Category Archives: Serial

[April 26, 1969] Downbeat (May 1969 Fantasy and Science Fiction)

photo of a man with glasses and curly, long, brown hair, and a beard and mustache
by Gideon Marcus

Impending collapse

The end may be near for the nascent would-be-state of Biafra.  For two years, the Nigerian breakaway has seen its land systematically (re)taken, and the eight million Biafrans, mostly Ibo people, have been crammed into ever small regions under Biafran control—just 3,000 out of an original 29,000 square miles.

Starvation rages, killing more than gunfire.  Yet the Biafrans remain unbowed, converting diesel generators to run on crude petroleum, keeping churches open (at night, anyway), and getting food via threatened air strips.

But on the 22nd, the capital and last Biafran city, Umuahia, fell to Nigerian forces.  Chukwuemeka Odumegwu Ojukwu, President of Biafra, has vowed he will continue the struggle in guerrilla fashion.  Only Gabon, Haiti, Ivory Coast, Tanzania, and Zambia have recognized the secessionist state, although tacit assistance has been provided by such diverse states as France, Spain, Portugal, Norway, and Czechoslovakia. 

At this point, it's hard to imagine the Biafran experiment succeeding.  But surely there must be more that we can do apart from watch helplessly.  I wish I knew what it was.  Support the Red Cross, I suppose.

Impending mediocrity

I don't have a great segue from that bummer of a news item.  All I have is the lastest issue of Fantasy and Science Fiction.  While it's not entirely unworthy (the opening serial is pretty good), the rest offers little respite from the bleakness of the real world:


by Jack Gaughan

Operation Changeling (Part 1 of 2), by Poul Anderson

Back in the '50s, Poul had a great series that took place on a parallel Earth.  Its history was not dissimilar to ours, but wizardry replaces technology in many regards.  It's a bit like Garrett's Lord D'Arcy series, but a touch sillier.  The stars of the series are a magical duo comprising a werewolf and a magic-using dragoon Captain.  In the latest story (a decade ago!) the two had gotten married.  In the latest installment, Ginny and Steve are the proud parents of a beautiful little girl.

Unfortunately, Valeria Victrix has been born into a difficult time.  Adherents of St. John, whose outwardly clement brand of Christianity hides disturbing cultist elements, are waging a war against authority and the military-industrial complex—including the defense contractor that employs Steve.  The Johnnites are essentially stand-ins for the current peace movements, albeit more sinister.

The conflict with the less-than-civil resisters recedes in importance, however, when on her third birthday, Valeria is abducted by no less than the demonic forces of Hell.  It is now up to Steve and Ginny to rescue their little girl before she is incurably corrupted…and to determine if the Johnnites are at all responsible!

Anderson has three main modes: crunchy, compelling science fiction; crunchy, dull-as-dirt science fiction; and lightish fantasy.  This short novel, despite the dark subject matter, promises to be the most fun romp since Three Hearts and Three Lions.

Four stars so far.

The Beast of Mouryessa, by William C. Abeel

A French sculptor is commissioned to create a replica of an obscene, demonic figure, unearthed recently in the Avignon region.  The original stone creature has a history of causing catastrophe to those who behold it, but the lovely matron who wants the copy seems unperturbed.  Of course, the sculptor has all sorts of ill feelings and second thoughts, but he does nothing about them.  In the end, he is possessed by the spirit of the thing, and awful stuff ensues.

Aside from all the sex and frequent references to the statue's enormous dong, this story is pretty old hat.  Lovecraft did this kind of thing better.

Two stars.


by Gahan Wilson

London Melancholy, by M. John Harrison

A host of eerie mutants roam post-apocalyptic London in this absolutely impenetrable, unreadably purple piece.

One star.

For the Sake of Grace, by Suzette Haden Elgin

Thousands of years from now, Earth and its solar colonies have organized into a patriarchal, caste-based system.  The Kadilh ban-Harihn has much cause for joy: four sons who have all passed the stringent test to become 4th degree members of the Poet caste.  But he also has a hidden pain; his sister was one of the rare women to dare entry into the coveted ranks of the Poets.  Her fate for failing was that of all women who fail—eternal solitary confinement.

'Unfair!' you cry?  Well, at least it keeps women from trying such a foolhardy endeavor.  Which is why it hits the Kadilh all the harder when he learns his youngest child, his only daughter, also has decided to try to be a Poet, a task of which she is most certainly incapable…

This is a scathing piece, a refreshing attack on sexism.  I'd give it higher marks if it had included even one poem, given the theme, but I still quite liked it.

Four stars.

The Power of Progression, by Isaac Asimov

The Good Doctor explains why our current rate of population growth cannot go on—even if we manage to get off planet, that just means the universe will be clogged with humanity within the millennium. 

I appreciate the doomsaying sentiment, but there comes a point when exponents become specious, a masturbatory effort in mathematics.

Three stars.

Copstate, by Ron Goulart

I used to like the tales of Ben Jolson, lead agent of the shapechanging Chameleon Corps, but they've gotten pretty tired of late.  This last entry is the least.  Ben is tapped to infiltrate a tightly controlled security state to retrieve a revolutionary polemic.

Goulart is capable of writing funny, light, riproaring stuff, but this one is just a bust.

Two stars.

The Flower Kid Cashes In, by George Malko

Item two in the cavalcade of anti-utopian incomprehensibility.  Per a conversation I recently had with David and Kris:

Me: Can anyone explain the last story in this month's F&SF to me?
David: Not really.  Aging hippie survives after the Bomb falls and sort of commits suicide by staying true to his priniciples?  I think it was too concerned with being literary to mean something or be about anything.
Kris: I am not even sure if it is trying to be literary so much as "with it".  But either way it seems very hollow.

Your guess is as good as mine.  At least it's short.  Two stars.

The Body Count

Comparing the lastest F&SF to the Biafran tragedy is probably beyond the realm of good taste.  I'll just note that 2.7 stars is an inauspicious sign.  However, given that the first few issues of the year were significantly better, I don't think this lapse foretells a permanent downturn.

At least some things are salvageable.  See you next month.






[April 24, 1969] The Strange New Normal New Worlds, May 1969


by Mark Yon

Scenes from England

Hello again!

With this issue of New Worlds, number 190, we now seem to be getting back to a regular monthly schedule and the new style seems to be bedding itself down into a regular format – although this being New Worlds I suspect that they would hate any hint of things becoming routine.

Quick recap, then. Recently Charles Platt and Michael Moorcock stepped away from full-time editorial duties, leaving the magazine in the capable hands of Langdon-Jones. His first issue last month was a corker, with the first publication of a Harlan Ellison story in Britain (although to be fair I had read some of his other work published in the American magazines beforehand.) As a result, the new mantra seems to be that New Worlds even though under new management will continue to publish cutting edge, controversial material that defies borders and descriptions.

Each issue seems to continue a confounding mixture of good, bad and weird prose, not to mention poetry. Its appeal to me seems to be that I never quite know what I’m going to get next, although with the poetry I have a fairly good (or is that bad?) idea.

Anyway, on to this month’s issue. 

A picture of a head in black, with a blue background. The head is facing towards the reader in the middle with the two images either side facing outwards.Cover by Gabi Nasemann

We’re back to the odd pictures of people’s faces on the cover this month.

Lead-In by The Publishers

As is usual, information is given on the contributors. This month, Harvey Jacobs, Brian Aldiss, poet Libby Houston, science editor Dr. Christopher Evans, his secretary Jackie Wilson and a photo of author Marek Obtuowicz without any further detail.

The Moment of Eclipse by Brian W Aldiss

A black and white photo of a woman’s head but split horizontally across the eyeline to create a mirror image above.Photo by Gabi Nasemann

The Lead In tells us that Brian’s latest offering was inspired by Thomas Hardy’s Poem Inspired by a Lunar Eclipse written in 1902.

This however is a more contemporary work, about a modern film maker and his pursuit of Christiania, a woman he has met, despite the fact that she is married and with a son. So, a story of lust, combined with Aldiss’s quirky humour and his love of global places that we have read before – not to mention a parasitical worm that will frighten any devotees of Frank Herbert’s Dune!

I liked this generally – mainly because it shows Aldiss’s precise and illustrative prose without so much of the oddness exhibited in his recent Charteris stories. 3 out of 5.

The Negotiators by Harvey Jacobs

A black and white drawing of soldiers being bombed by aeroplanes.Image by Mal Dean

This story is set in Vietnam as a dialogue between two negotiators hoping to cease the conflict there. Whilst the two characters grow closer, the war continues. A story that through vivid imagery and prose, at times sexual, basically suggests that war is bad, but that love may bring peace, or at least agreement. 4 out of 5.

Article: The Responsive Environment by Charles Platt

Platt interviews Keith Albarn, an architectural artist who makes furniture and buildings that adapt and can be rebuilt to individual needs. These range from a funfair in Margate to theatre design, educational toys, and a fun palace in Girvan, Scotland.

A plan, with a key of the Girvan Fun Palace, designed by Albarn.A map of the Girvan Fun Palace, Image by Unknown

3 out of 5.

A Cure for Cancer (Part 3 of 4) by Michael Moorcock
IMAGE: A drawing of tilt-wing turboprop aeroplane taking off into the air above a clifftop. On the cliff we have a rabbit and a North American Indian on horseback shaking their fists at the rising aeroplane. On the bottom right of the picture we have Bishop Beesley on a boat also shaking his fist at the plane.
Image by Mal Dean

More fractured escapades with Jerry Cornelius. Much of this part has Jerry travelling the world in search of the missing techno-wotsit. Really though this gives Moorcock a chance to show us the world, from his own street of Ladbroke Grove, London, to trendy Soho and the King’s Road, Chelsea before going on to other places such as Las Vegas and Sumatra.

Cornelius meets his brother Frank again (last seen in the March 1966 issue of New Worlds as part of The Final Programme novel) and sister Catherine, in suspended animation, but really the story appears to mainly be a minor point whilst we examine the setting of a free world in decline. Most of these places have been bombed, London has an air-strike whilst Jerry is in it, Americans are filling the world with ‘advisors’ whilst dealing with civil riots of its own on home territory.

Things begin to make more sense and there’s a feeling that we might be drawing things to a close, as Jerry and the missing machine that he is in search of may be either the cause of the world chaos or the person most effective in having to deal with it. 4 out of 5.

Poems by Libby Houston

IMAGE: A drawing of an hourglass on a checkered ground. There is fluid coming out of the bottom of the hourglass and a fly and a beetle sat on top of it.Image by Mal Dean

First thought: What must a young woman do to get published in New Worlds magazine? Write poetry, it seems, or be married to the magazine illustrator. (That is unfair, I know. New Worlds has championed women’s writing for years now, when they can get it.)

Six short poems here, and as such – they fill up space unremarkably. (Do bear in mind that I still find most poetry uninteresting, though.) At least they’re not written by the seemingly ubiquitous D. M. Thomas this month. 2 out of 5.

the hurt by Marek Obtuowicz

PHOTO: An image of a man’s face, distorted through glass.Photo by Gabi Nasemann

A new author. Sadly, this is one of those stories designed to try and shock without any real involvement on the part of the reader and filled with symbolism that seems meaningless.

Mostly dialogue based, it is a number of conversations between Peter and his sister, Pauline. Unsurprisingly, they discuss their lives in a depressingly bleak future, a world where sex seems meaningless and crying is forbidden. Perhaps even more unsurprisingly, Pauline is a brothel-owner and Peter and Pauline have an incestuous sexual relationship.

There’s something in there about emotional hurt being caused by events in the past, but I was too bored to look at it in detail. 2 out of 5.

The Dreams of the Computer by Dr. Christopher Evans and Jackie Wilson

IMAGE: A page of the story, as set out in computer code.

Written as if a computer programme, filled with lots of “Answer Yes or No” and “Go to” statements, Dr. Evans, with the help of his secretary, responds in kind to J. G. Ballard’s prose story, How Dr. Christopher Evans Landed on the Moon in issue 187 (February 1969) of New Worlds. I liked it. There’s a nice sense of absurd humour in it, but it loses some of its impact by being not as original as the Ballard version. I am also not sure it makes sense if you’ve not seen Ballard’s original piece. 3 out of 5.

A bumper crop of reviews this month, though most are not science fiction-related.

Book Reviews: Back in the U.S.S.R. by R. Glynn Jones

R. Glynn Jones reviews Art and Revolution, a book about the work of Russian sculptor Neivestny, whose opposition to Kruschev has made him a heroic and revolutionary symbol.

Book Reviews: Twilight Crucifixion of the Beastly Black Sheep by M. John Harrison

Harrison reviews The Spook Who Sat by the Door, a polemic book about a Black CIA officer which is “an incitement to riot”, Behold the Man by Michal Moorcock (which we reviewed here when it was a serial story), The Twilight of the Vilp by Paul Ableman, which is “weary, contrived and too long”, Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep by Philip K Dick, a novel which is “beautifully constructed yet disappointing”, and the wonderfully titled The Beastly Beatitudes of Balthazar B, which is “moderately enjoyable”.

Book Reviews: Notes on the Management of a Spoiled Identity by Bob Marsden

Marsden reviews a book on the theory of game-play, a book on psychological theories and stratagems and a book on the discrepancy between what people think a person should be and what they really are. Nothing really of interest to me there. Moving on…

Book Reviews: From Alice with Malice by James Cawthorn

At last: Cawthorn reviews what we would broadly describe as fantasy and science fiction! Black Alice will be of interest here as it is written by two New Worlds regulars, Thomas M. Disch and John T. Sladek. Perhaps unsurprisingly, it is well-received. So too a number of books by Michael Moorcock, including The Jewel in the Skull, The Ice Schooner and The Mad God’s Amulet. He then reviews a “disappointing” SF novel for younger readers, Undersea City by Frederik Pohl and Jack Williamson, and the “fairly entertaining” Twin Planets by Philip E. High. Lastly, and then rather oddly, Cawthorn reviews a book on rural uprisings in pre-Victorian England – who says New Worlds lacks diversity?

Book Reviews: Against the Juggernaut by John Clute

John Clute is a new reviewer here, although he has had fiction published in New Worlds before (A Man Must Die, November 1966.) Here he reviews a “simply godawful” book of poetry, Juggernaut by Barry McSweeney, a book by a new African writer who Clute describes as “an intelligent and urbane civil servant and diplomat, but a lame writer”, a novel about a group of Americans who translate the Oberammergau Passion Play into English and put it on in Texas as making the reviewer feel as if they had “just been forced to eat yesterday’s newspaper” and a detailed review on a book about the philosophy of Jean Paul Satre. They may not be books I would ever want to read myself, but at least the reviewer is entertaining.

Book Reviews: The Nondescript Heroes by Charles Platt

Platt reviews the autobiographical Gemini! by the recently-departed Apollo astronaut Virgil Grissom. He is disappointed by the book’s blandness and superficiality, eventually concluding that such an exciting and technological advancement is not served well by such pilots of limited expression.

An advertisement for New Worlds binders, showing the binder, both open and closed.

Summing up New Worlds

Well, if New Worlds is all about ‘cutting edge, controversial material that defies borders and descriptions’, then this issue isn’t it. In fact, it is a solid yet rather conventional issue – admittedly conventional for New Worlds. There’s no photos of naked ladies, relatively little sex (although there is some – this is New Worlds, after all!) and stories that now seem rather typical of the new style of New Worlds.

In short, it is pretty much what to expect from the magazine, which is not a bad thing, but rather unmemorable, as it is not as determined to startle as some previous editions have been.

The most memorable thing about the issue is the new reviewer John Clute, who seems to be here to stir things up a little, although I do find it amusing to see both recently-retired editors Platt and Moorcock appearing in issues writing fiction and articles. Still around and not forgotten.

Anyway, that’s it, until next time.





[April 8, 1969] Distractions (May 1969 Galaxy)

photo of a man with glasses and curly, long, brown hair, and a beard and mustache
by Gideon Marcus

Instant Classic

There are few expressions as irritating to me as the oxymoronic "Modern Classic"…but I have to admit that the shoe sometimes fits.

Mario Puzo's third novel, The Godfather, came out last month, and I can't put it down.  It's not a small book—some 446 pages—but those pages turn like no one's business.  It's the story of Vito Corleone, a Sicilian who arrives in the country around the turn of the Century and slowly, but inexorably, becomes crime boss of Manhattan. 

The Mafia has had a particular allure of late.  LIFE just had a long bit on the recent death of Vito Genovese and the current scramble to replace him as head of the Genovese family.  For those who want a (seemingly accurate) introduction to the underworld of organized crime, The Godfather makes a terrific primer.

Bloody, pornographic, blunt, but also detailed and even, in its own way, scholarly, The Godfather is a book you can't put down. 

Which is a problem when you're supposed to get through a stack of science fiction magazines every month.  Indeed, how is a somewhat long-in-the-tooth, middle-of-the-road mag like Galaxy, especially this latest issue, supposed to compete?


by Vaughn Bodé

Little Blue Hawk, by Sydney J. Van Scyoc

Imagine an America generations from now, after eugenics has gone awry.  After some initial promising results, a significant number of humans became dramatically mutated, with profound physical and mental variations accompanied by even more pronounced neuroses.  Over time, these mutants have mingled with baseline humans, spreading their traits.

This is the story of Kert Tahn, a wingless hawk of a man, who bears a weighty set of obsessions and compulsions, as well as a dandy case of synesthesia: to him, words are crystalline, shattering into dust and leaving a pall over everything.  An urban "Special Person", plucked as an infant from one of the rural Special Person-only communities, he harbors a strong urge to fly, which is why he takes up a job as a hover-disc pilot, ferrying customers out into the hinterlands now reserved for the genetically modified.  "Little Blue Hawk" is a series of encounters with a variety of more-or-less insane individuals, and how each helps him on his road to self-discovery.


by Reese

There are elements I really liked in this story.  Though the causes of neuroses are genetic, it is clear Van Scyoc is making a statement—and an aspirational prediction—as to how mental illnesses might be accommodated rather than simply cured…or its sufferers tucked away.  All Special Persons have the constitutional right to have their compulsions respected, and they are listed on a prominent medallion each of them wears.  Of course, this leads to a mixture of both care by and disdain from the "normal" population.

I also thought that a set of neurotic compulsions actually makes for a dandy thumbnail sketch of an alien race—a set of traits that make no sense but are nevertheless consistent,

The problem with this story is simply that it's kind of dull and doesn't do much.  I found myself taking breaks every five pages or so.  With the Puzo constantly emanating its bullet-drenched sirensong, it was slow going, indeed.

Two stars.

The Open Secrets, by Larry Eisenberg

A fellow accidentally enters into his timeshare terminal the password for the FBI's internal files.  Now that he has access to all the country's secrets, he becomes both extremely powerful…and extremely marked.

Frivolous, but not terrible.  Two stars.

Star Dream, by Terry Carr and Alexei Panshin

On the eve of the flight of the first starship Gaea, its builder finds out why he was fired just before its completion.  The answer takes some of the sting from being ejected from the vessel's crew.

This old-fashioned tale is rather mawkish and probably would have served better as the backbone of a juvenile novel, but it's not poorly written.

Three stars.

Coloured Element, by William Carlson and Alice Laurance

A new measles vaccine is dumped willy-nilly into the water supply, not for its salutory benefits, but for a side effect—it turns everyone primary colors based on their blood type!  Ham-handed social commentary is delivered in this rather slight piece.

Two stars.

Killerbot!, by Dean R. Koontz

The mindless, cybernetic monsters from Euro are on the rampage in Nortamer, and it's up to the local law enforcement to dispatch the latest killer.  The new model has got a twist—human cunning.  But when the monster is taken down, the revelation is enough to rock society.

What seems like a rather pointless exercise in violent adventure turns out to be (I think) a commentary on the recent rash of gun violence—from the murder of JFK to the Austin tower shootings.  It's not a terrific piece, but I appreciate what it's trying to do.

Three stars.

For Your Information: Max Valier and the Rocket-Propelled Airplane, by Willy Ley

I was just giving a lecture on rocketry pioneers at the local university the other day, and Max Valier was one of the notables I mentioned.  Of course, I assumed from the name that he was French.  He was not.  That fact, and many others, can be found in this fascinating piece by Willy Ley on a man most associated with the rocket car that killed him.

Four stars.

A Man Spekith, by Richard Wilson


by Peñuñuri

The last man on Earth is Edwards James McHenry—better known by his DJ monicker, Jabber McAbber.  Well, he's not actually on Earth; right before the calamity that ripped the planet asunder, a Howard Hughes look-alike ensconced him in an orbital trailer with a broadcaster, a thousand gallons of bourbon, and a record collection.  Unbenownst to him, Ed also has a mechanical sidekick called Marty, a computer with colloquial intelligence.

Thus, while Ed more-or-less drunkenly transmits an unending, lonely monologue to the universe, Marty provides a broadcast counterpoint, explaining the subtext and background to Ed's plight and thoughts.

It all reads like something Harlan Ellison might have put together, a little less dirtily, perhaps.  Hip and readable.  Four stars.

The Man Inside, by Bruce McAllister

A henpecked father has gone catatonic with stress, but a new technique may be able to interpret his internal monologue.  The result is suitably tragic.

Pretty neat; perhaps the best thing Bruce has turned in so far, but it leaves a bad taste in the mouth.  Three stars.

And Now They Wake (Part 3 of 3), by Keith Laumer


by Jack Gaughan

At last, we reach the action-packed conclusion of this three-part serial.  All the pieces are in motion: both Loki and 'Thor, immortal soldiers in an ages-long intergalactic war, who have been at each other's throats for 1200 years, are trudging through the rain for the runaway broadcast power facility on the Northeastern American seaboard.

As the Army tries and fails to bring the powerplant under control, the hurricane in the Atlantic intensifies.  Meanwhile, we learn what the other unauthorized power-tapper is: none other than Loki's autonomous spaceship, Xix, which is charging its own batteries pending the unhatching of a terrible scheme.  The climax of the novel is suitably climactic.

Laumer writes in two modes: satirical and deadly serious.  And Now They Wake is firmly in the second camp, grim to the extreme.  But it is also very human, very immediate, and, even with the graphic violence depicted, very engrossing.  This is the closest I've seen Laumer come to Ted White's style, really engaging the senses such that you inhabit the bodies of the characters, but without an offputting degree of detail (even the gory bits are imaginative and non-repetitive.)

It's not a novel for the ages, and the tie-in to Norse mythology is a bit pat, but this is probably the best Laumer I've ever read, and the one piece that actually made me forget about The Godfather…for a few minutes, anyway.

Four stars.

Back to (un)reality

The first half of this month's Galaxy was certainly a slog, but at least the latter half kept my interest—if only I hadn't started from the end first!  That's a bad habit I may have to overcome.  I just like seeing the number of pages I have to read dwindle, and that gets easier to mark if you read in reverse order!

Anyway, the bottom line is that Pohl's mag will win no awards on the strength of this month's ish, but Puzo's book may very well.  Pick up The Godfather right now…and maybe the Laumer when it's put into book form!






[April 6, 1969] The Weight of History (May 1969 IF)


by David Levinson

A simmering conflict

There’s trouble brewing in the east. The border between the Soviet Union and China has long been a point of contention, going back over 100 years when the Czars imposed a border treaty on a weakened imperial China. All the socialist brotherhood in the world wasn’t enough to fix the problem in the post-War years (admittedly, the Nationalist government complicated things), and things haven’t gotten better since the Sino-Soviet split.

An agreement was almost reached 1964, but some impolitic comments by Mao got out and prompted Khrushchev to block the deal. Sino-Soviet relations got very tense during the Soviet invasion of Czechoslovakia last summer, and the Chinese have been poking at the border, seemingly trying to get the Soviets to overreact.

The chief hot spot has been a small island in the Ussuri river claimed by both sides. Called Chenpao by the Chinese and Damansky by the Russians, it’s only 0.29 square miles; that’s a little over 185 acres or 17.5 American football fields. On March 2nd, a Chinese force surprised (or ambushed, depending on who you ask) a Soviet force on the island. After fierce fighting, both sides declared victory and withdrew. On the 15th, the Chinese shelled the island, pushing the Soviets back, but the afternoon saw a Soviet counterattack with tanks and mechanized infantry, which drove the Chinese off the island. The next day, the Soviets returned to recover their dead, which the Chinese allowed, but when they tried to recover a disabled T-62 tank (one of their newer models) the day after that, they were driven off by Chinese artillery. On the 21st, the Soviets sent a demolition team to destroy the tank, but the Chinese drove them back and recovered the tank themselves.

A map showing the location of Chenpao/Damansky Island

China is reportedly ignoring diplomatic overtures by the Soviets, and the situation remains tense. There are signs that China is preparing for a potential invasion by the Soviets, but the U.S.S.R. seems less inclined to escalate. It’s easy enough to want to sit back and watch a couple of powers hostile to the West fight, but both sides have the Bomb, and even a limited nuclear exchange could have severe consequences for the northern hemisphere.

Chinese soldiers pose with their captured Russian tank

Confronting the past

Though set in the future, most of the stories in this month’s IF have characters dealing with the events of the past. Or even experiencing them. But first a word about the art.

The cover illustrates Groovyland and is credited as courtesy of Three Lions, Inc., but see below

From what I can find out, Three Lions is a photo agency. If you want a picture of a boy eating ice cream or someone famous (they have a large collection of JFK photos from before he ran for president), they’ll license one to you. Apparently, they’re branching out into art. This is a reasonable illustration for the Bloch story in this issue, and I suspect Bloch used it as inspiration for his story. However, it was originally done by Johnny Bruck for the German magazine Perry Rhodan #216. If that name sounds familiar, it’s because Bruck’s work has been repurposed many times as cover art for Amazing and Fantastic. I hope Galaxy Publishing isn’t going down the same road.

Here’s the original art by Johnny Bruck.

Groovyland, by Robert Bloch

An out of work screenwriter runs into a young woman at the employment office who offers him a place to stay. On the way back to her place, they hit a little green man, who says he’s here to conquer the world.  When they find out he can replicate any song he hears once, including harmonies and instruments, they and their housemates offer to help him. Things kick off at the titular Groovyland, a theme park in the desert west of Los Angeles. Unfortunately, everybody has their own agenda.

The entrance to one of Groovyland’s main attractions. Art by Gaughan

Humor is subjective, and I said in the teaser last month that I find Bloch’s humor to be hit or miss. Never before have I read a story, even a much shorter story than this, where almost every paragraph expects a rimshot. And the paragraphs that don’t want a rimshot are more than made up for by those that want multiple rimshots. Some of the satire works, a couple of the band names are mildly amusing, and there’s a decent story in there somewhere, but it’s all drowned out by jokes that deserve a chorus of boos and a hail of rotten vegetables.

Barely three stars.

If… and When, by Lester del Rey

This month, del Rey looks at the way the growth of scientific knowledge has gradually depopulated the science fiction solar system. In doing so, he also looks at the sort of things life needs to flourish, not just air and water, but energy as well. Luckily, it’s almost certain that life exists somewhere in the galaxy.

Three stars.

Mad Ship, by C.C. MacApp

Aboard a generation ship on its way to a distant star, something went horribly wrong (as things tend to in science fiction stories) and the personalities of various crew members that had been transcribed in to the ship’s computers fought a war among themselves. The people of Sinus B only have contact with the personality of Captain Gerlik who is mad, but keeps them alive. Now Pryboy Thorp finds himself making a perilous journey to the Nose Cone, for what reason he isn’t sure.

Pry makes a mad dash past a pairbot under the mad captain’s control. Art by Fedak

MacApp is a pretty good writer, and stories like this make me regret all the time he wasted on those awful Gree stories (some of which actually weren’t bad, and there weren’t anywhere near as many of them as loom in my memory). This is one of his better tales. Its biggest flaw is the description of the ship; I never felt like I understood how things were laid out. However, that doesn’t detract much from the enjoyment of the story.

A high three stars, falling just short of four.

Spork and the Beast, by Perry Chapdelaine

Spork is a human raised among the alien Ayor, whom he guided to a new way of living in the previous story. The crash of a ship bearing other humans leads to the Ayor exploring their solar system and encountering a grave danger on one of the inner planets.

Spork and one of the Ayor have lost their ship. Art by Reese

The adventures of Spork continue, and it looks like there’s more coming. The comparison to Tarzan is inevitable, but it’s Tarzan written by A.E. van Vogt in one of his more esoteric moods. If that sounds interesting to you, you might enjoy it. Unfortunately, neither of those things appeals to me very much, the combination even less so.

A low three stars.

Destroyer, by Robert Weinberg

The Horsemen of the Apocalypse ride again, and Destruction is their fifth. Or is that an illusion created to keep the mind of a man implanted into a killing machine sane and functioning?

Making his first professional sale, Bob Weinberg is an active fan with a special interest in the pulps. You may have encountered the reader’s guides he created last year for the works of Lovecraft and Robert E. Howard. His freshman effort feels more like Zelazny than the pulps, but there’s a bit of Howard woven in there, too. It’s a good start, and I look forward to more from him.

A high three stars.

Toys of Tamisan (Part 2 of 2), by Andre Norton

In Part 1, dreamer Tamisan took Lord Starrex and his cousin Kas into a dream based on an alternative version of the history of their world. Unable to break the dream without both companions, she found Starrex, but now Kas is not where they expected to find him. She will have to enter a dream within a dream, in the hope of getting them all home.

Starrex fights to keep Tamisan safe while she tries to break the dream. Art by Adkins

I said last month that I’m not a fan of this kind of story, and this didn’t do anything to change my mind. It’s not Norton; give me some Time Traders or the Solar Queen, and I’ll happily read it. Even so, this is objectively not one of her better works. It’s never made clear whether they’re in a dream or have slipped into a parallel world, and the answer to that question has a big effect on the meaning of the ending. At least, apart from that issue, Norton writes well and entertainingly.

A low three stars.

Authorgraphs: An Interview with Lester del Rey

This month’s interview must have been easy to get, since del Rey is right there in the office. He expounds on his career, science fiction in general, critics, TV and movies. But Lester, you’re too young to be such a curmudgeon.

Three stars.

Portrait by Gaughan

Summing up

IF continues rolling down the middle of the road. Even that’s shaky. The three longest pieces are a low three stars at best. At least we got a good, if not great, MacApp story and a very promising new writer, if he’s not another one-shot wonder as so many of the IF firsts have been.

A new Reynolds novel could go either way, but that title invites comparisons to Heinlein.






[April 4, 1969] Hey, Mack! (April 1969 Analog)

photo of a man with glasses and curly, long, brown hair, and a beard and mustache
by Gideon Marcus

Mars ho!

Well, this is exciting!  For the first time ever, two identical Mariner probes are on their way to an interstellar destination.  On March 27, Mariner 7 blasted off for Mars, joining its sister, Mariner 6, which was launched last month

black and white photograph of an Atlas-Agena taking off from Cape Canaveral

Normally, twin probes are launched for redundancy, and it's a good thing.  Venus-boundMariner 1 died when its booster exploded back in '62.  Mars-bound Mariner 3 never hatched from its egg (the shroud of its Atlas-Agena rocket) back in 1964.  Mariner 5, which went to Venus in 1967, was a solo mission (indeed, a spare Mariner of the 3/4 class).

But now we've got two Mariners winging their way to the Red Planet, which means we'll get twice the coverage and a redundant set of data, always a welcome occurrence for scientists!  We'll have more on them when they pass by Mars in July.

Mack ho!

cover illustration of two white-suited futuristic cops beating a red-suited man underneath a futuristic monorail
by Kelly Freas

Just as we have two Mariners dominating the head of this article, so we have science fictioneer Mack Reynolds dominating this latest issue of Analog science fiction.  Under his own name, and under his pseudonym "Guy McCord", more than half of this issue is a Reynolds contribution.  If you like the guy, you'll like the mag.  If not…

The Five Way Secret Agent (Part 1 of 2), by Mack Reynolds

black and white illustration of a suited man on a pedestal facing five sinister figures, one a futuristic cop with a whip, one holding a gun, one with both, a woman with a hoop, and a bald man with his hand on his hips
by Kelly Freas

We once again return to the Reynolds' late 20th Century, where America languishes under the stratified People's Capitalism.  This novel is also the second adventure of one of the last private detectives, Rex Bader (whose first job was just a couple of months ago.  As with that freshman outing, Bader is offered a job that seems too good to be true, and he refuses, but no one else buys that he did.

In this case, the job was offered by the head of one of the world's biggest corporations.  He wants Bader to go to cross the Iron Curtain to contact other corporation buffs so as to help take down the Meritocracy—the powers that be that have entrenched themselves in the highest levels of society.

The mob also contacts Bader, wanting him to be their double agent.  Then the Defense Department gets involved.  Finally, a group of latter-day Technocrats make their pitch.  Presumably, the "fifth way" will be Rex Bader's own.

This book is typical Reynolds: the setting has been well established over the years, all the way back to the Joe Mauser, Mercenary days.  There are historical dissertations woven in at every opportunity, mostly on early 20th Century political theory.  The writing is serviceable, somewhat wry—a more grounded Keith Laumer.

What makes this particular piece stand out are the new wrinkles Reynolds introduces.  First, this is the first time we've learned how elections work in this world: it's based on income—one vote for every dollar earned (investment income does not impart voting rights).  Thus, the masses on "Negative Income Tax" have no franchise.

Reynolds continues to invent plausible future technology, too.  My favorite is the pocket TV/phone/credit card/identity all citizens carry.  A handy device, but also vulnerable to surveillance—which is done by computers which listen for key words; if they hear any, they alert a government agent.

So on the one hand, as far as quality of writing and enjoyment is concerned, I'd give this piece three stars.  But I admire Reynolds for doing stuff few others do, so I'm actually awarding four.

Hey But No Presto, by Jack Wodhams

black and white illustration of a short, ruddy man entreating a young man looking askance with hands at his sides, an image of him seated, eyes closed, in the background
by Leo Summers

Folks are being snatched out of psionic teleportation booths as they try to go to Earth.  They get sent to this backwater planetary resort where they are charged outrageous rates to stay in mediocre lodgings.  They stay because the cost to go home is set even higher.  An interstellar cop is sent to investigate.

This one-note tale is so padded, it could replace a warehouse of pillows.  One star.

They're Trying to Tell Us Something (Part 2 of 2), by Thomas R. McDonough

photo from below of a hard-hatted worker atop a radio telescope grid

Last month, Tom McDonough talked about pulsars—those rapidly beeping star-type objects—and did his darndest to convince us that they are artificial beacons operated by Little Green Men (LGM).

This second part is more of the same, though he actually does mention other possibilities, including the most fashionable one that they are rotating neutron stars.  My problem with this segment is it is heavy on the layman's lingo and light on the showing of work.  It all feels a bit fluffy.  Also, he talks about how pulsars emit light bursts at twice the frequency as their radio bursts, and he makes it seem like that's mysterious.  If the pulsar is really a rotating neutron star, then it makes sense for any emissions to be linked.  Why we only get radio signals from one side, I don't understand off the top of my head, but I suspect anyone with a Bachelors in Physics could tell me.

Three stars.

Cultural Interference, by Walter L. Kleine

black and white illustration of a flying saucer careening toward a planet, with inserts of a mustached man looking at a naked woman helping a naked man out of the saucer on the surface, a man in a cowboy hat with a sheriff's star, and two lab-coated men looking at a giant, narrow monolith
by Leo Summers

A couple of scientists begin an experiment with broadcast power.  Coincidentally, a couple of extraterrestrial spaceships accidentally intercept and soak up the power, causing them to crash.  Chaos ensues.

Wireless power seems to be the rage these days, figuring prominently in Keith Laumer's serial, And Now They Wake.  This particular tale is overpadded and pointless.

Two stars.

Opportunist, by Guy McCord

black and white illustration of a seated, wizened man wearing a Native American outfit done in tartan, a rock hut in the background
by Kelly Freas

This is the third tale of Caledonia, a backwards planet probably in the same universe as his United Planets tales in which every world has its own uniquely evolved political and social structure.  Caledonians all hail from a single crashed colony ship, and their culture is a mix of Scots and indigenous American, based on the few books that survived planetfall (shades of Star Trek's "A Piece of the Action".

In this installment, Caledonia has been largely subjugated by mining concerns from Sidon, and the native Caledonians must resort to guerrila tactics.  John of the Hawks, Chief Raid Cacique of the Loch Confederation is captured by the Sidonians and offered a job in their civilian government.  After being told the virtues of civilization and capitalism, he decides to hang up his claidheamhor and war bonnet and sell out.

I din't like it.  Two stars.

Oh ho!

three women operate a room full of line printers somewhere in the Soviet Union

Well now, here is a case of science fiction definitely being less compelling than science.  With the exception of the serial, this was a drab ish, barely scoring 2.7.  This puts Analog under Fantasy and Science Fiction (3), IF (3.1), Galaxy (3.5), and New Worlds (3.6).  Campbell's mag only beat out the usual losers: Fantastic (2.5), Famous #8 (1.8), and Famous #9 (2).

From eight mags, you could barely fill two big ones with the good stories this month, although part of the reason for that is Famous being so awful.  Women produced just 7% of the new fiction stories this month. 

I guess the moral is: read your newspapers and your Pohl (and UK) mags first.  Pick up Analog only if you've finished the rest.  Or if you really like Mack Reynolds…






[March 8, 1969] Around the Universe (April 1969 Galaxy)


by Gideon Marcus

Around the World

Richard Nixon, 37th President of the United States, is back from a tour of Europe.  All of his visits made headlines, particularly when he went to the Vatican and a couple hundred students held signs that said, "Nixon go home!"

Hey now—we don't want him either!

The Dick met with the "Jesus of the Franks", General DeGaulle, for a high profile religious summit.  Our President failed to return with the next Ten Commandments nor a commitment to allow Britain into the European Community (much less France's return to NATO).

Nixon is now back in the States.  Apparently, Jack Benny managed to buy more than a gallon of gas at Texaco since he made it all the way to Andrews Air Force Base to amuse the President upon his return.  Well, maybe the air fare was on the country's dime.

newspaper photo of a profile of a laughing Richard Nixon, his wife smiling full-face to his left

One of the places Nixon did not stop, but sent a staffer in his stead, was the funeral of Israeli Prime Minister Levi Eshkol.  The Jewish leader's death was rather a surprise, and his interim replacement is something of a dark horse: 70 year old foreign minister Golda Meir.  She is the first woman leader of the Jewish state, and one of the few female national leaders this century.  It is possible she will step down in favor of her party confederate Yigal Allon when he stands for the next regular election against conservative rival General Moshe Dayan.

newspaper photo of Golda Meir's face—she is an elderly, Jewish woman with dark hair, bushy eyebrows, and a big nose; she is wryly smiling

Into the wild Blue/Black yonder

As I type this, Apollo 9 is currently in orbit, its crew practicing a series of maneuvers that will be duplicated on this summer's trip to the Moon.  It's sort of like a Gemini training mission (two of the astronauts, Scott and McDivitt, are Gemini veterans) but with Apollo hardware.  It is fitting, therefore, that the latest issue of Galaxy deals with space in almost all of its stories:

cover painting of a spaceship descending on a planetoid, a wary-looking, bipedal alien looking up at it
by Reese

Witch Hunt, James E. Gunn

line drawing of two bearded and mustached men in 17th Century outfits dueling with swords
by Adkins

Centuries after a nuclear apocalypse, the Earth's four billions reduced to just one hundred million, humanity lives in a patchwork of low-technology communities.  There are the farmers, who make up the vast majority; the villagers who comprise a rude middle class; the Luddites, barbarians who plunder, mostly for fun; the arrogant Neo-Scientists, who enslave many so that a few may reconstruct the wisdom of the past; and the Empires—petty states whose influence extends no further than their capital regions.

And there are the witch-doctors, who use "magic" to heal and educate, and the pilgrims, who seek the truth.  "Witch Hunt" is the tale of two such pilgrims, their tour of America's degraded communities, and a survey of their relative merits and lacks.  Of course, the story reveals the truth they have been searching for.

There is more than a whiff of Silverberg's Nightwings serial here, and while the prose is not quite so beautiful, it is serviceable.

Four stars.

Beam Us Home, James Tiptree, Jr.

Hobie was a precocious child whose life was irrevocably influenced by Star Trek, though the TV show is never mentioned by name. 

A successful teen and, later, frustrated serviceman, he can't shake the feeling that he is somehow separate from the human race.  The story's conclusion bears much in common with that of "Witch Hunt". I wonder if putting thematically-similar stories together was deliberate or coincidental?

Something about this story reminds me a bit of the works in our Rediscovery anthologies, or perhaps a bit of the works in the fanzines. In particular, the focus on Trek and also the fact that the protagonist is a minor for much of the piece set it apart from many of the stories we encounter regularly.  I had to check the byline to make sure it wasn't by Evelyn E. Smith, or Rosel George Brown, or Zenna Henderson, for example. 

As a whole the story isn't bad, but unfortunately, Tiptree botches the end. Three stars.

How Like a God, Robert Bloch

line drawing of a tailed, bipedal alien looking into what appears to be the heart of a giant cave or geode
by Reese

Pride goeth before a fall: Mok is an incorporeal being who refused to surrender his personality to the group; as a consequence, the divine Ser confines him to an alien, physical body and banishes him to a planet of primitives.  There, Mok becomes a kind of Prometheus, elevating the aborigines' culture and technology.  But is Mok a God…or a serpent in the garden?

Kind of a neat piece.  I think it falls on the lower side of the three/four star divide.

Buckets of Diamonds, Clifford D. Simak

line drawing of a man holding a set of pipes approaching a pile of electronic junk; someone is throwing a bucket of diamonds on the pile
by Reese

Simak loves to write "pastoral science fiction" set in his stomping grounds of Minnesota, and so, "Buckets of Diamonds" reads a bit like The Andy Griffith Show meets The Twilight Zone.  Drunk Uncle Charlie gets locked up in the pokey one day when he is found staggering down the street, an Old Master's canvas under one arm, and carrying a bucket of diamonds.  Later, he disappears from jail and turns up driving a hovercar alongside a sour-faced alien…who presently encourages all of the citizenry to dispose of their technological gadgets!

All of this is much to the chagrin of Charlie's nephew-in-law, a local attorney who must sort the mess out.

Not much to this tale, which ultimately doesn't go anywhere, or when.  Three stars.

Slave to Man, Sylvia Jacobs

Tony is an editor for one of those schlock-houses that produces "the sexies" (prurient pulps).  One day, he notices he's getting a lot of torn off covers from returns that say "Help!  Help!  I am being held in bondage!  I am only 15 years old!"

Who he finds when he seeks the poor soul out, and how said soul revolutionizes the sexies industry is both amusing and, perhaps, prescient.

Four stars.

And Now They Wake (Part 2 of 3), Keith Laumer

line drawing of a man hitting with a sledgehammer a collection of cylinders
by Jack Gaughan

The saga continues of two immortal aliens destined for a final confrontation somewhere in 21st Century America.  Last time, we learned that Gralgrathor had self-exiled from his stellar Federation to go native amongst medieval Vikings.  His confederate, Lokrien, murdered 'Thor's wife and child to incentivize his return to galactic civilization.

In this installment, Lokrien, now fully healed from vicious scars he carried for decades, is looking for 'Thor, who now goes by the name of Grayle.  Grayle, as you recall from last time, escaped from the Caine Island maximum security prison, where he had been languishing for over a century.  Both immortals have assistants: Lokrien's is a mercenary cabbie who is efficient with his fists; Grayle has picked up a lovely woman named Anne who insists on helping him despite not knowing the whole story.

Meanwhile, an enormous whirlpool is growing in the middle Atlantic, generating hurricane force winds across the hemisphere.  It seems to be powered by the newly online broadcast power plant on the Eastern seaboard.  Attempts to shut down the plant are all thwarted by some unknown force.  You can bet that the aliens are somehow involved, however…

Still interesting stuff.  Four stars.

For Your Information: The Drowned Civilization, Willy Ley

This month's article is a potpourri dedicated to three questions: 1) how easy would it be for a planet to capture a new moon, 2) how would the Earth's land contours change should the ice caps melt, and 3) what kind of creature is the biblical zaphan?

Three stars.

There and back again

Well, that was rather fun!  Nothing spectacular, but all in all, a rapid, enjoyable read.  Galaxy remains my favorite of the monthlies, and I can't wait to see how the Laumer turns out.  I am also happy to see that we're getting at least one woman writer each month again.  The magazine was at its best when that was the case back in the '50s, and Sylvia Jacobs turned in one of my favorites of the issue.

Until next time…keep up to date with Nixon on Laugh-In, and science fiction on the Journey!






[March 2, 1969] Dreams and reality (April 1969 IF)


by David Levinson

A different kind of colonialism

When the Indian subcontinent gained independence, the Muslim and Hindu regions went their separate ways, contrary to the hopes of Gandhi. Hundreds of thousands of people were displaced, and there have been several conflicts between India and Pakistan over the border. But there is another problem which is beginning to make itself felt.

There are two Muslim regions of the subcontinent separated by India, and so Pakistan is split into East and West Pakistan—but unlike East and West Germany, they are a united country. The west comprises the Punjab and points west to Afghanistan, while the east is made up of eastern Bengal and the Ganges delta. West Pakistan holds a majority of the population and almost all of the political power.

East Pakistanis have felt increasingly marginalized in the twenty-two years since independence. As an example, the only official language is the western Urdu, which uses the Arabic script, while Bengali, with its own script and long literary history, is ignored. Civil unrest in the east has grown, led by the Awami League under the leadership of Sheikh Mujibur Rahman. They aren’t asking for full independence, merely autonomy with Pakistan becoming a federation of two nations with joint defense and foreign policy.

President Ayub Khan’s rule is becoming increasingly shaky. It is widely believed that the 1965 election was fraudulent and he actually lost. The military now supports Zulifikar Ali Bhutto, and there have been massive student protests in the last couple of years. Ayub Khan thought he had a way to regain support, but it seems to have blown up in his face.

Ayub Khan greets LBJ in Karachi in 1967.

In January of last year, the government announced they had uncovered a plot for the secession of East Pakistan with the help of India. Over a thousand people were arrested, among them Sheikh Mujib. Originally, the plan was for a court-martial, but President Khan later opted for an open trial, perhaps thinking he could move public opinion his way before next year’s elections. As a result, the number of accused was reduced to 36.

The trial was set to begin in Dacca on February 6th, but public unrest resulted in a delay. Then on the 15th, Sergeant Zahurul Haq was shot and killed in his prison cell. When word got out, East Pakistan exploded. The rioters tried to set fire to the State Guest House where the judges and chief prosecutor were staying. The officials escaped, but some of the evidence was destroyed. A week later, the government dropped all charges, and the prisoners were released.

It’s a huge embarrassment for Ayub Khan, and it’s hard to see how he survives this politically. Meanwhile, Sheikh Mujib and the Awami League are riding high. Let’s hope that a peaceful resolution can be found.

Sheikh Mujib (center) emerges from prison.

Science fantasy

And now, this month's first magazine, featuring (like the Pakistans) a single entity with two names—Worlds of IF and Worlds of Tomorrow.

Once upon a time, the term science fantasy was another name for science fiction. These days, it usually refers to work that combines elements of both science fiction and fantasy. Spaceships and magic, that sort of thing. This month’s IF runs strongly in that direction, starting with a new serial from one of that movement’s most prominent authors.

Like I said, swords and spaceships. Art by Adkins

Toys of Tamisan (Part 1 of 2), by Andre Norton

At the urging of his cousin Kas, Lord Starrex buys Tamisan, a powerful action dreamer. Seeking to craft a dream that will impress a former adventurer, she hits on the idea of setting her creation in a place where the history of their city and world turned out differently. Before she can finalize her plans, Starrex demands her services, and Tamisan learns that both he and Kas will be sharing this dream, which has never been done before. The dream appears to be all too real, and Tamisan discovers that she can’t break out of it unless both of the other dreamers are with her. She finds Starrex, but Kas seems to be aboard the approaching spaceship. To be continued.

A spaceship approaches to meet a different welcome than it actually did. Art by Adkins

As you might expect from Norton, this is a well-written adventure, but it’s just not my cup of tea. The mix of science fiction and fantasy is similar to her Witch World books, and I haven’t really enjoyed those. The casual acceptance of Tamisan’s slavery—even if it’s not called that—is also very off-putting.

Three stars for now, but those who like this kind of thing might rate it higher.

Starbright, by E.G. Von Wald

Starbrights are gemstones that take ambient light and emit a color characteristic to the individual stone as long as the wavelength of the stone’s light is longer than that it takes in. Gem collector Sean Macnessa has come to the Aldebaran system, following a rumor of seven rare red starbrights. His search will involve him with local politics, a missing princess, and a Golden Ruberg.

The story is a trifling adventure tale, but it’s fun. It’s not overly long, the humor works, and the reader is given just enough information to work out the solution.

A solid three stars.

A Report on the Sixth International SF Film Festival, by Luigi Cozzi

What it says on the tin: a quick rundown of the festival held in Trieste, Italy. 2001 was naturally a big hit and the only film we covered here at the Journey. The big winner, though, was the British film The Sorcerers, which took awards for the film and its stars, Catherine Lacey and Boris Karloff (who died at the beginning of February).

Three stars.

That Season, by Lawrence Mayer

Humans are rare, maybe unique, among mammals in that they don’t have mating seasons in which females go into heat and males compete violently for access. But what if that changed? That’s the question new author Mayer asks, looking at the events right before, during, and immediately after one season a few generations after such a change. I’m not sure I agree with his conclusions—once could even argue he presents a best-case scenario—but he tells it well, particularly in exposition provided by showing us things rather than “As you know, Bob” conversations.

Three stars.

Spork of the Ayor, by Perry Chapdelaine

Expectations can have a large effect on how you feel about what you read. Where I grew up, “spork” was a humorous name for a spoon with tines on the end (spoon+fork=spork), so I was expecting a farce. Instead, Chapdelaine gives us a straightforward tale of a human raised among intelligent beings not of his kind, who must use his innate human skills to save his adoptive people.

Spork learns to use direct action against the Tepen. Art by Reese

From that picture and the title, you can probably tell that this is basically Tarzan, just with aliens and mental powers. It’s fairly typical of other Chapdelaine stories I’ve read: decently written, but much too long. From the loose threads at the end, it looks like we’ll be getting more. Unfortunately, I’ve never been a fan of Tarzan.

A low three stars.

If… and When, by Lester del Rey

This month, del Rey looks at the brain and sleep. He starts with electronarcosis, which may be able to cure insomnia and treat schizophrenia. He then discusses the idea of recording dreams and playing them back for others. Lester is making good use of his time in the Galaxy Publishing office. This is the third month in a row in which his article has directly referenced a story in the current issue of either IF or Galaxy. I like it; it gives the article a bit of extra relevance to the reader.

Three stars.

The Light Bearer, by William M. Lee

Pete Coghill is a biochemist with a knack for finding flaws in other people’s research. It hasn’t made him many friends, but management loves him. After accidentally dosing himself an LSD derivative, he has a strange encounter with a prominent scientist. It changes his life for the better, but he will have to pay for it one day.

This story isn’t what it looks like, or what Pete thinks it is. It’s actually quite fun and turns the whole concept on its head.

A high three stars.

Authorgraphs: An Interview with Jack Williamson

An interesting interview with an interesting man. Some of that’s down to the life he’s led so far, but some of it probably due to his being a university lecturer who knows how to engage his audience. This is the first time the interview has been with someone who isn’t in the issue, which contrasts with what I said about the del Rey article.

Jack Williamson. Art by Gaughan

Four stars.

Tourists Welcome, by Roger Deeley

The sleepy British town of Maxcombe Parva has been hit with a spate of car thefts in one night. Police sergeant Slocombe wonders if local poacher and con man Geoff Rye might know something. It’s not his style, but he has been known to sell tourists something he doesn’t actually own.

An amusing little tale, though it takes a dark turn right at the end.

Three stars.

Retief, the Long-Awaited Master, by Keith Laumer

The diplomatic mission Retief is on runs afoul of the Groaci, and it’s up to him to save everybody’s career and reputation. I’m going to keep a copy of that sentence on file; it will save time when reviewing the next Retief story.

Retief and Magnan meet the locals. Art by Gaughan

When this story was teased last month, I wondered if enough time had passed for it to feel fresh. The answer is no. Laumer isn’t just going through the motions, the way he was a few years ago, but these are all stamped out by the same cookie cutter. Only the frosting is different.

Three stars, but only recommended if you’re new to the series or are a really big fan.

Summing up

This is a typical middle-of-the-road issue. Rather than rehashing what I usually say at the end of theses articles, let’s talk about art. There’s not much of it, with only three stories being illustrated. No one seems to have paid much attention to it during layout either. The piece reproduced here for “Toys of Tamisan” ran on page 93 for “Spork,” and the piece reproduced here for that story ran on page 27 for “Tamisan.” You’d think somebody would have noticed that even the robots are posed much too naturally and dynamically to have been drawn by Adkins. The magazine really needs to do better with its art.

Bloch could be good or bad. His humor is hit or miss.






[March 1, 1969] Beyond this Horizon (March 1969 Analog and Mariner 6)

photo of the face of a long haired man with glasses
by Gideon Marcus

On to Mars!

black and white photo of Mariner 6, a round probe with four rectangular solar panels jutting from it at right angles

Four years ago (has it been that long?) Mariner 4 became the first space probe to sail by Mars.  This event instantly destroyed a thousand dreams.  The 21 grainy, black and white pictures returned by the spacecraft's TV cameras showed a cratered, lunar-type surface.  The Martian atmosphere was found to be less than 1% as dense at the surface as that of Earth.  Gone was the romantic Mars of Edgar Rice Burroughs and Leigh Brackett.

These findings should not have come as such a surprise—the abundance of craters and the thin atmosphere had already been suspected before Mariner 4 ever got there.  But the photographic evidence was the final nail in the coffin.  Mars is dead.

Or is it?

Mariner 4 was a rather limited spacecraft.  We only got 21 pictures, after all.  And while 7 millibars may not seem like much, that's a veritable atmospheric blanket compared to the Moon or Mercury.  We need more data.

This is why a second generation of spacecraft, Mariners 6 and 7, are being sent to Mars.  These are heavier spacecraft with more sophisticated equipment: infrared and ultraviolet radiometers (measuring Martian energy output in those wavelengths), a better TV camera, and the ability to reprogram the spacecraft in flight, as needed.

color photo of an Atlas Centaur rocket taking off from a red launch complex at night

Mariner 6 took off last week on the 24th, and Mariner 7 will blast off March 21st.  We've yet to have both members of a Mariner pair make it to its destination (Mariner 1 and Mariner 3 both had mishaps), but hope springs eternal.  Come this summer, perhaps around the same time a man sets foot on the Moon, we will unveil more mysteries of the fourth planet.

illustration of a blue-furred humanoid, stripped to the waist, looking at a viewscreen with crocodile-head humanoids waving primitive weapons furiously
by Kelly Freas

On to the stars!

Trap, by Christopher Anvil

line drawing of crocodile-headed alien holding a mouse trap clamped around the tale of a furry humanoid stripped to the waist
by Kelly Freas

I have a private joke that every Chris Anvil story for Analog begins (Mad Lib style):

[Military Rank] [WASPy male name] of [military organization] [verbed] down the [corridor/hall/base] lightly touching his [weapon] clipped to his [clippable article of clothing].

"Trap" did nothing but reinforce this cliché, and I hunkered down for a slog of a novella.

Instead, I got a reasonably interesting, technical tale about peaceably dealing with implacable aliens, who possess an unbeatable weapon.  In this case, the planet is a swampy wasteland, the aliens have the ability to teleport anywhere they've been before, and the humans and Centrans (in an alliance since the 1956 story, "Paradise Planet") must find a way to make peace before the aliens find a way to teleport onto every ship and planet in both empires.

It starts a bit slow, but I found myself compelled.  Certainly better than the fare Anvil usually offers us in Analog.  Three stars.

Mirror, Mirror, on the Wall, by R. E. Allen

How does Mannie supply all the movies and music producers with the top talent?  Why, by dowsing over each of the actor's/musician's headshots with a divining rod, of course!

Not much of a story.  Not much science fiction.  Two stars.

They're Trying to Tell Us Something (part 1 of 2), by Thomas R. McDonough

diagram of four pulsar graphs with amplitude of signal versus time

This month's science article is on those enigmatic, recently discovered interstellar radio beacons known as pulsars.  Beeping on the radio dial on the average of once a second (some are faster, some are slower), they are significant for their unwaveringly precise timing and for their enormous power output—some one billion times the power output of all of Earth's civilizations!

There is a lot of interesting information in this article, but what annoys me is that McDonough seems convinced that pulsars are the work of "Little Green Men" (LGM), and presents his article accordingly.  Nowhere in the piece is the general accepted wisdom that the regularity of the signals and the fact that they seem to carry no information (not to mention their tremendous power) indicates that pulsars are rapidly rotating stars, and likely rapidly rotating, collapsed dead stars called "neutron stars".

This isn't esoteric knowledge I gleaned from The Astrophysical Journal—it's from the Sunday Supplement of Escondido's rag of a paper, The Times-Advocate.  So, its exclusion from McDonough's piece must be conscious, and that makes his arguments suspect.  Perhaps he'll discuss neutron stars in the next piece, but they really should have been front and center.

Three stars.

Minitalent, by Tak Hallus

line drawing of a courtroom setting with an older judge with glasses, a steno clerk woman behind him, and a gallery of seal-like aliens, looking at a worksuited human with a gallery of humans behind him
by Leo Summers

Alice Culligan, third mate and computer officer on the space ship Iphigenia, witnessed a crime: gun runners had smuggled cruel "nervers" to a race of aborigines.  They were caught, but the company they're working for looks to get away scott free.  They will do anything to ensure that verdict—including silencing Miss Culligan forever.

But Alice has an ace up her sleeve: a minor talent for telekinetics.  And in a computerized world, sometimes a little push is all that's needed…

Similarly premised as Larry Niven's sublime "The Organleggers", this tale (Tak Hallus' first) is not as deftly told.  That said, it is pretty good, and I liked the heroine very much.  It's clearly in the vein of, say, James H. Schmitz, so if you like him, you'll like this.

By the way, Tak Hallus is simply Arabic for "pseudonym", so who knows?  Maybe it really is Schmitz!

Four stars.

From Fanaticism, or for Reward, by Harry Harrison

line drawing of a man with a beam rifle shooting at a robot that looks like a suit of armor
by Leo Summers

An assassin named Jagen performs a job and, with the help of a teleportation system, escapes The Great Despot's justice.  But is there any ultimate evasion the efficient robot machines of the Despot's police force?

The well-written piece is really a setup for the philosophical question posed at the end.  The answer is surprising for such a libertarian mag as editor Campbell's.

Five stars.

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

line drawing of two stylized men in tunics dueling with glowing rods, a woman crouched over a body in the background
by Kelly Freas

And now, the conclusion of Wolfling.  By Gordy Dickson.

Jim Weil, archaeologist and Ace of All Trades (the term "bannou" (万能) is even more appropriate), had infiltrated the High-Born empire he was sent to detachedly examine, becoming a general in its armies.  Having discovered a plot to destroy the imperial warrior race of Starkiens, Jim quickly returned to the throne world to thwart a plot on the Emperor, himself.  He is successful in defeating the pretender, the Emperor's cousin, but now he must return to Earth and face treason charges for possibly incurring the imperial wrath on humanity.

In a dramatic courtroom scene, Jim explains his actions, how they saved the Earth, and the true origin of humanity vis. a vis. the High-Born.  Did we come from them, or did they come from us?

The answer is rather disappointing, more along the lines of something I'd expect written in the pulp era than modern times.  In addition, all of the energy-saber dueling seemed unnecessary; when everyone can teleport at whim, how do you keep your foe in the same room long enough to dispatch him?  Or keep your foe from materializing behind you?

But most of all, I had expected a statement against eugenics, but instead got something of a defense of it.  If not for the skilled writing, I might rate it more poorly.

Three stars for the serial as a whole.

On to the numbers!

black and white photo of a plump Black woman leaning over an eighth-grade white girl seated at a computer, a eight-grade black boy behind her, mathematical equations on the blackboard behind them all

You know, it's been quite a month!  With Analog clocking in at 3.4 stars, it's near the top of the heap rather than taking its usual place in the middle.  Ahead of it were Fantasy and Science Fiction (3.4) and IF (3.5).  The good news is, the spread was pretty narrow: Galaxy scored 3.3, New Worlds 3.2, New Writings 14 3.  Only Amazing scored below the three-line (2.7), and it was still better than usual.

In other vital statistics, women produced 11% of the new fictional content.  The superior stuff this month would fill three full-sized magazines.  Given that there were seven published this month, that's a good ratio.

Stay tuned for the end of next month when we find out how April's magazines do…and how Mariner 7 flies!






February 26, 1969] Springtime for Moorcock? New Worlds, March 1969

black and white head-shot photo of a spectacled, bearded, mustached man in his 40s
by Mark Yon

Scenes from England

Hello again.

As I am a Brit, you may have realised that it is essential that from time to time we talk about the weather – after all, it is usually so changeable here.

And post-Christmas I haven’t really mentioned it – the grey, sometimes snowy, dreariness of Winter is not something to write home about, unless it is extreme as it was in the winter of ’63. None of that recently, thank goodness!

Anyway, I was guided to write something about atmospheric conditions because as we approach March, things seem to be improving. It is lighter with longer hours of daylight and noticeably warmer. Spring is clearly on the way.

Daffodils and blossom in spring, Hampton, Greater London

But does this upturn in the weather mean that I continue to look at New Worlds with a sunnier disposition? Let’s see..

cover of the magazine, magenta, with Michael Moorcock holding up his arm wardinglyCover by Gabi Nasemann. Is this Moorcock horrified by his announcement? 

Lead In by The Publishers

Well, I was expecting to be annoyed here by the second part of James Sallis’s diatribe on the modernist novel, as told to expect last month, but no. Instead, we have the return of the Lead In and a shock revelation.

The Lead In tells us that Mike Moorcock and Charles Platt have resigned as editors of New Worlds magazine from the next issue. “It is with regret that we announce the resignation of Michael Moorcock and Charles Platt…”

After my initial astonishment, I read it again. It’s not quite what I thought I read – it actually says that Moorcock and Platt are resigning “from full time editorial involvement”.

Whilst this is clearly a change – and one I didn’t expect – it does not mean that they are banished from the magazine forever; more that they have other things to do, like write stuff and ensure the regular production of the magazine as publishers. An advisory role, in fact. Talking of writing:

A Cure for Cancer (Part 1 of 4) by Michael Moorcock

Artwork by Mal Dean.

Our lead story is a Jerry Cornelius story by the originator himself. In case you didn’t know, three months ago, the magazine declared that Mike Moorcock’s character Jerry Cornelius would continue in future issues by stories written by others, starting with James Sallis’s Jeremiad, which was in last month’s issue. So this is a bit of a surprise, but a welcome one.

This time Moorcock gives us what is really a James Bond-ian espionage romp, with guns, sex, cars, helicopters and airplanes, more sex, drugs – things that Fleming or the movies could never get away with – but in a sectioned, fractured, Ballardian style that currently seems de rigueur at New Worlds.

The plot, not that it really matters, is deliberately random but concerns Jerry travelling all over the world and meeting various odd characters, many of whom he seems to bed. There are villains in the form of Doktor Krupp and Bishop Beesley, a sort of corpulent Sidney Greenstreet.

Although the story may be initially set in 1970, there’s an interesting juxtaposition of old and new as Jerry seems to combine elements as diverse as  George Formby songs from the 1940’s and Beatles lyrics with futuristic weapons like the vibragun. It’s an engaging mix, even if it’s not always clear what’s going on. Hopefully the second part will make things clearer, but this is another one where you must not consider the story’s logic and just enjoy the ride.  4 out of 5.

White Dove by Carol Emshwiller

Artwork by Pamela Zoline.

The return of Emshwiller to New Worlds. I have found that her previous prose has often been unsettlingly sexual and odd, something I’ve not really liked personally. But it can’t be denied that she has an impact on readers and so it is here.  This is a story of a statue of an older man that the narrator is obsessed by. 3 out of 5.

The Death Layout by Graham Charnock

Graham was last seen with Crim in November, a story I’m tempted to call ‘grim’, though it wasn’t really that bad. This time it is about life and death – more cheerful stuff. Darkly satirical as an advertising campaign looks at how they can profit from a recent upsurge in pain and suicide. Could give ‘Chuckles’ Ballard a run for the monopoly on negative topics. 3 out of 5.

Mr. Black’s Poems of Innocence by D. M. Thomas

The magazine’s obsession with D.M. Thomas continues, with something given under the premise that it is a transcript of speech from Mr. Black, a schizophrenic, as he is treated. As the story progresses, in Flowers for Algernon fashion, Black becomes increasingly more literate and emotional. Despite my usual moans I found this more readable than some of D. M.’s previous efforts. 3 out of 5.

The Luger is a 9mm Handgun with a Parabellum Action by J. J. Mundis

Here’s an American writer we’ve not seen since November 1966. One of those allegorical stories where the narrator talks to his dog, who is an atavism, for most of the story, but at the end the owner shoots the dog with the titular Luger, presumably signalling the death of God, religion or both. Minor tale that sadly underperforms for me. 2 out of 5.

Plekhanov Screams by Leo Zorin

Bizarre artwork by Mal Dean, seemingly stuck in at random in the middle of this story.

It may help you to know that Georgi Plekhanov was a  Russian philosopher and revolutionary widely regarded as the first Marxist, but if you didn’t know that the story becomes even more meaningless than it actually is. Here Georgi Plekhanov is a surgeon on a secret operation. Lots of randomness, meaningless sex and obtuse actions ensue, including the odd artwork above, which I couldn't decide whether it was part of the story or not . Literary pretention at its highest.  2 out of 5.

I D by Charles Platt

The latest dystopian post-apocalyptic story, filled with death and decay. The narrator follows a mysterious woman before drifting into a dream-state which imagines birth and death. When he awakes the woman isn’t there, of course. Ballard-like bleakness. 3 out of 5.

The Killing Ground  by J. G. Ballard

Artwork by Mal Dean.

And talking of Ballard, here’s ‘Chuckles’ himself. Unusually though, this one is startlingly direct, an anti-war story where the British Army is tasked with the difficult task of maintaining order in a world in decay. Includes a not-so-subtle nod to the US war in Viet Nam. Unusual in its directness, although as a result many will see it as lower-league Ballard. Nevertheless, I liked it. 4 out of 5.

The Hiroshima Dream by George MacBeth

Continuing the war theme, now with poetry, this time from writer and reviewer MacBeth. His last prose piece was in July 1967. The Hiroshima Dream touches on themes that seem very Ballardian, so it seems a logical piece to follow Ballard. Death, destruction, dystopia….fifty tankas*  all based around apocalypse and the nuclear bomb dropping at Hiroshima. Although it is shockingly dark, I prefer MacBeth to D. M. Thomas.  4 out of 5.

*I had to look it up in my dictionary – tankas are prose poems made up of five lines, similar to haiku.

Book Reviews

The Future of Art by Kenneth Coutts-Smith

Coutts-Smith reviews a book with an ambitious title – Heaven and Hell in Western Art by Robert Hughes, and then Art, Affluence and Alienation by Roy McMullen.

Mr. Throd and the Wise Old Crocodile by M. John Harrison

M. John Harrison reviews books of genre interest – the latest Mervyn Peake reprinted novel, Gormenghast, which shows what a talent the late Mr. Peake was, a spy novel by Anthony Burgess, and a story collection by Fritz Leiber, described as “one of the most underrated and misunderstood writers in the field”.

No News is Good News by William Barclay

Barclay reviews in detail Andrew Wilson’s The Bomb and the Computer, which reduces warfare to computer-simulated wargames.

The scary thing is that these simulations are real. Look at the diagram above, which could be easily used in, say, Viet Nam. I guess that this is science fiction made real.

Those Erotic Green Men in Their Flying Machines by James Cawthorn

Eye-catching title aside, James Cawthorn reviews Frank Herbert’s ‘far more presentable than it deserves’ The Heaven Makers, the ‘dated but fast-moving novel’ Doomsday Morning by Catherine L. Moore, and A. E. van Vogt’s first story collection for fifteen years (‘not a collection designed for new readers’)

More positively are the reviews of books from now-departing editors. Michael Moorcock’s latest ‘original and remarkable’ Elric fantasy, Stormbringer and  Charles Platt’s The Garbage World,  which we reviewed when it was a serial here in the magazine There are also brief reviews of Alan Garner’s fantasy novels, as well as Poul Anderson’s ‘ponderous and irritating’ The Star Fox, Robert Silverberg’s The Time Hoppers, The Ring by Piers Anthony and Robert E. Margroff. There's also  a brief re-review of The Dream Master by Roger Zelazny, which was reviewed a while back.

Also quickly mentioned and reviewed by D.R.B. are a number of books also received about poetry, theatre and imagery.

Pictures: M. C. Escher

A page of pictures by this unusual artist, who you may remember was also examined in the July 1967 issue of New Worlds. Seems to be here to highlight the publishing of a new book, The Graphic Work of M. C. Escher.

Summing Up

With a cheery wave goodbye, the leaving of Moorcock and Platt as full-time editors leaves something of a hole at New Worlds, but I am sure that they are leaving feeling that the magazine is in safe hands under the auspices of Langdon Jones and James Sallis.

My own view on Sallis’s work is much less positive. He is far too fond of the poetic allegory and the ‘dissertation as lecture’ article for my liking, as recent issues have shown, although he can surprise me and also produce work I liked. I'm not sure where this means New Worlds will go.

Despite the weather making things seem better, Moorcock's final issue is a rather dark one, with most of the material being about life and death, war and things that are generally unpleasant.* The only thing to lighten the mood is Moorcock's own A Cure for Cancer, which doesn't seem to take itself seriously at all.

*This gloom also looks to continue in the next issue, looking at the 'Next Month' banner (below.)

So, as Moorcock and Platt move on to pastures new – well, more book writing and editing, anyway – is it possible we have another dawning of a new age – not just for them but for New Worlds as well?

Um. Even under new management I’m not expecting things to change much. I think that this issue is what we should expect more of in the future, continuing the trend of combining the well-known writers such as J. G. Ballard with newish writers who are becoming regulars – Leo Zorin, Graham Charnock and yes, my own favourite (sarcasm) D. M. Thomas.

However,  with allegory piled onto allegory, the overall feel is that the issue is rather intense. As is always the case with such experimental work, there are times when it worked for me, whilst others less so. It should make the future interesting.

Ah well – just when I thought things were settling down! Life’s never boring here at the British front, eh?

Until next time!






[February 12, 1969] Slick stuff (March 1969 Galaxy science fiction)


by Gideon Marcus

The Bad Kind

For 12 days, 21,000 gallons a day of crude oil spilled into the Pacific ocean off the coast of Santa Barbara.  Only on February 8 was the leaking undersea well finally capped. This debacle, courtesy of the Union Oil Co., has blackened the harbors and beaches of the San Gabriel Valley coastline, killing hundreds of sea birds.  Even Governor Reagan is declaring this mess a disaster, making federal funds available for cleanup.

Newspaper picture of Coast Guard Admiral Chester Bender and Senators Muskie and Cranston inspect the oil slick at Santa Barbara Harbor

Nevertheless, the Governor did not relieve the oil company of its obligation to the government agencies and private citizens harmed by this catastrophe.  It will likely take more than 1000 men three weeks to clean up the mess.

The silver lining is that only about 1% of the local seabird population has been affected, and virtually none of the seals.  Indeed, the damage is only about a quarter of that caused two years ago when the super tanker Torrey Canyon broke up off the coast of Southwest England.

Still, if the best we can say is that this crisis is not as bad as the worst, I think we can do better.

The Good Kind

In refreshing contrast to the environmental incident described above, the latest issue of Galaxy is anything but a tragedy:

cover featuring a bird-like aircraft floating on an ocean, with a man on top. Similar aircraft are flying in the distance.
by Douglas Chaffee illustrating The Weather on Welladay

And Now They Wake (Part 1 of 3), by Keith Laumer

In 1981, just as broadcast power switches on for the first time, an inmate by the name of Grayle makes a daring escape from a New York prison.  He is an enigmatic man, an inmate who looks 35, but who has been incarcerated since before World War 2.  He also possesses an uncanny ability to heal from wounds.

At the same time, another fellow with similar powers stumbles drunk out of a bar, making his way to a steam room where he miraculously heals a profound set of scars and ejects an antique Minie ball from a wound in his back.

These events are coincident with the appearance of a tremendous water spout in the middle of the Atlantic, and interwoven with tales from a thousand years ago of a renegade from the Galactic Fleet named Thor, and his comrade-turned-betrayer, Loki.

Viking era scene where a slave is beset by a haughty noble while others watch. Backdrop is a long ship which has just made shore.
by Jack Gaughan

Who are these two immortals, and why has their story suddenly come to a head?  I don't know…but I'm hooked!

Four stars, so far.

The City That Loves You, by Raymond E. Banks

The Alpha Centauri city of Relax offers everything to its twenty million inhabitants—comfort, company, computerized guidance.  But what happens when a citizen wants to leave?  What if every inducement, soft and hard, is made to keep him there?  Does the fellow really have a choice in the matter?

I read the whole story waiting for the other shoe to drop, and I was not displeased with the result.  In the end, for a place to truly be paradise, there must be a way out.  The socialiast utopias of the world, from Bulgaria to Beit Ha Shita, might take note.

Four stars.

Leviathan, by Lise Braun

An advanced submarine, akin to the Seaview from Voyage to the Bottom of the Sea rescues a primitive fisherman lost at sea in the Atlantic Ocean.  This inadvertently gives rise to a number of familiar legends.

This is an old-fashioned story; it would have been right at home in Imagination in 1954.  I do like the clever, organic way Braun conveys that the action takes place thousands of years in the past, and the reading is pleasant, if not extraordinary.

Three stars.

The Weather on Welladay, by Anne McCaffrey

illustration of a woman in a skin-tight, belted suit, gripping her shoulder. She stands in what looks like a big rock formation. A man in a black, skin-tight suit is behind her, arm oustretched.
by Reese

The sodden, storm-lashed world of Welladay seems too bleak a world for settlement.  However, schools of whales that inhabit it produce a valuable radioactive substance prized for medical applications.  A team of hardy fishermen taps these whales for their lymphic treasure, braving the waves and weather.

But some pirate has been draining the whales dry, decimating the population and threatening the economy and health of the Federation.  Is it one of the four fishers?  The mysterious woman space pilot shot down at the beginning of the tale, who crashes on a lonely archipelago?  Or someone else?

This is definitely one of McCaffrey's better stories, with far more atmosphere (no pun intended) and far less barely suppressed violence and hokey romance.  It goes on a little long, and I find it improbable that this vast planet seems to have exactly six people on it, but I enjoyed it.

Three stars.

For Your Information: Collision Course, by Willy Ley

Mr. Ley's piece this month is on asteroids that cross Earth orbit, particularly Icarus, which precipitated the 49th end-of-the-world scare since the birth of Christ.

Interesting and useful, though rather brief.

Three stars.

four-panel image depicting the stages of crater formation, from meteorite impact, to explosion, to resulting crater.

The Last Flight of Dr. Ain, by James Tiptree, Jr.

A sick scientist and his dying love make a multi-stop air flight around the world.  At each landing, he makes sure to expose as many people as possible to what appears to be an aerosol for cold symptoms, and he feeds bread crumbs to migratory birds.  As the story unfolds, told mostly in third-party reports, we learn the scientist was working on a deadly disease, and that he thinks of humanity as a blight on the Earth.

There's no subtext to the story—it's all on the surface—but it's beautifully told and very eerie.  I liked it; my favorite from Mr. Tiptree so far.  Four stars.

The Theory and Practice of Teleportation , by Larry Niven

drawing of various teleport booth configurations: E and F face each other, a man shooting a gun into E and getting hit in the back of the head from F; C is on top of a cliff, A and B are on the ground, and D is on a railroad track

Adapted from a lecture Niven gave at Boskone in front of the MIT Science Fiction Society, this is an interesting look at the effects of teleportation, in all its potential developmental paths, on society.

Four stars.

Greeks Bringing Knee-High Gifts, by Brian W. Aldiss

A darkly humorous story set in the near future, satirizing the world of executives. They all hate each other but are not allowed to express it or complain, so they do things that they can claim are generous as an act of passive aggression.

For instance, one gifts another with a genetically tailored midget Tyrannosaurus…which promptly eats the recipient's leg.  Said giftee then names the dinosaur after the giftor's coquettish wife and turns up at the giftor's funeral with the creature to terrorise people, but in doing so claims it is a lovely tribute.

Rather obtuse and pointless.  I didn't like it.

One star.

(with thanks to Kris for co-writing this review-let).

Godel Numbers, by J. W. Swanson

three men in suits look at an enigmatic black flat cuboid that looks like a bar of dark soap
by Jack Gaughan

200 miles west of Cairo, archaeologists have dug up what they're calling the "Cairo Stone".  It is a black tablet, obviously artificial, clearly advanced, and meticulously carved with a series of scratch marks.  Dated to 3000 B.C., it could not have been made by a contemporary terrestrial civilization.  It's up to three scientists, a melange of linguists and computer engineers, both to crack the code of the tablets and to fend off Soviet agents.

In the end, the tablet serves much the same purpose as the monolith(s) in 2001, jump-starting humanity's progress.  It's an amiable, old-fashioned sort of tale, and so esoteric that it probably would have done well, if not better, in Analog.

Three stars.

Cleaning up

All in all, the latest Galaxy makes for pleasant, if not outstanding, reading.  I would certainly much rather read about Godel numbers, teleportation, immortals, and isotopic pirates than oil slicks any day!