it under the tenure of H. L. Gold and the last five years with Fred Pohl as editor.  If Analog (ne Astounding) is representative of the Golden Age of Science Fiction, and Fantasy and Science Fiction represents the literary fringes of the genre, then Galaxy is emblematic of Science Fiction's Silver Age. 

Now, in the editorial for this month's issue, Pohl notes that Galaxy has evolved with the times and is a different magazine from the one that debuted with an October 1950 cover date.

I'm not sure I agree.  The magazine still looks largely the same, there's still a Willy Ley article in the middle, and the contents still feel roughly within the same milieu: a bit "softer" than the nuts and bolts in Analog, a little meatier than the often light fare of F&SF.  Certainly nothing so avant-garde as what we're seeing from the "New Wave" mags in the UK.

In any event, Pohl undercuts his own assertion by trumpeting next month's issue, which will feature nothing but alumni from the early days of the magazine.  I'm quite looking forward to it, and clearly Pohl is, too.

And after reading this month's issue, boy can I see why…

Recipe for Disaster


by Gray Morrow

Do I Wake or Dream?, by Frank Herbert

The creator of Dune and other lesser titles dominates the current issue: a full 119 pages are devoted to this short novel.  I was dreading it last month, and my dread was well-founded.  Here's the premise:

A giant sphere of a ship, the Earthling, is headed out of the solar system toward Tau Ceti.  On board are six normal human crew, two thousand frozen and dehydrated people, and a thousand embryos.  The humans are all genetic duplicates (with full memories, natch) of actual people, and their main job is to tend the ship-controlling disembodied human brains of "defectives" that have been integrated and trained for the task since birth (a la McCaffrey's The Ship who Sang or Niven's recent series starring Eric the Cyborg).

One by one, the three brains go nuts and either commit suicide or have to be shut down.  Two of the tending crew are murdered in the process.  Now the remaining four have to decide whether to turn back or not.  Complicating the decision is the fact that running the ship without a built-in brain is virtually impossible — the ship has been designed to be extremely delicate to handle, even to the point of having artificial crises pop up just to keep the crew on their toes!

Ultimately, the crew decides to thaw a frozen doctor (so they have, you know, one woman in their ranks) and then, together, create an artificial computer brain to run the ship.

And if that's not enough random factors to juggle, it is also noted that the Earthling is the seventh ship to have its brains all give up.  So this problem has happened twenty one times (what is it that Einstein is reputed to have said about the definition of madness?) And the last time humanity tried to build a sentient computer, the computer, the installation in which it was developed, indeed the entire island disappeared off the face of the Earth into some other dimension, destination unknown.

Herbert is nothing if not ambitious.


by John Giunta

He is, however, also a lousy writer.  I said as much after reading the sprawling, tedious, and humorless Dune World and its second half, Prophet of Dune.  One of my readers suggested that Herbert's third-person omniscient perspective, switching viewpoint characters almost every line, accented by (often superfluous) musings in italics was a deliberate stylistic choice to render the telepathic resonance shared by users of the spice melange.  But he uses the exact same style in Do I Wake, and there is nothing supernatural in this book.

I also found the overt anti-woman prejudice annoying, with the woman doctor character starting out pumped full of anti-sex drugs to keep her from being too excited all the time (one of the men debates taking some, himself, because he worries he'll be too attracted to the doctor; he decides against it because they reduce intelligence.  Fine for her, though.) Even the drawing of the doctor features her tawdrily topless.

Then there is the endless technical jargon that is not only gibberish, but often archaic gibberish: describing the ship's computer's "relays" (as opposed to transistors or microcircuits) is anachronistic for modern times, more so for machines of the future.

So, not only is Do I Wake a distinct displeasure to read, but it also is utterly implausible every step of the way.  At the Journey, we attempt to review everything in the genre that gets put to print, but we refuse to do it to the point of mortification.  I gave up on page 40, and you should feel no shame if you follow suit.

One star.

Peeping Tommy, by Robert F. Young

Yet another Robert F. Young reworking of a fable.  It keeps you engaged until the end, which is typically terrible.

Two stars.

The Galactic Giants, by Willy Ley

The one bright spot in the issue is Ley's competent science article, the majority of which is devoted to giant stars.  The rest deals with tape as a medium for data storage.

Interesting stuff.  Four stars.

Please State My Business, by Michael Kurland

A traveling salesman from the future ends up in the wrong century.  High jinks ensue.  Well, given that the story starts with a sexual assault and ends with a whimper, the jinks are rather low.

Two stars.

The Shipwrecked Hotel, by James Blish and Norman L. Knight


by Gray Morrow

Seven hundred years from now, the Earth houses One Trillion Humans in relative comfort.  This piece details the unfortunate saga of the "Barrier-hilthon", a beach-ball shaped hotel loosely anchored in the South Pacific.  Thanks to some literal bugs in the system, it becomes unmoored, ultimately crashing into an undersea mountain.  A rescue follows.

Hotel could have made an excellent novel by Arthur C. Clarke — a cross between A Fall of Moondust and Dolphin Island.  As is, it's not only surprisingly amateur, but it's also just sort of lifeless, more plot thumbnail than story.

I was a bit surprised as Hotel's expository style did not feel like James Blish at all (I don't know who Norman L. Knight is).  Then I got to the end where it says the story was by James H. Schmitz and Norman L. Knight.  I'm not sure whether its Blish or Schmitz, but Schmitz makes a lot more sense.  Schmitz is often good, but he's also often not, and in just this sort of way.

Two stars.

Galaxy Bookshelf, by Algis Budrys

I don't normally devote inches to the book columns. Nevertheless, I've given Budrys a long rope since he came on few months ago, and I can now say with certainty that not only is his judgment orthogonal to mine, but his writing is impenetrable, too.  This is a pity.  I've liked much of the fiction Budrys has written (at least long ago when he was writing consistently), and I used to greatly value Galaxy's book reviews. 

All Hope Abandoned

Wow.  That was just dreadful.  The only faint praise I can damn with is that the Herbert novel was so bad, it meant I didn't have to waste time on 80 pages of the magazine.  This is, without a doubt, the most worthless issue in the Galaxy series.

At least the bar to clear for next month is nice and low!

If you need to get the bad taste out of your mouth (and I know I do!) come register for this week's The Journey Show! 

We'll be discussing the latest fashion trends of 1965, and we have some amazing guests including the founder of Bésame Cosmetics.  Plus, you'll get to see the Young Traveler show off her newest outfits!

DON'T MISS IT!




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Magazine, Science Fiction/Fantasy, Serial

[July 2, 1965] Gallimaufry (August 1965 IF)

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by David Levinson

A gallimaufry is a kind of stew. Like any stew, it’s composed of a bunch of things thrown together and so has also come to mean any sort of hodge-podge. Since I haven’t been able to come up with some sort of overarching theme this month (and perhaps because, as I write this, I skipped lunch and it’s a couple of hours until dinner), let’s just look at the mish-mash of things that caught my eye (and ear) this month.

The British Invasion continues

On June 12th, the Beatles were named Members of the British Empire. That’s the lowest level of honor granted by the British government, but unsurprisingly a lot of old fuddy-duddies are unhappy with popular musicians being so honored. Member of the Canadian House of Commons Hector Dupuis complained, “British royalty has put me on the same level as a bunch of vulgar numbskulls.” According to my research, apart from seven and a half years in the Canadian Parliament, Mr. Dupuis’ main contribution to society is selling insurance. I’m not sure he’s the one who ought to be complaining about the comparison.


James P. McCartney, George Harrison, John W. Lennon and Richard Starkey showing their medals. You didn’t think his parents named him Ringo, did you?

Sticking with music for the moment, lately I’ve really been enjoying For Your Love by the Yardbirds. It’s a catchy little number that’s been moving up the charts the last few weeks and unusually features a harpsichord. The band took over as the house band at the Crawdaddy Club in Richmond, England when the Rolling Stones went on to bigger things and then acted as the backing band for Sonny Boy Williamson when he toured Great Britain in early 1964. They’ve had a bit of airplay with some old blues numbers, but this is their first real hit. Alas, one man’s meat is another man’s poison. One of their guitarists, a young man by the name of Eric Clapton, has left the band, unhappy with the move to a more commercial sound. He’s since been replaced by Jeff Beck. Let’s hope that Mr. Clapton is content with the relative obscurity of the blues scene.

The Miracles of Technology

On June 14th, a test planned by American and French doctors and communications experts sent an electrocardiogram from a ship at sea to a hospital in France. The ECG was taken from a passenger aboard the SS France in the Atlantic Ocean and transmitted via facsimile machine first to Cornell University hospital, then RCA Communications, Intelsat, D'Liaisons Radiotelephotographiques de France and then to Boucicaut Hospital in Paris. The image that arrived in France was clear enough for doctors to use for diagnosis. Look for this technique to be used in earnest in the future.


Facsimile technology has been used in meteorology for several years. Its use in remote diagnostic medicine shows promise.

Eppur si muove

The British journal Nature dated June 19th included a paper by astronomers Gordon Pettengill and Rolf Dyce titled "A Radar Determination of the Rotation of the Planet Mercury". They have determined that the planet Mercury is not tidally locked to the sun, but rather has a rotation period of approximately 59 days. That means a day on Mercury is about two-thirds as long as its year. Bad news for Larry Niven, whose very first story, “The Coldest Place”, hinged on the planet always showing the same face to the sun, but those are the breaks in the science fiction game.

An IFfy stew

Speaking of science fiction (and the magazine Niven first appeared in) what is Fred Pohl putting on our plate in this month’s IF? Let’s take a look at the ingredients.


Retief makes his way across town. Art by Gaughan

Trick or Treaty, by Keith Laumer

Things are looking grim for the Terran cause on the planet Gaspierre. The planetary parliament is set to decide if they’re going to be neutral, on the side of the Terries, or support the warlike Krultch, and the presence of a Krultch warship heavily outweighs that of the CDT mission under Ambassador Sheepshorn. Anti-Terry riots are blowing up all over, and Krultch soldiers walk the streets with impunity.

We open with Retief using his usual good relations with the locals to get lodgings for a troupe of Terran entertainers (if four people can be said to constitute a troupe). On his way back to the embassy, Retief cripples a couple of Krultch soldiers (they did start it) and learns from the local police that the Terrans are confined to their embassy until the ambassador is due to make his speech to parliament. After a brief consultation with the ambassador, Retief escapes the embassy, makes his way across town and enlists the aid of the entertainers in tossing a monkey wrench in the Krultch plans. Will he succeed in tipping the balance in Earth’s favor? Of course, the only question is how. Will he win the favors of the lovely, red-headed acrobat with the tattoo? Unusually, no, or at least not on the page.


The Krultch captain gets the drop on Retief. Right where Retief wants him. Art by Gaughan

I’m on record as a fan of Retief, but even I have to admit that things are getting a little stale. To carry on with the stew analogy, this is an onion that’s gone a little spongy or a rubbery carrot. The means by which Retief and friends take the wind from the Krultch’s sails are deeply improbable, bordering on the ridiculous. On the plus side, Ambassador Sheepshorn is one of the best names Laumer has come up with in ages. Is that Sheeps-horn or Sheep-shorn? I suspect that the ambassador and the author have very different opinions on that. In any case, long-time readers of the series will likely find this one a bit dull, though newcomers might enjoy it more. However, it’s not the best entry point for the series. A low three stars.

Against the Odds, by John Brunner

On the planet Galrex, an apparent crank is making a scene outside the office of the Superintendent of Galactic Records, warning that the human race is in danger. Superintendent Motice Bain emerges from his office and agrees to listen to the man’s concerns.

Falkirk, as his name proves to be, once planned to make a career in archaeology studying the vanished civilization of the planet Gorgon. The story goes that the natives of Gorgon had learned to manipulate luck and ultimately bored themselves to death. The planet was originally found three or four hundred years earlier by one of the pioneering starscouts, Morgan Wade, who supposedly figured out the lost secret and ultimately became extremely wealthy. Eight or nine years before the time of the story and before Falkirk could go to Gorgon and begin digging, a starship made an emergency landing on the planet. It took several weeks for a needed spare part to arrive, but once the ship was repaired the crew managed to destroy all that was left of the ancient civilization when taking off. Now every member of that crew is the ruler of a planet. Falkirk is convinced that these ten men are going to take over the galaxy.

Using the example of the birthday problem, which shows that it takes a remarkably small number of people to ensure that two members of the group share a birthday, Bain points out to Falkirk that in a galaxy of two trillion people, it isn’t that unlikely for ten of them to become important. After a despondent Falkirk leaves, Bain gets down to business.

There’s a twist at the end of this tale that anybody who has been reading science fiction for more than a handful of years can see coming. It’s a reasonably well told story, but a far cry from the more modern sort of stories that Brunner is capable of writing. Apparently, IF is where he sends his more old-fashioned work. It’s not bad, it’s just not anything special. Three stars.

We Hunters of Men, by Bruce McAllister

Edmond Reud is out hunting scalps when he is attacked by another hunter. He kills the attacker and takes the other man’s scalp. Ignoring the “mind-prickling” that urges him to go toward the Minced Mountain, which touches the ocher-colored sky, he returns to the underground city to exchange his scalps for pellets. Eventually, he reaches the Minced Mountain and meets an old man trapped there by a broken leg. Without pellets, the old man has had his long-term memory return. Together, they solve the mystery of the “mind-prickling”.

Interspersed throughout this are naval communiques between a ship orbiting the planet Tinni and Base Roquefort. It seems that Tinni was one of twelve planets beset by the Judicians, who managed to close the planet in a charge field when they lost the war. The navy believes that the Judicans’ weapons were destroyed, but because they are physically weak they must have found some way to control the human population. They did manage to get a device through the field which will home in on charge field generators and send out cortex wave emissions to get humans to come and tinker with the generators.


The scalper scalped. Art by Giunta

This is McAllister’s second story, and it’s not very good. Clearly the pellets affect memory and are addictive, giving the Judicians a way to get the humans to kill each other, but I fail to see how the system was originally imposed. Further the tonal shift between the two narratives is rather jarring. That on the planet is somewhat grim and rather fitting to the circumstances, while the naval communiques are rather light and a bit jokey. On the other hand, McAllister is only 18 and does show some raw talent. If he spends some time working at his craft and honing his skills he could be a decent writer down the line. But this story? Two stars.

The Crater, by J. M. McFadden

Insurance investigator Johnny Andrews appears to be on vacation in Hawaii. Actually, he’s on the trail of a group that has hijacked two shipments of irillium somewhere between the asteroids (at a guess, it’s never specified) and landing at the docks in North Africa. Waikiki is a good spot to observe the ships entering parking orbit and firing their retrorockets for landing. He figures he’s on the right track, since a couple of suspicious characters have started watching him.

After observing the next hijacking from out beyond the surf line, he manages to get pictures of the two goons, but they grab him before he can contact his home office. He’s bundled into an interisland subway and taken to Wailuku, the main city on the rather rural island of Maui. Johnny escapes and takes refuge in Fenner’s Grill, the best Mexican restaurant in the islands run by a fellow of Chinese extraction who goes by the name Manuel. From Manuel (who is seemingly related to everyone on the island), Johnny learns of the mysterious group which has taken over the ranch in Haleakala crater. With Manuel’s help, he infiltrates the ranch and sets out to thwart the hijackers for good.


Manuel and Johnny discover some really high tech cattle ranching. Art by Nodel

McFadden is this month’s first-time author. According to Fred Pohl, he’s a former naval officer and has already sold another story to IF. Beginning authors are often advised “Write what you know.” I’d bet that McFadden spent a fair amount of time stationed in Hawaii and was likely a radar officer. Anyway, this one was a rather fun adventure tale with a good dose of humor. Maybe a bit of Keith Laumer influence here. Also Manuel is a great sidekick who feels like a real islander without being an offensive stereotype. Three stars.

Patron of the Arts, by Fred Saberhagen

As the Berserker fleet closed in on Sol, the artistic treasures of Earth were loaded aboard the museum ship Franz Hals to be carried to safety at Tau Epsilon. Aboard are a two man crew and famous artist Piers Herron, a man who has lost all interest in living and with it his ability to create. The ship is captured by a Berserker and the crew killed, but Herron is kept alive for observation. He attempts to paint the Berserker and he and the Berserker, using one of its smaller remote units, discuss the meaning of art on the basis of Titian’s Man with a Glove.

Herron tries to capture his captor, while the subject looks on. Art by Gaughan

I mentioned above that Retief is getting stale. Saberhagen has certainly avoided that problem in his Berserker series. Each of the stories has been very different, even when the settings have been similar, such as one or more people being held captive by the great killing machines. That’s most likely because these stories are really about people. In the hands of many other authors, this series would be one massive space battle after another, while with Saberhagen the one story that actually was about a space battle had a tight focus on some of the people involved.

This is an ambitious story, and while that ambition carries it a long way, it doesn’t quite hit the mark. There’s a subplot about a stowaway that really doesn’t work. If Roger Zelazny wrote a Berserker story, this might well be it, and he might have gotten all the way to where Saberhagen was trying to take it. A high three stars, and I mourn what could have given it that fourth.

Skylark DuQuesne (Part 3 of 5), by E. E. Smith

As DuQuesne watches, Dick Seaton launches a brutal counterattack against the mysterious force that struck at the end of the last episode. The Skylark of Valeron, grievously damaged, beats a hasty retreat, and DuQuesne slinks away toward Earth. Seaton has identified their attackers as Chlorans, the bad guys from the last book. Apparently, intelligent life which develops on any Earthlike (or Tellus-type, as Smith would have it) world will be human. They might be green or squat and hairless, but still human. Any intelligent life that develops on a world with a chlorine atmosphere will be Chlorans, and so on. Look, if you shout at every bit of nonsense science in this thing, you’ll lose your voice and probably frighten your neighbors. Just go with it.


The Skylark of Valeron takes a licking and keeps on ticking. Art by Gray Morrow

Seaton hatches a plan to find an enslaved human world in the Chloran controlled galaxy and find or create a resistance. That will give the Skylarkers a base of operations to fight the Chlorans. Naturally, all of the men volunteer to be the one to go down and carry out the plan while all of their wives object. They leave the choice of the best person to the ship’s Brain. It, of course, chooses Seaton. He goes down to the planet chosen by the Brain, meets the resistance, turns them into an effective fighting force and snatches the planet from the clutches of those humans who willingly serve their Chloran masters.

Meanwhile, DuQuesne returns to Earth and looks up Stephanie “Hunkie” de Marigny, brilliant scientist and the one woman who can come close to piercing the armor of cynicism and disdain he’s wrapped himself in. While his agents buy up all the materials he needs to build his own Valeron, Blackie and Hunkie go on a date (Dutch at her insistence). Afterwards, he hotfoots it off to the opposite side of the universe from the Chloran galaxy, finds an uninhabited Earthlike world and, using the plans he got from Seaton, builds his new ship, which he dubs the DQ.


Dick Seaton settles a labor dispute with his foreman. Art by Gray Morrow

Although the “wherefores” continue to fly, this installment is a small step up from last month. In fact, the stuff involving Seaton setting up his resistance movement actually isn’t all that bad. Of course, Smith crams a novel’s worth (or at least a novella’s) of material into 15 or 20 pages. DuQuesne also moves back toward being a slightly more complex villain than he was last time. Two stars.

Summing Up

So, what does the dish that Fred Pohl has given us look like overall? A couple of ingredients that aren’t as fresh as they might be, but are still acceptable; a couple of tasty morsels, not quite gourmet but good; one that’s not very good, but under normal circumstances would be drowned out by the other ingredients; and then there’s the giant lump of meat that’s really gone off at the end. Outside of Skylark, there does seem to be a slight uptick in quality over the way things have been over the last year or so. That or Skylark is making the rest of the stuff look good by comparison.

Every cloud, so they say, has a silver lining. Skylark has been a big black cloud lowering over IF for a while and will continue to do so for a couple of months. The demands it has made on space (originally intended to be just three installments) has made the editorial team take a look at some of their production procedures. Starting next month IF will have 32 more pages in every issue. Fred says that’s enough for two more novelettes, four or five short stories, a complete short novel, or an extra serial installment. Best of all, the price is staying at 50¢. Five months of Doc Smith is a heavy price to pay, and 32 pages isn’t going to make up for Amazing and Fantastic going bimonthly and running more reprints, but it’s a step in the right direction.




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