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[March 26, 1963] The Wind of Change: New Worlds, April 1963

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[While you're reading this article, why not tune in to KGJ, Radio Galactic Journey, playing all the current hits: pop, rock, soul, folk, jazz, country — you might just hear a song from the album released by a new British band: The Beatles!]


by Mark Yon

It’s the end of March, and with the arrival of Spring, at last, the long, long Winter of 1962-63 has cleared. All in about a fortnight. I can’t tell you what a joy it is to feel warmth outside the house, even if the snow has now turned to rain and damp. Many meteorologists are claiming that ‘The Big Freeze’ is the coldest on record, which it certainly felt like.

I’m not sorry to see Winter go. Hopefully now normal routines can be resumed, if a little damper than usual.

Whilst I try and dry out, let’s look at this month’s New Worlds.

Play With Feeling, by Mr. Michael Moorcock

This month’s Guest Editor is one of my personal-favourite authors at the moment, but not for science fiction. I really like his Fantasy stories of Elric, the albino warrior with a blood-lust, but Mr. Moorcock has been steadily building up a reputation in science-fiction as well. Perhaps more relevant here is that he is also one of the advocates, like Mr. Brian Aldiss and Mr. J. G. Ballard, of the so-called “New Wave” of writers who are determined to rewrite the conventions of science fiction. 

It may therefore not be a surprise that Mr. Moorcock uses this opportunity to explain his viewpoint and set out his stall, so to speak. It’s done well, and I expect that this Introduction may be a rallying call to others. The ongoing debate in this magazine continues, but Mr. Moorcock gives a convincing case for change. 

To the stories. There’s a lot of one-word titles this month, and,
like last month, a mixture of space exploration, strange aliens and espionage stories…

Window On The Moon, by Mr E. C. Tubb

Here’s my first surprise of the issue. After the movement of the serial to the back of the issue in the last few months, here it’s the first story we read. It’s also the return of a once- New Worlds regular, Mr. E. C. Tubb. Window On the Moon is a rip-roaring, hyper-sexed tale of ‘Brits-in-Space’, with a snap-inspection, a British espionage agent and a bio-computer.

Much in the breathless style of old Tubb tales, Window On the Moon has more than a touch of Mr. Arthur C. Clarke about it, which in my opinion is not a bad thing! Admittedly it is rather more sexual than Mr. Clarke’s work and also what I remember of Mr. Tubb’s usual material, although I rather suspect that the reason for this will be explained in later issues.  Certainly, after the bombast of last month’s serial, it is a pleasure to read something that just does what it needs to do. But is it memorable? Almost a four out of five, but, in the end, a three out of five. [The Journey does not give half-stars for shorts… (Ed.)]

Quest, by Mr. Lee Harding

The return of Mr. Harding gives us a story of one man’s search to find something ‘real’ in an increasingly artificial world, although it is never clear exactly why there is this need. It reminded me of Mr. Philip K. Dick’s stories about the nature of identity and artificiality. There’s a twist at the end, which isn’t as original as it would like to be, but the story was an enjoyable read. Three out of five.

Dossier, by Mr. John Rackham

From another New Worlds regular, Mr. Rackham’s tale this time is a variant of the old ‘superhuman’ idea, with the key character using his superior powers of deduction to retrieve an important scientist captured by an enemy. It’s an exciting story, but I felt that the story hindered for being a retread. Three out of five.

Compensation, by Mr. James Inglis

Continuing this month’s issue trend of one-word titles, Mr. Inglis’s story is one of very different aliens meeting. When an Earth expedition meets the Thorm, the interspecies communication is more than the humans expected, or hoped for. The story ends with a pleasingly positive revelation, which suggests the uplift of the human race — but the ending felt a little insipid. Three out of five points.

Adaptation, by Mr. Roy Robinson

We finish this month’s fiction with a novelette from an author new to me, but who was actually last in New Worlds in 1959. An expedition team are sent to a new planet to trial conditions before the colonists arrive, and there find a rapidly adapting species that challenges their presence. A story that was more engaging than I thought it would be, the escalating events had a great sense of peril throughout until an ending that seemed appropriate. Four out of five — my favourite story of the issue.

At the back of the issue The Book Review from Mr. Leslie Flood returns this month, with reviews of Mr. J.G. Ballard’s The Drowned World (“local boy done good”) and the “thoroughly enjoyable, non-cerebral” entertainment of Mr. Poul Anderson’s After Doomsday.

In summary, the editorship of Mr Moorcock has produced a much-needed breath of fresh air this month. An issue with less filler than of late. This may be the sign of a change. The serial and novelette in particular seem stronger and generally better overall, combining aspects of the traditional with the ‘New Wave’.




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[March 22, 1963] Return Engagements (April 1963 Fantastic)

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by Victoria Silverwolf

Those of us who are book addicts like to keep track of what's going on in the literary world.  One way to do this is to turn to the New York Times best seller list.  Unfortunately, strikers shut down the city's newspapers in December, preventing us from getting our weekly fix.

We can now breathe a sigh of relief.  The strike is settling down.  The list, which was unavailable from the middle of December until the beginning of March, has returned.  The near-future thriller Seven Days in May by Fletcher Knebel and Charles W. Bailey II, which ended the truncated year at the top of the list, kept that position at the start of this month. 

It was encouraging to see a science fiction novel (even if it wasn't labeled as such) reach number one.  (It has since been replaced by a slim volume containing J. D. Salinger's two novellas Raise High the Roof Beam, Carpenters and Seymour: An Introduction.  They may not be SF, but they're definitely worth reading.)

The Mona Lisa returned to the Louvre this month.  No doubt the French missed their great art treasure as much as New Yorkers did their newspapers.

A less welcome return, as least to my taste, was the Four Seasons to the top of the music charts with their third number one hit, Walk Like a Man.

Fittingly, the latest issue of Fantastic features the return of many names closely associated with the magazine, as well as authors returning to universes they created.

Some Fabulous Yonder, by Philip José Farmer

Frank Bruno's cover art depicts one of the bizarre creatures encountered in this space adventure.  The author revisits the setting of his tales about criminal-turned-priest John Carmody, which have appeared in The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction in recent years.  Carmody is mentioned in passing in this story, but does not take an active role in the plot.  Instead, the protagonist is the government agent who pursued him.  In this story, he turns his attention to another master criminal, a pirate who steals a starship, killing everyone aboard.  His intent is to invade a planet thought to be impossible to conquer.  The story begins as a hardboiled detective yarn, but soon becomes much stranger when the secrets of the planet emerge.  The breakneck pace of this story may leave the reader breathless, even if the plot twists seem arbitrary.  It all leads up to a scene revealing the immensity of time and space.  This wild ride is never boring, at least.  Three stars.

The Malatesta Collection, by Roger Zelazny

A young author who has already appeared in the pages of editor Cele Goldsmith's magazines several times returns with a tale set long after an atomic war.  The new civilization that rises from the ashes is a prim and proper one.  This causes a problem when scholars discover an ancient fallout shelter filled with erotic literature.  The ensuing conflict leads to a symbolic gesture by a rebellious artist.  This is an intriguing story, which can be seen as an allegory about censorship.  Four stars.

A Fate Worse Than . . ., by Robert H. Rohrer

Another new writer familiar to readers of Amazing and Fantastic, although not as prolific, returns with a very different post-atomic story.  It seems that Satanists dug themselves into the Earth in search of Hell, and thus were the only survivors of a nuclear war.  The result is a society in which church services are black masses.  The protagonist is a fellow who secretly summons an angel, the way a magician might summon a demon in our world.  This interesting premise, which could have led to enjoyable satire, is wasted on a familiar story of being careful what you wish for.  Two stars.

The Casket-Demon, by Fritz Leiber

One of the great names in fantastic fiction returns to the magazine that restarted his career with an unusual tale of magic and the movies.  A glamorous film star literally fades away, due to lack of publicity.  Weighing only a few pounds, and so attenuated that she becomes translucent, she turns to an ancient family curse.  By releasing a malevolent creature from inside a small box, she hopes to return to the headlines, even though she knows the price will be a very high one.  This offbeat story combines horror, satire, and whimsical fantasy into a tasty stew.  Four stars.

Survival Packages, by David R. Bunch

A writer that some readers love to hate also returns in this issue.  He revisits Moderan, his dystopic future where survivors of an atomic holocaust have bodies that are mostly metal.  They live in fortresses and make endless war on each other.  Into this terrible world come time capsules, buried long ago and forgotten, brought from underground by robots.  Their contents are disturbing.  The author's style is not as eccentric as usual in this story, and it carries a powerful impact.  Four stars.

A Thing of Terrible Beauty, by Harrison Denmark

Rumor has it that this unknown name is actually a disguise for Roger Zelazny, making his second appearance in the issue.  The style certainly seems like his.  In any case, the narrator is an immaterial alien mind that inhabits the brain of a drama critic.  The man becomes aware of his uninvited visitor.  The alien makes an unexpected revelation.  This is an effective mood piece, if more of an anecdote than a fully developed story.  Three stars.

Rain Magic, by Erle Stanley Gardner

The famous creator of Perry Mason returns with the third of his old pulp stories to be reprinted as so-called fantasy classics.  This fast-paced adventure story first appeared in the October 20, 1928 issue of Argosy.

An old man, passed out in the desert, relates his weird experiences in Africa.  After a shipwreck, he abandons his vessel and is taken in by the local inhabitants.  Among the many dangers he faces are bloodsucking bats, a hostile monkey-man, warring tribes, and man-eating ants.  The action never lets up for a second.  An interesting preface by the author states that the story is based on what he was told by an elderly fellow he met in the desert.  Whatever the truth of this may be, the reader is never bored.  (As in any pulp yarn from the time, there's an unpleasant trace of racism.  The narrator mentions the superiority of the white race, but at least he's somewhat skeptical about it.  He also falls in love with an African woman, which would still raise some eyebrows in this segregated nation of ours.  The story is much less offensive than many others of its kind.) Three stars.

Possible to Rue, by Piers Anthony

Finishing the issue is this light comedy, the author's first published work.  A wealthy man offers to buy his son a pet of any kind.  The boy requests a flying horse, then a unicorn.  The man goes to the encyclopedia to prove they do not exist.  When he asks for mundane animals, the unexpected happens.  This is a clever little bagatelle, likely to amuse.  Three stars.

If the magazine continues to offer stories of good quality, I'll be sure to return to it many times. 

[Speaking of returns, don't miss the next article, about the newest harvest of scientific discoveries from our satellites!]

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Magazine

[March 18, 1963] The Missing Piece (April 1963 Fantasy and Science Fiction)

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by Gideon Marcus

In prior articles, the latest news has headlined and set the stage for the SFnal reviews that followed.  This week, however, the news is all internal, filled with tidbits like

"YOUNG TRAVELER LEADS ACADEMIC LEAGUE TO DISTRICT CHAMPIONSHIPS!"

and

"FIVE YEARS OF R&D CULMINATES IN PRODUCT LAUNCH FOR TRAVELER-HELMED COMPANY!"

And yet, amongst the turmoil created by Mundac the Destroyer, we manage to continue the Journey — our most prized endeavor.  It helps that we now have a tremendous constellation of volunteer writers, allowing us to return to a every-other-day schedule for the first time in four years.  Still, I must do my part.

And so, amidst preparations for the Young Traveler's birthday party, I carved out time to read the April Fantasy and Science Fiction.  It is the inverse of last month's, which was forgettable or worse — until the last story.  This month's is surprisingly good… except for the last few stories.  A fair exchange, I think…

Fast Trip, by James White

Fritz Leiber recently wrote about how computers will soon be advanced enough to beat the best humans at chess in The 64-Square Madhouse.  Anne McCaffrey has written a tale of human brains cybernetically fused computers to control spaceships (The Ship Who Sang).  Now, returns my favorite SF-writing Ulsterian with his own spin on things.  In Fast Trip, we see what happens in a world where pilots are exclusively trained on their own spaceship, for whom swapping craft is as uncomfortable as swapping right-handed gloves with a fellow half your size… and with two left hands.  A good technical thriller.  Four stars.

Still Shall the Lovers, by Doris Pitkin Buck

A poem on how real stars shall always pale in brilliance to those in new lovers' eyes.  Three stars.

Place of Refuge, by Robert J. Tilley

A quick quality dip as Bristolian Tilley writes of the real world as if it be the nightmare, and vice versa.  Uninspired.  Two stars.

The Short and Happy Death of George Frumkin, by Gertrude Friedberg

A playwright, herself, Friedberg turns her hand to a Moderan-esque tale in which a nonagenarian playwright with an electric heart enjoys a brief flash of youthful energy when he's taken off batteries and plugged into the house line.  It's cute.  Three stars.

The Rigid Vacuum, by Isaac Asimov

There are few compound words I like better than "Luminiferous Ether," and fewer people I'd ask to explain this light-conveying substance than The Good Doctor Asimov.  Four stars for the first half of what looks to be a Two Parter.

Tell Me, Doctor – Please, by Kit Reed

Ms. Reed has recently moved and left no forwarding address, sadly terminating our burgeoning correspondence.  As a result, I have no authorial insight for this tale.  Nevertheless, Doctor is a strange and moving piece on dependence and torture as operatives of an evil state attempt to extract the secret of time travel from a bedridden exile from the future.  Difficult to read, and the ending is a strange Matryoshka that I'm still not sure I understood.  But like so much of Reed's stuff, it grips.  Four stars.

Kindergarten, by Fritz Leiber

A straightforward piece on learning the basic X-Y-Zs in a most unusual (and yet, the most commonplace) of settings.  Four stars.

The Voyage of the "Deborah Pratt", by Miriam Allen deFord

F&SF, more than any other SFF digest, is a haven for ghost stories.  This one, involving a 19th Century brig on the Gold Coast run, makes no great advances in plot.  Ah, but the telling, and the subject matter (far more horrific than the fantastic elements), are superb.  Five stars, and sure to be anthologized many times.

The Old Man of the Mountains, by Terry Carr

Over time, certain names in our genre incite a Pavlovian response in me.  For instance, Sheckley provokes a grin.  Garrett incites nausea.  Carr, a newish writer and long-time Big Name Fan, definitely brings about positive reactions, having now impressed me several times in rapid succession.  This pastoral piece, set in the mountains of Oregon, features the reunion of a country-turned-city boy, and the ornery cuss who knew his uncle many years before.  Like the deFord, the quality is in the telling.  Four stars.

My Son, the Physicist! by Isaac Asimov

Here's an inconsequential short-short from a fellow who has mostly abandoned science fiction.  I understand Asimov got a princely per-word sum for this piece, and it was used to adorn an advertisement for Hoffman Electronics in one of last year's Scientific Americans.  Three stars.

The World Must Never Know, by G. C. Edmondson

I really want to like Edmondson, a fellow San Diegan and one of the few non-Whites who has made it into the ranks of the SFF genre (he's Mexican).  But this latest in the series of stories set South of the Border, guest-starring a Mestizo who met an extraterrestrial policeman (to the former's profit, and the latter's dismay), is just too affected.  Two stars.

The Histronaut, by Paul Seabury

I didn't think I'd ever meet a time travel/alternate history story I didn't like, but Seabury managed to produce one.  One page of story preceded by many pages of dithering and nonsense.  And that single page isn't worth the wait.  One star.

Not Counting Bridges, by Robert L. Fish

Finally, a piece on the growing footprint of space devoted to the transit, maintenance, and storage of motor vehicles.  Two stars, careening toward one had it been longer than two pages.

That's a pretty sour note to leave a magazine that still scored a decent 3.2 stars on the Galacto-Meter.  If you stop before the Edmonson, I think you'll find your time thoroughly rewarded.

Speaking of which, I'm now off to jump on the giant trampoline we rented for the birthday party.  If I spot any X-15s on the way down, I'll be sure to snap a photo…




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[March 12, 1963] TOO MUCH TO ASK? (the April 1963 Amazing)

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by John Boston

So: another not-very-good issue, this April Amazing, where the outstanding item is a piece of well-turned yard goods.  So what’s the reasonable expectation here?  Let’s not be too greedy.  How about at least something in each issue that’s unusually good, and nothing that’s unusually stupid?  Is that too much to ask?  Seems like it is, certainly this month.

“It didn’t happen twice a year that Gustavus Robert Fry, Chief Commissioner of the Interstellar Police Authority, allotted more than an hour in his working day to any one appointment.” That’s the opening line of James H. Schmitz’s Beacon to Elsewhere.  Am I the only one who’s gotten tired of stories that begin by announcing what a big shot—interstellar police commissioner, President, Galactic Coordinator, or what have you—one of the characters is? 

Transitory irritations aside, Beacon to Elsewhere—at 64 pages labelled a “novel”—is a reasonably agreeable piece of hokum, involving the discovery of a new series of elements, compounded into Ymir 400, which has many interesting and dangerous properties including emitting a new sort of radiation.  Two 34-kilogram cases of Ym-400 have been stolen from a space ship in transit.  The story starts with 10 pages of talk, with Howard Camhorn, the Overgovernment’s Coordinator of Research, explaining all of this and more to Chief Commissioner Fry.  This is followed by about 45 pages of the gumshoeing adventures of the more plebeian Lieutenant Frank Dowland, on the case in western North America, investigating the activities of some subversive ranchers who may be trying to use the stolen Ym-400 and may or may not be achieving time travel. 

Some large and daunting aliens make cameo appearances, their gravitas unfortunately impaired by the cover depiction which makes one of them look a bit like an oversized Shmoo (see https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Shmoo).  And the story fades out with another nine pages of talk, first Dowland’s debriefing, and then Camhorn and one of his guys talking about the debriefing.  And here is Schmitz’s unusual talent: he renders all this talk in such genial and readable style that he gets away with a way of constructing stories that would get anybody else a quick rejection letter.  I described the last Schmitz story in this magazine as “just capably rearranging the usual SF furniture”; that will do for this one too.  Three stars.

Schmitz’s competent piece of product is accompanied by a suite of fairly lackluster, or worse, short stories.  Roger Zelazny’s Circe Has Her Problems is not metaphorical; Circe has set up shop on a stray asteroid floating loose in interstellar space, hoping for some male company that can withstand her signature talent of turning them into animals.  An android shows up.  It’s as cartoony as it sounds.  Two stars, fewer in the hands of a less lively writer.  Now that Zelazny has broken in, are we getting his earlier practice pieces?

In David Bunch’s Somebody Up There Hates Us, an alien walks into a bar (actually, a night club on New Year’s Eve—and it walks into all of them at the same time, by the clock anyway) and hands out little wish-fulfillment devices, asking only that the patrons wait until midnight to operate them.  Things are not of course what they seem, and humanity (most of it anyway) is saved only because the bartenders are robots and we have time zones.  There is a smattering of ostentatious futuristic jargon (the protagonist is drinking an old fashioned space squeezings) in what is said to be 1972, but otherwise the writing is fairly mundane, unlike Bunch’s Moderan stories, which at least have the virtue of surface novelty.  There is a recurring theme of the mutual dislike between the protagonist and his wife, which is apparently supposed to be funny but is distasteful.  One star.

J.F. Bone’s For Service Rendered is a deal-with-the-Devil story, the Devil having come through Enid Twilley’s malfunctioning TV set, no pentagram needed.  He doesn’t want her soul, he wants her body, and he’s offering to cure the pancreatic cancer she didn’t know she had and give her another ten years or so free before whisking her off to Hel (sic), which he wants her to know isn’t half as bad as it’s cracked up to be.  This is all laid out in reasonably amusing detail, and then concludes in a stupid male-chauvinistic joke.  Another one-star job.

Harrison Denmark’s [a pseudonym if I've ever seen one…(Ed.)] The Stainless Steel Leech is about a werebot, who’s gotten free from Central Control but, to live (so to speak), needs to get his batteries charged by draining other robots, so he’s also a vampbot (my term, not the author’s) and an object of terror among the other robots (humans having disappeared from the scene).  This mildly clever joke is less annoying than but somewhat similar in tone to Circe Has Her Problems, not too surprisingly since rumor has it that Mr. Denmark is actually Zelazny.  Two stars, clutching futilely for a third.

Frank Tinsley is back after a six months’ absence with The Cosmic Wrecker, a more fanciful exercise than his usual; nobody else seems to be proposing a specialized vehicle to tool around and collect all the burnt-out and abandoned satellites and other assorted hardware we’re going to be leaving in near space.  It’s the usual slightly humdrum rendition, but three stars for originality, never mind that SF writers have been there before—see James White’s Deadly Litter, in New Worlds not long ago (US and UK editions).


And Sam Moskowitz, this time, profiles Lester del Rey, with the usual intense focus on his earliest work, and very spotty coverage of his post-1950 work.  (It’s not just me.  One of the readers’ letters this months calls Moskowitz out for “the manner in which they progress in pertinent detail up to about the mid and late ‘forties and then hastily run a bee-line to the nearby closing sentences.  There is hardly any mention of the author’s latter-day achievements.”)

There’s also a concluding psychological diagnosis that seems incoherent and nonsensical to me.  Del Rey has “never learned the lesson of self-discipline”—a guy who has maintained a very high level of free-lance professional productivity of several kinds for the last decade-plus.  Or: “His facade of toughness would seem to be fabricated more to maintain his own self-estimation than as a defense against the world.  Nevertheless its manifestation in his writing represents a psychological conflict that dams up the release of a reservoir of compassion.”

Huh?  What’s he talking about?  Del Rey has always seemed to me one of SF’s more compassionate writers; take a look at the stories in his Ballantine collection of a few years ago, Robots and Changelings.  Moskowitz seems almost laughably off base here, though as usual there’s interesting biographical information here that you won’t find elsewhere (but adding it all up I’m not sure how much of it to believe).  Anyway, two stars.

So, another waste of time for the most part.  Is there hope?  Maybe.  They are touting Leigh Brackett for next month.  If we’re lucky, she’s still better than her husband (fellow SFF-writer Edmond Hamilton).

[P.S. If you registered for WorldCon this year, please consider nominating Galactic Journey for the "Best Fanzine" Hugo.  Your ballot should have arrived by now…]




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[March 8, 1963] Pan-Galactic Union? (April 1963 Galaxy)

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[While you're reading this article, why not tune in to KGJ, Radio Galactic Journey, playing all the current hits: pop, rock, soul, folk, jazz, country — it's the tops, pops…]


by Gideon Marcus

Seven years ago, Egypt's Gamal Nasser, ascendant member of the junta that deposed the constitutional monarchy in '52, ululated his way across the Sinai tilting at the Israeli windmill.  At stake was more than the nationalization of the Suez Canal or the subjugation of the Jewish State.  Nasser's dream has always been a Pan-Arab Union, bringing the Arabs of North Africa and the Middle East under one flag (preferably his), and though Egypt's sword was blunted in that Arab-Israeli war, nevertheless, it was a rallying cry to achieve his dream.

The closest Nasser got was in 1958, when he bound his country and Syria in the hopefully titled "United Arab Republic." There were high hopes that Iraq would also join in.  But the 1961 coup in Syria reduced the U.A.R. to the boundaries of the nation formerly known as Egypt. 

Nevertheless, the dream lives on and may yet achieve reality.  Egypt backed a coup in Yemen in 1962.  Then, there was the recent Ba'athist coup in Iraq, rumored to have been assisted covertly by the United States.  A similar event is underway as we speak in Syria (Egypt and Yemen have already voiced their full support).  The Iraqi government is now talking about joining the U.A.R.  And so, the Arab Union that features so prominently in Mack Reynold's "Black Africa" series may soon come to fruition.

I can't help but wonder if science fiction writer and editor Fred Pohl is taking a page from Nasser's book.  As of last month, Pohl now helms three science fiction magazines, Galaxy, IF, and Worlds of Tomorrow, an empire of pages rivaled only by the twin magazines, Fantastic and Amazing, under the dominion of editor Cele Goldsmith.  Will an SF Cold War break out?  Perhaps a Personal Union like what happened under James I/VI of Great Britain?  Either way, the fallout of Pohl's ambitions, unlike those of the Egyptian leader, can only be for the good of humanity.  One need only look at the most recent issue of Galaxy for proof.

The Visitor at the Zoo, by Damon Knight

The first half of the magazine is taken up with a single novella set in the early 21st Century.  A sentient alien from Brecht's World, a spiky biped, is brought to the Berlin Zoo to mate with another of its race.  But when the creature swaps bodies with a young journalist, both of the resulting entities must learn to make the best of their situation.

Author Damon Knight has recently spent much more time editing, critiquing, and translating works from French authors than producing his own work.  Visitor marks his first original story in quite a while.  Knight manages to give the work just a trace of awkwardness, capturing the feel of a translated piece.  At first, it reads like a farce, some Teutonic trifle from the pen of a decent German talent.  But Visitor is really a story about what it means to be human, the indignity (and arbitrariness) of being designated a sub-human, and the general indifference of most people to these issues.  Effective satire and enjoyable (most of the time — some bits are hard to take) reading.  Four stars.

The Lonely Man, by Theodore L. Thomas

Is the value of a colony its ability produce goods that can't be made at home?  Or is the act of colonization itself a worthy pursuit?  Thomas draws a fine portrait of a reticent genius, an engineer whose mind is a wellspring of inventions that require other worlds as sites of manufacture.  But said engineer's motivation is extraterrestrial sojourn — the benefit to humanity is secondary.  Four stars for this well-drawn piece.

My Lady Selene, by Magnus Ludens

Back in 1957, Isaac Asimov wrote a story about the Moon, and what mysteries might be dispelled once we got there.  The Good Doctor's take on it was strictly for laughs, and since the flight of Luna 3, also outdated. 

Ludens' tale is a more serious but no less whimsical variation on the theme — what will we find when we get there?  Selene is a tale of the first human on the Moon, and how he does his level best to preserve the spirit of wonder associated with our planet's companion.  Nicely done, perhaps a tad overwrought.  Three stars.

For Your Information: The Great Siberian Space Craze, by Willy Ley

Galaxy's columnist (goodness — almost 13 years already!) has a good article on the Siberian Tunguska blast of 1908 and its likely origins.  It's an interesting look at science behind the Iron Curtain, and the first good explanation I've read as to why the object that decimated dozens of square miles of forest couldn't have been a spaceship.  Four stars.

On the Fourth Planet, by J. F. Bone

Veterinarian and veteran author Jesse Bone gives us this fascinating tale of the fateful first contact between the pseudopodian Martians and the metallic Terrans.  Plausible, thoughtful, even beautiful.  I won't spoil more (though Finlay's lovely art spoils plenty).  Five stars.

Voyage to Far N'jurd, by Kris Neville

Lastly, we have the latest from Kris Neville, a fellow who sometimes turns out good stuff, but more reliably turns out bad stuff.  N'jurd is in the latter category.  While the words Neville wrote are certainly in English, they are not strung together in a way that makes a coherent story — certainly not an enjoyable one.  Something about a colony ship and the traditions that grow after many generations of travel.  Maybe.  Again, it's ersatz English.  One star.

Despite the disappointing finish, this month's Galaxy was otherwise fine and quick reading.  And at half-again as large as any other magazine on the market, it makes a fine core for Pohl's burgeoning Empire of prose.  Lecturi te salutant!

[P.S. If you registered for WorldCon this year, please consider nominating Galactic Journey for the "Best Fanzine" Hugo.  Your ballot should have arrived by now…]




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[March 2, 1963] Bucking the System (March 1963 Analog)

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[While you're reading this article, why not tune in to KGJ, Radio Galactic Journey, playing all the current hits: pop, rock, soul, folk, jazz, country — it's the tops, pops…]


by Gideon Marcus

February has been a busy month for the Journey in terms of fanac (Fan Activity for you normal folks), including a presentation at the Mysterious Galaxy bookstore in San Diego and a panel at a small Los Angeles convention last weekend.  And the pace hasn't slackened: tonight, I'll be giving a talk on the Space Race at, of all places, a space-themed pub.  (And if I met you at the event, be sure to drop me a line.  I love meeting folks from all eras…)

This month's Analog Science Fiction, that great faded lady of the genre, has also been lively.  Not only has it recently grown from digest to slick-sized (so as to take shelf space next to other respectable mags like Time and Scientific American), but it features a host of stories whose common theme seems to be rebellion against a stultifying system. 

So let's check out the March 1963 Analog, shall we?

Natural Resources in Space, by John W. Campbell, Jr.

Apparently Editor Campbell couldn't find anyone to write a science article for him this month…or nothing he got met his exacting standards (i.e. didn't involve quack science like psychics, dowsing, or reactionless drives).  On the other hand, what we got in the way of nonfiction this month is a pleasantly crunchy piece on the location and accessibility of valuable materials in the solar system — from the iron of the asteroids to the helium of the gas giants.  Now we just need to get there!  Three stars.

Frigid Fracas (Part 1 of 2), by Mack Reynolds

Joe Mauser, Mercenary supreme, is back.  Last time we saw him, he was wending his way up through the rigid caste system of 21st Century "Industrial Feudalism," his only opportunity for social climbing being to fight in live-fire corporate disputes.  These "fracases," broadcast on Telly to a largely unemployed, tranquilized populace, are a modern-day Bread and Circuses.  And they're tightly regulated.  No weapons beyond those available in 1900 are allowed; this produces just enough slaughter to entertain, but the weapons pose no threat to a civilized, otherwise peaceful world. 

This time around, the ambitious Major stakes everything on a repeat of his last performance, flying an unmotored sailplane on a reconnaissance patrol.  But this time, he goes armed with a machine gun…because the opposing team has also discovered the benefits of taking the high ground.  Though this is just Part 1 of a two-parter, and despite featuring a fair bit of exposition, this installment makes a decent stand-alone story — and the world Reynold paints is vivid, if not particularly plausible.  Four stars.

All Day Wednesday, by Richard Olin

Ernie, a working stiff in a union factory, dreams of the day when he can finally stop worrying about it all.  That day will never come, because the day he's in won't ever end.  It's a weird, Twilight Zoney piece that doesn't make a lot of sense, but it's nicely rendered.  Three stars.

The Happy Man, by Gerald W. Page

Centuries from now, humanity has left for the stars, leaving behind the placid stay-behinds, content to spend their time in suspended animation, dreaming their own private Heavens.  But one fellow won't accept an artificial paradise and becomes a rebel, raiding the remaining settlements for food and other plunder.  To each their own poison, right?  A decent tale with a surprising ending.  Three stars.

Not in the Literature, by Christopher Anvil

Chris Anvil is an Analog perennial whose work tends toward the satirical.  When he publishes elsewhere, his work can be quite good, but when he writes for Campbell, it tends to take on a self-satisfied tone.  Literature is one of his better efforts in Analog, about an alternate timeline (or another planet) where the history of science differs from our own.  They have experimental rocketships, airships, advanced metallurgy and chemistry, yet no conception of electricity.  When a failed chemist offers a wild plan to conduct heat down a wire (Dig it — current flows!), he is met with derision and dismissal.  Cute, and my nephew, David, liked it.  Three stars.

Spanner in the Works, by J. T. McIntosh

Finally, we have a Spy vs. Spy tale…except the other Spy is not only supposed to be a good guy, it's not a guy at all!  Rather, a capable counter espionage agent must discover why the Bureau's hotshot computer has suddenly started giving useless advice.  A pleasant potboiler, although it's very much in the "Problem; Solution," category of stories, sort of the SF equivalent of the locked room mystery.  Good stuff…for the early 1950s.  Three stars.

This being the end of the month, it's time to see how the monthly sci-fi magazines fared in comparison with each other.  This time around, we had seven, more than the Journey has ever reviewed at a time.  Thank goodness we have the writers to cover it (ten at last count…) If you added up all the four and five-star stories, the stuff worth reading, you'd have enough to fill two whole magazines.  That's pretty good.  Only three out of forty eight stories were by women, continuing the dismal trend of the last several months.  That's not so good.

For you baseball fans, here are the actual numbers: IF secured the top spot with 3.3 stars, followed by Analog (3.2), Worlds of Tomorrow (3), Fantasy and Science Fiction (just 2.7, but featuring the month's best story), Fantastic (2.7), New Worlds (2.6), and finally, Amazing (2.3).  But all of them have something to recommend them, regardless of the score.

Be sure to stay tuned.  Next up, Jason Sacks is back with a look at National Comics…because you knew he couldn't let my recent praise of Marvel go unanswered.  See you then!

[P.S. If you registered for WorldCon this year, please consider nominating Galactic Journey for the "Best Fanzine" Hugo.  Your ballot should have arrived by now…]




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[February 27, 1963] Keep On Going: (New Worlds, March 1963)

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[While you're reading this article, why not tune in to KGJ, Radio Galactic Journey, playing all the current hits: pop, rock, soul, folk, jazz, country — it's the tops, pops…]


by Mark Yon

I was hoping to report better things about the British weather this month. But no – we’re still in what seems like the middle of a deep freeze period. Earlier this month there was a blizzard that covered most of the country for over 36 hours. The weather has been so bad that, unusually, professional football matches (soccer matches to you US readers) have been postponed – more than once in some cases:

The sea’s even been frozen in places:

I’ve never known anything like it in my lifetime, but here’s hoping that by the time I write next month things will be back to some sort of normal.

To New Worlds, then.

Fallacies in Science Fiction, by Mr. Donald Malcolm

The Guest Editorial this month (yes – another one!) is by an author who has been here a lot lately. Although limited in experience, Mr. Malcolm takes advantage of this opportunity to explain things as he sees it. The Editorial is both a celebration and a critique of s-f, claiming on one hand that its imaginative concepts satisfy the needs beyond those of mundane readers and then counterarguing that this is the reason for s-f unlikely to become mainstream popular. The ongoing argument continues.

To the stories. There’s a general theme of aliens and alien planets this month.

Inductive Reaction, by Mr. Russ Markham

This is an “alien anthropology” story in the ongoing series featuring the Hunters and the Laings of the Galactic Union Special Survey Teams. This time the couples go to Oris IV, a Venusian jungle planet, where they have to solve a puzzle: why do the planet natives, seemingly peaceful and obsequiously eager to please, suddenly attack expeditionary members without warning? It’s a logical, if rather uninspiring solution, surrounded by clichés such as the point that the good wives should stay at home whilst the men do the dangerous work. Not one of Mr. Markham’s best, I feel. Two out of five.

Aqueduct, by Mr. Francis G. Rayer

Mr. Rayer’s tale of Mankind’s attempt to subjugate an alien species on a waterless planet made me think of modern day construction schemes in countries like Egypt. It’s another one-idea type of story, but I enjoyed it as much as Mr. Rayer’s last, Capsid. Three out of five.

Eviction, by Mr. John Baxter

Written by someone from an ex-British colony, there’s more than a little nod and a wink towards colonialism in this likeable story about when aliens come back to Earth to reclaim their territory. It starts really well, even if the conclusion is a little too convenient. Three out of five points.

Bottomless Pit, by Mr. Philip E. High

I was rather dismissive of Mr. High’s last story in New Worlds, but this one was a slight return to form. A story of planetary invasion with a unique planetary defence mechanism. It’s logical and solid, if a little jarring in its depiction of alien attraction. One of the more enjoyable stories in this issue. Three out of five.

Too Good to be True, by Mr Walter Gillings

A short but welcome return to fiction by one of New Worlds’s founding editors, Too Good to be True is a lighter story composed of letters sent to an imaginary magazine editor by an author who may be more authentic than the Editor requires. Slightly entertaining. Three out of five.

Dawn’s Left Hand, by Mr Lan Wright

And lastly, to the final part of this rather underwhelming serial. Things are tied up rather conveniently, albeit at the usual breakneck speed, which, of course, gives us little time to think about how improbable everything is. Our ‘hero’ Martin Regan, acting as gangster Manuel Cabera, gets past the previous difficulties to reach another plot point clearly meant to be a grand reveal. Unfortunately, the story ends up being depressingly predictable and increasingly illogical. I’m pleased that this serial has come to an end, but at least its limitations has shown me how much s-f has progressed in recent years. Still two out of five.

In summary, a more solid issue than the February issue, but I still feel that we’re treading water here. When New Worlds is at its best, there’s a variety of thoughtful and literate stories, all bringing something new to the table. More recently though, I can’t help feeling that there’s been a lot of filler, with tales that are limited in success. I hate to say it, but reading issues is becoming a bit of a struggle.

[P.S. If you registered for WorldCon this year, please consider nominating Galactic Journey for the "Best Fanzine" Hugo.  Your ballot should have arrived by now…]




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[February 24, 1963] Something Old, Something New (March 1963 Fantastic)

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[While you're reading this article, why not tune in to KGJ, Radio Galactic Journey, playing all the current hits: pop, rock, soul, folk, jazz, country — it's the tops, pops…]


by Victoria Silverwolf

The pace at which innovations are arriving in these modern times is dizzying.  This month alone, a remarkable array of novel products appeared:

A new commercial aircraft, the Boeing 727, made its first flight.  It differs from the earlier 707 in having three jet engines rather than four.  Intended for short and medium-length flights, it can use shorter runways at smaller airports than the older model requires.

The Coca-Cola Company introduced Tab, a new diet soft drink, in competition with Royal Crown Cola's Diet Rite.  An IBM 1401 computer generated more than 185,000 four-letter words containing one vowel as possible names for the product.  The winning name, shortened from "tabb,"sometimes appears as "TaB," with the first and last letters capitalized.

The Feminine Mystique is a recently published book by Betty Friedan that may lead to a new women's movement, similar to the fight for voting rights in the early years of this century.  It challenges the idea that the most fulfilling roles for American women are as housewives and mothers.

While we welcome all these new things, we should also remember the old.  Telstar 1, which now seems like a part of history, although it launched only seven months ago, has ceased operating.  Radiation in the Van Allen belt destroyed its delicate circuitry.

Popular music also featured a mixture of old and new in recent weeks.  Earlier this month, Walk Right In by the Rooftop Singers reached the top of the charts.  Many listeners may not have realized that this catchy folk song is a remake of a tune first recorded by Cannon's Jug Stompers way back in 1929.  This revision of an old song yielded the Number One position later in the month to something brand new, Hey Paula, as sung by a duo calling themselves Paul & Paula.  In my opinion, this is a case where newer isn't better.

Fittingly, half the stories in the latest issue of Fantastic appear in print for the first time, while the other half date back to the previous century.

Physician to the Universe, by Clifford D. Simak

One of the biggest names in science fiction begins his most recent story in a mysterious fashion.  A man awakes in a dark place with little memory of his past.  Little by little, he remembers what happened to him.  This is a future world where robots enforce strict health regulations.  The man's crime is failing to take care of himself.  His punishment is exile to an island in the middle of a vast swamp.  With two fellow prisoners, he undertakes the long and dangerous journey across the wilderness to freedom.  Slowly, he recalls the extraordinary thing that happened to him as a child, and the important reason he must return to his home.  This is a complex story, told with multiple flashbacks.  Some scenes are full of lyrical beauty.  One might quibble that the ending is sudden, and that the author makes use of too many speculative themes for a story of this length, but overall it's compelling.  Four stars.

A Question of Re-Entry, by J. G. Ballard

A major British author offers a science fiction version of Joseph Conrad's Heart of Darkness in his latest story.  A United Nations official travels deep into the South American jungle in search of a spacecraft that crashed there five years ago.  He finds a tribe of Indians ruled by a white man who knows more about the missing vehicle than he admits.  Ballard has a gift for vivid description, and the jungle setting truly comes to life.  The plot is less effective, but adequate.  Three stars.

An Apparition, by Guy de Maupassant

We begin a trio of reprints with this 1883 story, translated from French.  An elderly man recounts the ghostly encounter he experienced as a young soldier.  There's not much else to this tale of the supernatural, which is really just an anecdote.  Two stars.

The Wet Dungeon Straw, by Jean Richepin

Also from 1883, and also translated from French, this macabre little story involves a man held prisoner for decades.  He becomes obsessed with drying out the wet straw on which he lies, exposing each piece to the tiny bit of sunlight he receives each day.  This project takes many years, and leads to an ironic conclusion.  Three stars.

His Natal Star, by Austyn Granville

This bagatelle from 1891 features an astronomer as its protagonist.  The star under which he was born draws near the solar system, and its gravity causes him to be drawn toward it.  The only purpose of this bit of absurd science is to show the fellow floating upside down in his home.  One star.

Nine Starships Waiting, by Roger Zelazny

We return to new fiction with the longest story yet from this prolific young writer.  It's difficult to offer a synopsis of this confusing tale.  Suffice to say that a super-assassin is sent to prevent a fleet of spaceships from conquering a planet.  The story is told from multiple viewpoints, and the assassin undergoes a strange change of identity, so the plot is difficult to follow.  The story is overwritten at times, with many literary allusions.  Two stars.

This disappointing issue, with a few bright spots, proves that both the old and the new contain good and bad.

[P.S. If you registered for WorldCon this year, please consider nominating Galactic Journey for the "Best Fanzine" Hugo.  Your ballot should have arrived by now…]




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[February 20, 1963] A merry chase (March 1963 Fantasy and Science Fiction)

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[While you're reading this article, why not tune in to KGJ, Radio Galactic Journey, playing all the current hits: pop, rock, soul, folk, jazz, country — it's real now, man…]


by Gideon Marcus

If you've been reading the papers this week, you've no doubt been avidly following the improbable trip of the Anzoategui.  This Venezuelan freighter was hijacked by Communist dissidents who wanted to embarrass Venezuelan prime minister Betancourt such that he wouldn't visit the United States.  Several navies chased the purloined vessel as it steamed 'round the eastern hump of South America, ultimately finding sanctuary in Brazil.

The editorial helm of F&SF was recently taken over by Avram Davidson, and like the poor freighter, the magazine has been a captive to its new master and his whims.  Quality has declined steeply, and were it not for Asimov's article and the excellent tale at the end, this issue would barely be fit to warm a stove.

But, those two pieces are the saving grace of the March 1963 Fantasy and Science Fiction…

Seven Day's Wonder, by Edward Wellen

This un-shocking tale of an electric New Testament missionary will fail to galvanize you, either with its ponderous pace or its puny puns.  Honestly, this is the sort of thing Avram Davidson (now F&SF's editor) used to make work.  Sadly neither Wellen nor Davidson are Davidson anymore.  Two stars.

The Day After Saturation, by D. K. Findlay

If overpopulation compel us to settle the seas, is de-evolution toward our aquatic ancestry the next inevitable phase?  Probably not, and this, Findlay's first work, is overwrought.  Two stars.

The Sky of Space, by Karen Anderson

Not a bad poem on the changing understanding but unchanging characteristics of outer space.  Three stars.

The Question, by Donald E. Westlake and Laurence M. Janifer

Hot enough for you?  Be careful what you take for granted.  It might just disappear.  Three stars.

The Importance of Being Important, by Calvin Demmon

Second in a matched pair on solipsism (also from a new author), it explores the perfect life of a fellow whose existence is merely another's convenience.  Pointless.  Two stars.

The Journey of Ten Thousand Miles, by Will Mohler

It's the end of the world, and Tyson St. J Tyson III desperately wants to leave his tomb of a house and go on a sea cruise — only the sea isn't there anymore.  Three pages of a story inflated five-fold to no one's profit.  One star.

Captain Honario Harpplayer, R.N., by Harry Harrison

Overblown, unfunny pastiche of C. S. Foreseter's work.  I've often said that I have trouble distinguishing Harrison and Laumer, but Laumer is funnier when he tries.  1 star.

Game for Motel Room, by Fritz Leiber

When a three-brained, too-silky centenarian beauty with a homicidal husband comes a flirtin', best you send her packing sooner rather than later.  Decently written, but disturbing and kind of dumb.  Two stars.

You, Too, Can Speak Gaelic, by Isaac Asimov

I love pieces on etymology, and the Good Doctor does a fine job of explaining the (not) Celtic roots of para-dimethylaminobenzaldehyde.  Four stars.

Zack With His Scar, by Sydney Van Scyoc

When the world of the future is perfect, the only imperfect thing…is you.  And the only therapy is being saddled with someone worse.  I don't know that I liked this story, but I found it interesting.  Three stars.

Hunter, Come Home, by Richard McKenna

I put off reading the final novelette for days, given how lackluster the rest of the issue had been.  But this story makes up for them all.  It's sort of a cross between Deathworld and Hothouse — a planet with a single, planet-spanning and omnivariate lifeform is under attack by a group of rapacious colonists bent on scouring the native biome and replacing it with terrestrial plants and animals.  The rationale of the invaders is plausible (if distasteful), the depiction of the native life is profound, and the characterization is superb.  Five stars.

And there you have it.  Mediocrity and downright lousiness followed by a burst of talent.  Let's hope Asimov and McKenna don't disembark at Brazil, never to be seen again…

[P.S. If you registered for WorldCon this year, please consider nominating Galactic Journey for the "Best Fanzine" Hugo.  Your ballot should have arrived by now…]




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[February 15, 1963] New Kid in Town (April 1963 Worlds of Tomorrow)

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[If you're in in Southern California, you can see the Journey LIVE at Mysterious Galaxy Bookstore in San Diego, 2 p.m. on February 17!]


by Victoria Silverwolf

Frederik Pohl must not be busy enough editing Galaxy and If.  Now he's added another bimonthly magazine to his roster with the appearance of the first issue of Worlds of Tomorrow.

There hasn't been a new American science fiction magazine on the newsstands for about five years, and none of them survived for very long.  (Anybody remember Saturn?) It's been more than a decade since any magazine of SF which is still published in the USA was launched.  If and Fantastic are the most recent success stories. 
Given the death of so many periodicals in the field over the last ten years, the publishers are taking a risk.  Let's take a look at the contents of the premiere issue and see if the quality of fiction justifies their hazardous venture.

People of the Sea (Part 1 of 2) , by Arthur C. Clarke

The magazine begins in fine form with a new novel from this talented British writer.  Set in the middle of the next century, it follows the adventures of a teenage boy as he stows away on a hovercraft bound for Australia.  Barely surviving the sinking of the vessel, he winds up on a small island near the Great Barrier Reef.  He encounters scientists who can communicate with dolphins, and plays an important part in their project.  The first section of this installment is full of fast-paced action.  The second section is mostly a travelogue of this part of the Pacific.  However, the reader's interest never fades, because the author's descriptions are always fascinating.  Clarke obviously knows and loves the Great Barrier Reef, and he writes about the sea as compellingly as he does about space.  One minor quibble is the fact that this novel seems intended for younger readers.  Much like Heinlein's so-called juveniles, it is likely that adults will enjoy it as well.  Four stars.

X Marks the Pedwalk, by Fritz Leiber
This is a brief account of a future war between pedestrians and drivers.  The government steps in to keep the level of violence within certain limits.  Although Leiber is incapable of writing a bad sentence, it's a very minor piece.  Two stars.

The Long Remembered Thunder, by Keith Laumer

A government agent investigates a mysterious transmission coming from a small town.  It involves a recluse who is nearly a century old and the woman he loved at the turn of the century.  The story begins as a realistic tale of intrigue, but eventually becomes an account of a vast conflict across dimensions.  It held my interest, but the climax was too fantastic for my taste.  Three stars.

Where the Phph Pebbles Go, by Miriam Allen deFord

Aliens play a game of throwing rocks.  Some of the stones escape their low-gravity planet and wind up landing on other worlds.  They realize this might draw unwanted attention, so they come up with a plan to eliminate the problem.  This comic tale is inoffensive, but not very amusing.  The author tosses in several silly words like the one in the title.  Two stars.

Third Planet, by Murray Leinster

This story takes place in a future where humanity easily travels hundreds of light-years, but the Cold War is still going on.  The Communists have the upper hand, as they are willing to start a nuclear war if the West ever refuses to give in to their demands.  While this is happening, a starship discovers a planet much like Earth, but with no life.  The reason for this involves a device located on another planet in the same solar system.  The alien technology threatens to destroy the Earth, but also promises to save it.  The author's treatment of the Reds is heavy-handed, depicting them as gleefully plotting to destroy the opposing side without mercy.  There's mention of an implausible scientific law which states that all solar systems must be similar to our own.  Two stars.

Heavenly Gifts, by Aaron L. Kolom

A housekeeper who works at a facility where scientists are attempting to contact other planets uses their equipment to broadcast what she thinks of as prayers.  She asks for simple things like an electric blanket, and they miraculously appear from nowhere.  Meanwhile, radioactive materials begin to disappear from Earth, leading to panic in the governments of the USA and the USSR.  This is a trivial comedy with a weak ending.  Two stars.

The Girl in His Mind, by Robert F. Young

A man purchases the services of an alien (but very humanoid) prostitute.  She has a human girl living in her home, purchased as a slave when the child lost her parents.  After this opening scene, the reader enters the bizarre landscape of the man's mind, where he wanders through scenes of his past while pursuing a woman whom he believes murdered her father.  Meanwhile, three women from his childhood chase him.  The transition between these sections of the story is disorienting, but we eventually find out what's really happening.  Like many stories from this author, the plot involves a man's obsessive love for a woman.  It's strange enough to hold one's attention, but may be too Freudian for many.  Three stars.

To See the Invisible Man, by Robert Silverberg

We end on a high note with this excellent story from a prolific author whose work has not often been distinguished.  He creates a future society where a man guilty of the crime of being cold-hearted is sentenced to a year of symbolic invisibility.  A mark on his forehead warns all who see him that they must act as if he does not exist.  The author goes into a great deal of detail as to how this strange form of punishment might work.  At first, the man enjoys the ability to commit petty crimes without consequences.  He soon discovers the many disadvantages of invisibility, from the fact that he will not receive medical treatment, even if he is dying, to the intense loneliness of complete isolation.  At the end of the story, he learns to reach out to his fellow human beings, even at great cost.  This is a unique and compelling tale, with an important point to make.  Five stars.

If the editor continues to publish stories of the quality of People of the Sea and To See the Invisible Man (while filling up pages with fair-to-middling work), we may still be reading Worlds of Tomorrow when we are living in the world of tomorrow.

[P.S. If you registered for WorldCon this year, please consider nominating Galactic Journey for the "Best Fanzine" Hugo.  Your ballot should have arrived by now…]




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