Category Archives: Science Fiction/Fantasy

Magazine/Anthology, Science Fiction/Fantasy

[March 10, 1969] Speed (April 1969 Fantastic)

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by Victoria Silverwolf

High Velocity

Vehicles travelling very rapidly were in the news this month, both in a good way and in a bad way.

On March 2, the French/British supersonic airplane Concorde made its first test flight in Toulouse, France.  At the controls was test pilot
André Édouard Turcat.


Up, up, and away!

The plane reached a speed of 225 miles per hour (far below the speed of sound) and stayed in the air for twenty-seven minutes.  Just a test, but expect a lot of sonic booms in the near future.

The same day, tragedy struck the Yellow River drag racing strip in Covington, Georgia.  Racer Huston Platt was at the wheel of a car nicknamed Dixie Twister when it smashed through a chain link fence and hurdled into the crowd at 180 miles per hour.


Image of the disaster from a home movie taken by a spectator.

Eleven people were killed instantly.  One later died in the hospital.  More than forty were injured.

All this rushing around is likely to induce vertigo.  Appropriately, the Number One song in the USA this month is Dizzy by Tommy Roe, a catchy little number that captures the feeling perfectly.


Even the cover art makes my head spin.

Speed Reading

With no less than thirteen stories in the latest issue of Fantastic, it's obvious that several of them are going to be quite short, resulting in quick reading. 

The new stories slightly outnumber the reprints, at seven to six, but the old stuff takes up more than twice as many pages.  Apparently today's writers like to finish their works at a quicker pace than their predecessors.  Or maybe it's just a lot cheaper to buy tiny new works and fill up the rest of the magazine with longer reprints.


Cover art by Johnny Bruck.

As usual, the cover is also a reprint.  It appeared on the German magazine Perry Rhodan a few years ago.


Also as usual, the original looks better.

Characterization in Science Fiction, by Robert Silverberg

This brief essay by the Associate Editor promotes more depth of character in the genre, and praises new authors Roger Zelazny, Samuel Delany, and Thomas Disch for their skill in that area of writing.  Can't argue with that.

No rating.

In a Saucer Down for B-Day, by David R. Bunch


Illustration by Dan Adkins.

The magazine's most controversial writer returns with a tale that is closer to traditional science fiction than most of his works.  The narrator is an Earthman who is returning to his home planet with an alien.  He wants to show the extraterrestrial Earth's big annual celebration.

The author makes a point about a current social problem, maybe a little too obviously.  Even if this had been published anonymously, it would be easy to tell it's by Bunch from the style.  (Just the fact that the narrator says YES! more than once is a strong clue.) More readable than other stuff from his pen.

Three stars.

The Dodgers, by Arthur Sellings

A sad introduction tells us the author died last September.  This posthumous work features an engineer and a physician who land on a planet where many of the alien inhabitants are suffering from weakness and green blotches on their skin.  As soon as the humans arrive, a bag full of gifts for the extraterrestrials vanishes.  The mystery involves an unusual ability of the aliens.

I hate to speak ill of the dead, but this isn't a very good story.  The premise strains credibility, to say the least, and the ending is rushed.

Two stars.

The Monster, by John Sladek


Illustration by Bruce Eliot Jones

A fellow eager to be a space explorer replaces a guy who's been the only person on a distant planet for a long time.  The world turns out to be a dreary, boring place.  The environment is so bad that our protagonist can't go outside for more than a moment.  His only company is a robot in the form of a woman. 

The author makes his point clearly enough.  You're likely to see it coming a mile away.  Still, it's not a bad little yarn.

Three stars.

Visit, by Leon E. Stover

The Science Editor for Fantastic and Amazing (which must be an easy job; do they ever have any science articles?) gives us this account of aliens landing in Japan.  The American military officers present consult with a science fiction writer and a cultural anthropologist.  After a lot of discussion, the aliens finally come out of their spaceship.

For a story in which not much happens this sure goes on for a while.  Much of the text consists of references to other SF stories.  The ending is anticlimactic.  It left me thinking So what?

Two stars.

Ascension, by K. M. O'Donnell

The introduction reveals that O'Donnell is a pseudonym for the editor.

But which editor?

Glancing at the table of contents, you see that the Editor and Publisher is Sol Cohen, and the Managing Editor is Ted White.  Cohen or White?

Trick question!  It's actually Barry N. Malzberg, who was very briefly editor for Fantastic and Amazing.  (My esteemed colleague John Boston goes into detail about the situation in his article about the March issue of Amazing.)

Obviously this issue was assembled under the auspices of Malzberg.  Nobody ever said the publishing industry was fast.

Anyway, this is a New Wave yarn about a future President of the United States.  (The 46th, which I guess puts the story somewhere around the year 2024 or so.) Civil liberties are thrown out, the President has an advisor killed, he gets kicked out by the opposition and shot, the cycle goes on.  Something like that.

You can tell it's New Wave (with an acknowledged nod to J. G. Ballard) because sections of the text are in ALL CAPITALS and it ends in the middle of a sentence.  I suppose it's some kind of commentary on American politics.

Two stars.

The Brain Surgeon, by Robin Schaefer

Guess what?  This is yet another pseudonym for Malzberg.  Must have had trouble filling up the issue.  (No surprise, given the miserly budget.)

A man sends away for a home brain surgery kit that he saw advertised on a matchbook cover.  He gets the instruments and an explanatory pamphlet in the mail.  But what can he do with it?

Something about this brief bit of weirdness appealed to me more than it should.  There's not much to it, really, but what there is tickled my fancy.

Three stars.

How Now Purple Cow, by Bill Pronzini

A farmer sees a (you guessed it) purple cow in his field.  There's some talk of UFOs in the area.  Then there's a twist at the end.

Very short, without much point to it.  A shaggy dog (cow?) story.  A joke without a punchline. 

One star.

On to the reprints!

The Book of Worlds, by Dr. Miles J. Breuer

Return with us now to those thrilling days of yesteryear with this pre-Campbellian work of scientifiction from the pages of the July 1929 issue of Amazing Stories.


Cover art by Hugh Mackay.

A scientist discovers a way to view the fourth dimension.  This allows him to see a enormous number of worlds similar to our own Earth, at stages of development from the first stirrings of life to the future of humanity.  What he perceives has a profound effect on him.


Illustration by Frank R. Paul.

I have to confess that I wasn't expecting very much out of a story from the very early days of modern science fiction.  This was a pleasant surprise.  The author clearly has a point to make, and makes it powerfully.  What happens to the scientist at the end may strike you as either poignant or silly.  Take your pick.

Three stars.

The Will, by Walter M. Miller, Jr.

The January/February 1954 issue of the magazine supplies this moving tale.


Cover art by Vernon Kramer.

The narrator's teenage foster son is dying of leukemia.  The boy is obsessed with a television program about a time travelling hero called Captain Chronos.

(No doubt this was inspired by the author's work on the TV show Captain Video not long before the story was first published.)


Illustration by Jay Landau.

The boy has a plan, involving his collection of stamps and autographs.  But does he have enough time left?

Just from this brief description, you probably already have a pretty good idea of what's going to happen.  Despite the fact that the plot is a little predictable, however. this is a fine story.  The emotion is genuine rather than sentimental.  The ending is both joyful and sad.

Four stars.

Elementals of Jedar, by Geoff St. Reynard

Hiding behind that very British pseudonym is American writer Robert W. Krepps.  This pulpy yarn comes from the May 1950 issue of Fantastic Adventures.


Cover art by H. J. Blumenfeld.

A spaceship captain with the manly name of Ken Ripper and his motley crew of aliens from various worlds are in big trouble.  Forced to land on a planet said to be inhabited by living force fields of pure malevolence, they have to figure out a way to escape with their lives.


Illustration by Rod Ruth.

Boy, this is really corny stuff.  I have to wonder if it's a parody of old-time space opera.  When the hero curses by saying Jove and bounding jackrabbits!, it makes me think the author is pulling my leg. The fact that one of the aliens on the spaceship is a humanoid twelve inches tall makes me giggle, too.  Even if it's tongue-in-cheek, a little of this goes a long way.

Two stars.

The Naked People, by Winston Marks

This story comes from the September 1954 issue of Amazing Stories.


Cover art by Ralph Castenir.

The combination of a sore ear and a fight in a tavern sends the narrator to the hospital with a brain infection.  When he comes out of his coma, he is able to see the ethereal figure of a unclothed man.  The lecherous fellow is able to solidify himself sufficiently to have his way with a pretty nurse while she's unconscious and under his control.


Illustration uncredited.

Then a female ghostly being shows up, with an obvious interest in our hero.  It seems that these folks have been hanging around, unperceived by normal people, since the dawn of humanity.  They materialize enough to steal food and, to put it delicately, act as incubi and succubi.

I get the feeling that the author didn't quite know how to end the story.  The hero fends off the advances of the lustful female being and saves the pretty nurse from the male one.  He even marries her.  But the naked people are still around, with all that implies.

An unsatisfying conclusion and a slightly distasteful premise make for a less than enjoyable reading experience.

Two stars.

And the Monsters Walk, by John Jakes

This two-fisted tale comes from the July 1952 issue of Fantastic Adventures. 


Cover art by Walter Popp.

The narrator starts off aboard a ship bound for England from the Orient.  Burning with curiosity, he investigates the secret cargo hold, although the captain warned the crew this was punishable by death.  He finds boxes containing humanoid creatures.

Barely escaping with his life, he makes his way to shore.  Mysterious figures are out to kill him.  On the other hand, a Tibetan mystic and a beautiful young woman try to help him.  In return, they want his aid in combating a conspiracy to destroy Western civilization by using demons to slaughter world leaders.


Illustration by David Stone.

John Jakes is best known around here for his tales of Brak the Barbarian.  Those stories proved that he had studied the adventures of Conan carefully.  This yarn convinces me that he is also very familiar with the pulp magazines of the 1930's.

I'll give him credit for not being boring, anyway.  The action never stops, although you won't believe a minute of it.  The author's intense, almost frenzied style keeps you reading.

Three stars.

I, Gardener by Allen Kim Lang

Our last story comes from the December 1959 issue of the magazine.


Cover art by Ed Valigursky.

The narrator pays a visit to a prolific writer.  He speaks to a very strange gardener, who proves to be something other than what he seems.

I'll leave it at that, because I don't want to give away too much about the simple plot.  You may be able to figure out who the model for the writer is, given the title of the story and the fact that the character's name is Doctor Axel Ozoneff.  (The introduction to the story makes it obvious, so I'd advise not looking at it.)

Not a great story.

Two stars.

Fantasy Books, by Fritz Leiber and Alexei Panshin

Leiber looks at novels by E. R. Eddison, and Panshin has kind words to say about The Last Unicorn by Peter S. Beagle.

No rating.

Quickly Summing Up

Another average-to-poor issue, with only Miller's story rising above that level.  At least most of the pieces make for fast reading, although a couple of the worst ones may make you furious at their lack of quality.  You may be tempted to watch an old movie on TV instead.


From 1954, so it should show up on the Late, Late Show sometime soon.




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Magazine/Anthology, Science Fiction/Fantasy, Serial

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

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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!




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Science Fiction/Fantasy, TV

[March 6, 1969] Different points of view (Star Trek: "The Cloud Minders")

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Just Bad


by Janice L. Newman

Star Trek has given us some amazing episodes over the past three seasons, episodes that made us think, made us gasp, made our hearts bleed for the characters and made us laugh out loud. Unfortunately, we’ve also had many kinds of bad episodes, from ridiculously, gloriously bad, to offensively, teeth-grindingly bad, to bizarrely bad, to pathetically bad. Yet somehow, The Cloudminders manages to be a different kind of bad than any we’ve seen before.

title cards superimposed over a relief map of an anonymous piece of ground heralding that the title is

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[March 4, 1969] Here Endeth The Lesson (Doctor Who: The Seeds Of Death [Parts 4-6])

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By Jessica Holmes

“The Seeds Of Death” draws to a close, and time is running out for planet Earth. Let’s check in with the Doctor and company to see how humanity’s fate unfolds, and whether the human race will learn anything from this whole ordeal…

ID: Fewsham (white male, 30s) sits in front of a computer terminal between two Ice Warriors (left foreground, right background, both wearing scaly armour and helmets)

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

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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

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

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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!




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Science Fiction/Fantasy, TV

[February 28, 1969] We Reach (Star Trek: "The Way to Eden")

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The Corrosive Threat of Antidisestablishmentarianism


by Amber Dubin

US-world relations have been growing increasingly concerning as we venture cautiously into the first couple of months of 1969. From never having quite gotten back on the right foot since last year's Tet offensive (and with this year's edition currently ongoing) to the aftermath of the Pueblo incident, to the newly renewed Moon Race, it sometimes feels like America is standing on the world stage with shaky legs. It is easy to react to these uncertain times by pining for a prelapsarian epoch in human history.

It’s rather apropos, then, that Star Trek writers have once again turned to the often-referenced biblical Garden of Eden. Here, however, I'd argue that “The Way to Eden” approaches this subject in an unique way by suggesting, as Spock does here, that all advanced societies “hunger for an Eden, where spring comes.”

two screen shots, both title cards over the Enterprise zooming toward the camera: the first says The Way to Eden, and the second says that the teleplay is by Arthur Heinemann, the story by Michael Richards and Arthur Heinemann
What happens when you set transporter coordinates for Haight/Ashbury

The episode opens on a familiar scenario where the Enterprise is hotly pursuing a stolen vessel that is overheating its engines to alarming levels. They manage to beam over the occupants just before the fleeing vessel explodes, and the crew of the Enterprise is confronted by a motley crew of ragamuffins. Kirk greets the strangely dressed, wild, love-and-peace-preaching, anti-authoritarian naturalists by informing them that they were only spared consequences for stealing and destroying a Federation ship because the wayward son of a political figure is among them.

screen shot of Kirk in his uniform looking flummoxed facing Tong Rad, a purple-haired space hippie with a high forehead
"Don't trust the Fuzz, man!"

They respond to Kirk’s mercy without gratitude, disrespectfully requesting that the Enterprise act as a ferry in their quest to reach a planetary Eden and relocating to sickbay with extreme reluctance.

Meanwhile, Ensign Chekov discovers that a lovely dark-haired Russian beauty from his Starfleet Academy days is among the band of miscreants. Irina Galiulian and Chekov lost touch when she dropped out of Starfleet to chase nebulous and flighty pursuits, a choice that Chekov deeply disapproves of. They have an angry, yet charged, discussion which resolves nothing before she returns to her more amiable family of choice.

screen shot of Chekov in uniform and Galilulin in a revealing, flowery two-piece, talking in a corridor as another crew person watches
Is Chekov going through captain's training? Because I thought it was Kirk's job to be so enamored of the pretty lady that he forgets to protect the ship.

Back in sickbay, the situation has descended into chaos. The group’s leader, ex-research engineer Dr. Sevrin, has been determined to be a carrier for a superbug that is both incurable and created by the advanced sterilization techniques used to sustain Federation environments. He is thus quarantined and isolated from his flock, an action against which the rest of the group protests heavily.

Acting as both the snake and the snake charmer, the now deemed insane Dr. Sevrin spurs on the rest of his group to break him out of isolation and seize control of the Enterprise, knowing their musical seductions and rapscallion ways will cause the crew to lower their defenses and underestimate any hidden, nefarious intentions.

screen shot of an Enterprise room where four space hippies perform, one playing a sort of space age guitar without a box
Tonight on Hullabaloo!

Furthering this goal, Irina isolates Chekov and effortlessly steps into the role of femme-fatale, doing little else other than batting her lashes and breathing lightly on Chekov’s lips to get him to spill his guts about every single operating mechanism of the ship’s security and navigational systems. Next, the group minstrel, Adam, begins a pied piper act, strumming and singing his way through the whole ship. He even convinces Spock to display his instrumental talents in a seemingly impromptu concert that gets broadcast over the ship’s speakers, in a very effective misdirection campaign that covers for his comrades as they disable ship security and free their leader.

Now in control of the Enterprise, the group barrels into Romulan space towards a planet that ship’s scanners have defined as Eden, setting a trap to disable the crew and allow them time to escape. There is a brief pause where members of the group try and fail to dissuade the power-mad Dr. Sevrin from making this trap fatal for the Enterprise crew, but thankfully this is the one part of their plan that the crew is able to disrupt before succumbing to those permanent consequences.

screen shot of the Enterprise bridge, Sulu, Lieutenant Palmer, and someone else all unconscious at their stations
Asleep on the job

The band briefly appears victorious in the acquisition of their fabled garden, but find the paradise hostile to humanoid life, and the bare-footed hippies literally get burned by the acid-coated plants growing in an Eden that was supposed to welcome them. Faced with the devastating failure of his quest, Dr. Sevrin willfully consumes the deadly fruit, very plainly demonstrating that the insanity brought on by his dual lust for anarchy and power was fatal.

screen shot of Dr. Sevrin, a bald, puffy eared man in a tree holding a fruit with a bite taken out of it and looking stricken
The metaphorical apple (still much better than "The Apple")

I think boiling this episode down to “the one about beatniks in space” is both simplistic and disrespectful to the subtlety of the message it’s trying to convey. I see how, on its face, it could appear that the plot of this episode is a ham-fisted attempt to judge the reactions of the Enterprise crew when introduced to hippies from our time, but I’d argue their role here is to demonstrate the corrosive nature of antidisestablishmentarianism. I think the fact that such a small group of humanoids, with no greater powers of intelligence or manipulation than any other aliens we’ve met so far, was able to so swiftly and effortlessly take control of the ship, speaks to the power of hiding in plain sight.

Rather than the loudly chanting overtones that kindness can be fatal, the more subtle message here is that these intruders merely awakened seeds that were pre-sown into the mind of every being in known society. The unspoken fear that our zeitgeist whispers, is that every established system only functions as long as the seeds of hedonism, anarchy and sedition do not grow to destroy it. It is the reason power fears the rhetoric of communists, cultists and anarchists; why it tries to silence the rabble-rousers, quell the mobs, round up and isolate the dissenters, and burn the witches.

The wolf is efficiently hidden in sheep's clothing when love-drunk, starry-eyed hippies prove themselves not to be peaceniks –but weapons. Weapons so effective that, in a matter of hours, they reduce an advanced, peaceful, orderly, military vessel to the plaything of a handful of gleeful, half-naked, singing fools.

screen shot of a security guard with eyes closed in rapture just before being thumbed unconscious by Tong Rad, one of the hippies, while Dr. Sevrin, a bald, puffy-eared male, watches from behind the force field in the brig
If only they let Bob Hope tour the Enterprise, the crew wouldn't be so starved for entertainment.  Then again, they might…

This episode very effectively warns against the dangers of what can happen when a charismatic, silver-tongued leader sinks his fangs into the impressionable minds of restless sycophants. It demonstrates how powerful that sharp-witted leader can become when he knows how to wield such universally disarming weapons as pleasant music, a righteous and honorable cause, and the promise of affection and approval from smiling, scantily-clad, untamed youths.

Despite its disarming façade, this episode is not a light romp. It is a cautionary tale; and in my opinion a particularly well-woven yarn.

5 stars.

Space Hippies


by Erica Frank
We only see six of the Edenites, but they must be part of a larger movement: Spock knows their greeting and their philosophy, and "reaches" them well enough to be the ship's liaison with them. Either they are very numerous, or very influential, or both.

screen shot of six space hippies sitting in the transporter room
Clockwise from center: Dr. Sevrin, a brilliant engineer; Adam, a musician; Tong Rad, son of the Catullan ambassador, who plays drums; nameless blonde musician who plays the stringed wheel; nameless brunette woman; Irina Galliulin, Chekov's former girlfriend.

Spock respects their goals even when he recognizes that Sevrin is manipulative and deceitful. At least three of them are well-educated, talented, and lauded in their fields; we have no reason to suspect the others are random dropouts. These aren't people who have failed at mainstream society and are chasing myths to make up for their inadequacy–rather, they have judged the Federation and found it wanting in soul and harmony. As Spock says, "They regard themselves as aliens in their own worlds… a condition with which I am somewhat familiar."

They have lost their leader and their Eden, but four of them remain, and they need not give up their quest for a peaceful community, away from a technological, regimented society.

We've seen at least two places they could go: One where people can live a mellow and gentle life, but slowly lose their drive for creativity. And one where they could have fantastic adventures, but none of it would be real. Or they can keep searching for a tropical paradise planet that's not full of acid and poison, although any of those in Federation space are likely to be populated ("exploited," I'm sure they'd say) unless there's some reason not to go there.

…Maybe paradise planet is being used as a retirement facility now, and is too commercialized for the hippies. Maybe the Shore Leave planet is restricted – the aliens who run it don't want the Federation trying to figure out their technology. So perhaps they need to look for somewhere else. But on their quest, they can visit other planets and find people looking for a simpler, gentler life.

screen shot of the space hippie, Adam, lying dead on the ground with a half-eaten apple lying next to him
They'll need to find a new lead guitarist.

Five stars (but I'm probably very biased). I loved the music, and that the ending, although touched with tragedy, wasn't "it's all ruined." There's room for hope that someday, they will find their Eden.

Back to the Beginning


by Gideon Marcus

Remember first season Star Trek?  When Kirk was a "a stack of books with legs", stiff and Hornblower-like?  When Spock was cold on the outside, hot on the inside?  When other members of the cast had lines?  When the Enterprise halls were filled with crew members and guests?  When music was a fundamental part of the show?  (viz. Uhura singing in "Charlie X" and "The Conscience of the King")

There are many reasons to like "A Way to Eden", and they are well-represented in the above entries by my colleagues.  But what I loved about the episode the most was that it felt like a return to the Trek I liked best.  After so many episodes in which the characters acted contrary to their nature, when plots were half-baked, when technology was inconsistent, when our favorite vessel seemed sterile and incomplete—finally, the Enterprise feels alive again.

You can even see the relief in the crew.  The fellow guarding the brig was mesmerized listening to that (quite excellent) jam between Spock and the exquisite and talented Deborah Downey.  He must have been just parched for entertainment.  No wonder they all were so susceptible to the influence of One.

screen shot of Spock playing the Vulcan lytherette alongside a zaftig blonde woman in a blue sundress playing what looks like a bicycle wheel
I'd watch this episode of Jazz Casual any day…

Spock's heart-wrenching expression of support of the Edenites' quest, his solidarity with their feeling of alienation within utopia, was worth the price of admission all on its own.  The space hippies weren't characterized as naive, pampered rich kids who didn't know what was good for them.  They are the free spirits for whom middle class American values just don't wash.  A key message of this episode: surely, the Federation must be big enough for them, too.  Infinite Diversity in Infinite Combination, ¿qué no?

And finally, if Charles Napier and Deborah Downey ever release an album of their performances on this show (I can absolutely buy that Adam's space guitar provides perfect acoustics and amplification for his voice), I will be the first in line.  Also, if anyone's started a Deborah Downey fan club, I want to be a charter member.  Otherwise, I might have to make one myself…

Four stars.

[Come join us tonight (February 28th) for the next thrilling episode of Star Trek!  KGJ is broadcasting the show live with commercials and accompanied by trekzine readings at 8pm Eastern and Pacific.  You won't want to miss it…]




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Magazine/Anthology, Science Fiction/Fantasy, Serial

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

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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!




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Magazine/Anthology, Science Fiction/Fantasy

[February 22, 1969] Good and Bad Trips (March 1969 Fantasy and Science Fiction)

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by Gideon Marcus

Davey Jones has company

This week, the regional news has been filled with the death of a local hero.  Aquanaut Berry L. Cannon, a resident of Sealab III off the coast of La Jolla, died while diving 610 feet to repair a helium leak in his undersea home.

picture of a crewcut man in a diving suit behind a ship's lantern

It wasn't a matter of foul play or (so far as is currently known) an accident.  The 33 year old Cannon, subject to the rigors of a deep dive and 19 times the pressure out of water, simply succumbed to a cardiac arrest.  He was declared dead on arrival at the hospital.

The three other divers who had gone with him had no physical troubles.  The repair effort had come shortly after the habitat had been lowered to the bottom of the Pacific Ocean pending long-term habitation by eight aquanauts.  Cannon was a veteran of the second Sealab experiment, back in 1965.

newpaper illustration depicting the cylindrical Sealab III under the water while a supply tanker floats above

We talk a lot about the space program here on the Journey, but it's important to know that humanity is pushing at all the frontiers, from Antarctica to the sea bottom.  And in all such dangerous endeavors, there are tragedies as well as triumphs.  Sacrifice is part of the bargain we make for survival of the species, but it never goes down any easier.  Especially for his wife, Mary Lou, and their three children…

Davy Jones has company

In less tragic news, the latest issue of F&SF is filled with the kind of madcap, surreal adventures you might expect to find on the (sadly cancelled) The Monkees, particularly the first tale:

cover painting showing a lovely bust of a young black woman and a side profile of a young Jewish man
by Ronald Walotsky, illustrating the title story

Calliope and Gherkin and the Yankee Doodle Thing, by Evelyn E. Smith

Like, far out—two Greenwich Village type 17 year-olds, the Jewish "Gherkin" and his Black girlfriend "Calliope" are set up to take the biggest trip of their life.  Like, they don't trip out on acid or pot, but literally are snatched for a jaunt to the stars, where they hook up with some of the sexiest green-furred cats you ever did saw.

Was it all an illusion?  Or were they really summoned beyond the stars for stud duty?  The plot thickens when Calliope begins to show in a motherly way…

This is the first I've seen of Evelyn E. Smith since she was a frequent star of Galaxy in the early '50s.  Her chatty, droll style translates pretty well into the modern day, with her madcap, satirical melange of race relations, drug culture, and extraterrestrial high jinks.  It runs, perhaps, a bit overlong, and also overdense, but it's not unenjoyable.  Welcome back!

Three stars.

Party Night, by Reginald Bretnor

Carce is a scheming woman-user, all veneer and bitterness.  When his multi-year attempts to seduce the woman he wants from her husband fails, he goes on a driving jag that plunges him further and further into a night determined to karmically repay him.  The pay-off is horrific, though appropriate.

Typical Twilight Zone or Hitchcock stuff, but nicely presented.

Four stars.

cartoon of a man in a phone booth looking down in surprise at a discarded Superman costume
by Gahan Wilson

After Enfer, by Philip Latham

A milquetoast of a man, paralyzed by fear, decides (at the urging of his wife) to find a better job than the museum position he's been stuck in for 16 years.  He is recruited to explore the Nth Dimensions with an eye toward opening up tesseractal space for colonization, the world being intensely overcrowded. 

We never get no details of the trip; we just know that no one has ever managed to deal with the terror of 3D+ space before.  Frankly, without that, the story is just sort of frivolous and a let down.

Two stars.

The Leftovers, by Sterling E. Lanier

The latest Brigadier Ffellowes shaggy-dog-story-told-in-a-pub-setting is the least of the three Lanier has written thus far.  This time, it's about a Paleozoic race of sinister, intelligent bipeds that inhabit the southern coast of Arabia, and how the Brigadier and his Sudanese sidekick narrowly escape their pursuit.

Lovecraft was doing such stories better many decades ago.  A low three stars.

An Affair with Genius, by Joseph Green

Valence is a gifted biologist, plodding and methodical.  For twelve years, he has been estranged from Valerie, a volatile genius in the same field, with whom he had shared a brief but remarkable relationshop.  Success tore them apart, as she got the credit for their landmark discovery, and then seemingly abandoned him for a senior professor.

So, when she reappears in his life on the desiccating planet of Tau Ceti 2 where Valence had been researching the colony life forms that eke out a bleak existence, he is shattered, even to the point of contemplating her death.

Fate intervenes in the form of a sudden sand storm, and Valence must save Valerie's life.  In the ensuing moment he comes to the realization that without her, he was nothing–just a persistent technician, while Valerie had all the real talent.

But the truth is more complicated; sometimes, it takes yin and yang to make a complete unit…

This is a beautiful story.  Perhaps I'm just the intended audience, but I loved it.  Five stars.

Just Right, by Isaac Asimov

The Good Doctor offers up, this month, a piece on the square-cube law—explaining why it's not possible to simply shrink or grow the scale of an object and think it will be subject to the same physical laws.  He lambasts the TV show Land of the Giants in the process, as is appropriate.

It's a good article, and the final sentence is hilarious.  Four stars.

The Day the Wind Died, by Peter Tate

An old man squats on his roof, in a senile dream reliving his days as an ace in World War I, planning to soar on artificial wings he has just purchased.  His son Charlie, a harried weatherman, drops a mirror while shaving.  His son notices that the wind around their house has abruptly stopped, and he believes his father caused it.  He tells his friends.

And the plainclothes agents for the Bureau for the Investigation of Weather Incidents takes notice, certain that Charlie has stilled the wind for nefarious purposes—to ensure his father falls to his death when he takes to the sky on his wings.

Is Charlie a wizard?  Who are these agents?  Is this our world at all?

A surreal, rather puzzling story.  I give it three stars.

Benji's Pencil, by Bruce McAllister

Maxwell, an English teacher, wakes from cold sleep two centuries hence only to find the world crammed with people and utterly lacking in color.  But beauty exists as long as poetry is possible, and Maxwell makes sure that his multi-great grandson has the power of simile before the teacher is sent to the euthanasia chamber at age 70.

The story is written in a hopeful tone, but the subtext is entirely cynical.  As usual, McAllister shows promise, but there is still a rawness that holds his work back from greatness.

Three stars.

Coming up for air

A good issue, this, and thankfully, no one had to risk perishing to explore these frontiers.  Then again, perhaps it is prose daydreams like the ones in F&SF that drive men to explore onward.  No coin is without two sides, I suppose.

Here's to future expeditions, both literary and actual, and safe travels to all who undertake them!

back painting showing a green-furred woman in the distance waving
by Ronald Walotsky



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Science Fiction/Fantasy, TV

[February 20, 1969] The Old Man and the She (Star Trek: "Requiem for Methuselah")

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by Joe Reid

This week’s episode of Star Trek will likely turn many members of the audience into devout Buddhists.  It’s an episode which stands as a reminder of the destructive nature of desire and why the devotees of the Buddha eschew that emotion.  “Requiem for Methuselah” showcased a level of desire that proved more contagious and damaging than any infectious fever.

title card over Enterprise in orbit over a red planet, a golden moon above the limb of the world

The show started with the Enterprise in orbit of Holberg 917-G, in the Omega system.  3 crew members had died and 23 were sick with Rigelian Fever.  Kirk, Spock, and McCoy beamed down the planet in search of ryetalyn, a mineral that could cure the ill.

As they were about to split up to locate the vital substance, a hovering robot reminiscent of Nomad, from “The Changeling”, showed up and fired on them.  It rendered their weapons useless and had them cornered until “Do not kill!” was shouted by a voice whose owner was out of view.

A spherical robot of gray steel floats menacingly in front of Kirk, Spock, and McCoy, who have their phasers out
"You are the Kirk?  The Creator?"

A finely dressed older man with a Caesar haircut revealed himself, demanding that they leave the planet. Kirk and crew would not be deterred and threatened they would take the ryetalyn if they had to.  The man, named Flint, said that he could kill Kirk, implying that the crew and the starship were no threat to him.  McCoy pleaded with Flint, saying that Rigelian fever was on par with Bubonic plague.  This caused Flint to think back to the city of Constantinople and what the plague had done to the people there.  Flint relented and allowed the crew to stay, while his flying robot, M-4 (likely unrelated to M-5 from “The Ultimate Computer”), went off to gather ryetalyn.  Flint promised that M-4 could gather the materials faster than they could.  Being that those who were sick on the Enterprise had only four hours before the disease progressed, McCoy and the others agreed to allow it.

Image of Flint, an older man in a ceasar hair cut, a futuristic Shakespearian noble outfit, complete with tights, standing in a blue-walled room with a Renaissance painting on the wall
"What else can I get you?  A bag of reds?  Keys to my Mercedes?  An original copy of the U.S. Constitution?

Flint took the trio to his castle.  Inside Spock noticed a treasure trove of classic art.  Art from DaVinci.  Music from Brahms and other fineries.  Flint left them alone to enjoy some brandy, after telling them that he lived alone with only M-4 as company, while in another part of the castle, a lovely young woman watched Kirk and the others on a screen.

Rayna, sitting in a chair and wearing a polychrome, metallic gown, views a cream-colored flat screen
"I do so love that Johnny Carson!"

Flint entered the room and spoke to the young beauty, named Rayna.  She looked on the other men with desire and said she wanted to meet them, since she had never met other people besides Flint.

As M-4 returned with the ryetalyn, Spock continued to marvel at the priceless art pieces housed in the castle, but he also noted that they were created using modern materials and not ancient ones.  Flint then entered and sent M-4 away to prepare the ryetalyn, with the promise that it would be completed faster than it could be on the Enterprise.

As an apology for his initial rudeness, Flint introduced Kirk and the others to Rayna, her very presence being as a gift to the men in attendance.  At first sight, desire for the beautiful young woman flooded Kirk’s eyes.  Flint’s method of apology apparently landed well with Kirk in particular.

Image of Rayna and Kirk, leaning over a pool table with a cue ball and two red balls; Rayna is helping Kirk with his cue fingering
Rayna teaches Kirk how to hold his stick

The introduction of Rayna started the main arc of the episode in earnest.  Her beauty and intelligence seemed to have stirred something in Kirk rather quickly.  She in turn began to explore emotions that she had never felt before due to Kirk’s focus on her.

The desire between Kirk and Rayna was visible and out in the open, whereas Flint was a man filled with deep desires that he protected viciously.  The story also revealed him as a man of many secrets, holding so many of them that it was not until we finally learned the truth about him and also about Rayna, that the real danger of the episode took hold.

In the end, the painful desire and vast longing on display in this episode brought one character to complete ruin and threatened to destroy the rest in their wake. 

In conclusion, outside of the insane speed at which Kirk falls for Rayna, this episode had an interesting plot and premise.  The characters seemed compelling and the type of people that would be tempting to see on adventures of their own.  Suffice it to say, that Rayna and Flint didn’t feel disposable to me as other characters often do.  Also, the narrative twists and surprises near the end were not overly foreshadowed.  They took me by surprise and I appreciated that.  Now, if I can just find a Buddhist temple to ensure I remain free of what happened in this episode.

Four stars

What Could Have Been


by Janice L. Newman

“I’m tired of broken episodes,” my daughter said wearily after the credits had finished rolling. I couldn’t help but agree. For the past several weeks, we’ve had frustrating episode after frustrating episode, made all the more dissatisfying because in every case, we can see what could have been.

With shows like Voyage to the Bottom of the Sea, the plots are generally silly enough not to be taken seriously. But we’ve seen just how good Star Trek can be, and it’s obvious that the script writers are trying. Sadly the most recent batch of episodes has been filled with poor characterization of our beloved crew, plots that made no sense, stories that tried to Say Something but stumbled over their words, and things that…well…just didn’t feel like Star Trek!

The most recent episode suffered from many of these ailments. For one, it had two conflicting plots: the epidemic on board the ship and the mystery of the old man and his ‘daughter’ on the planet. A competent version of the script would have played these two threads off of each other, keeping the viewers in suspense about whether the captain and his men would be able to bring back the cure in time. But since all three crewmembers treat the epidemic situation casually, it’s hard for the viewers to take it seriously or become invested in it. We never see anyone sick on the ship, so it’s up to Shatner, Nimoy, and Kelley to give us a sense of urgency. Instead, Spock is intrigued by the mystery surrounding Flint and Kirk far too quickly becomes enamored with Rayna. Their constant distraction feels out of character and irresponsible to the point of dereliction of duty. Yet it could have been good with a few changes.

Then, too, the plot thread of Rayna’s humanity could have been great. Star Trek has played with the idea of androids or computers with emotions before, but mostly it's used the concept as a plot device where such feelings can be leveraged as tools to trick or confuse hostile mechanical beings. Rayna’s awakening to human emotions could have been poignant and meaningful. Instead it felt cheap and forced. I could even have accepted her becoming infatuated with Kirk since he was one of the first humans she’d ever met besides Flint. But Captain Kirk returning her feelings is patently ridiculous, particularly given the extremely short amount of time they knew each other, her utter lack of personality, and the fact that his entire crew were hours away from painful deaths. By making the story mainly about Kirk’s feelings instead of hers, the writer really missed the mark. Two of the major problems could have been easily fixed if Kirk was focused on helping his crew while Rayna actually expressed her growing feelings for him (or for another character—either Spock or McCoy would have been a more interesting choice).

Image of Flint leaning heavily against his chair, as if greatly moved and, perhaps, dismayed

Image of an image on the flat screen viewer of Kirk and Rayna kissing
Flint watches his home-made stag film; good thing his peep show has a good cinematographer!

The interplay between Spock and McCoy was good as always, partly because Kelley is such a pro in his delivery, while Nimoy’s ‘stoic face’ is excellent. But Spock’s choice at the end killed any good will the story had managed to scrape together. The idea that Kirk, no matter what he said in a moment of weakness, would willingly submit to having his memory erased is ludicrous. Even setting aside the events of Dagger of the Mind, where he had his memory toyed with, this is a starship captain we’re talking about. I cannot believe that he would truly want a memory, even a painful one, removed. And I likewise cannot believe that Spock would do such a thing without permission. It was an interesting idea, but once again the execution fell flat because it felt all wrong. If it had been a different crewmember, McCoy for example, and if he’d given his permission, it could have been an amazing moment. Instead, it was ugly and nauseating. Quite simply, it didn’t feel like Star Trek, or at least not the Star Trek I love: where women are treated with respect, Spock would never take advantage of his captain even in the name of ‘helping’ him, and Kirk actually cares about his crew.

Two stars, because inside the bad episode there was still a good episode trying to get out.

Just Another Pretty Face


by Lorelei Marcus

I found Louise Sorel's depiction of Rayna to be vaguely reminiscent of another blonde android I'd seen on TV a few years before: her stiff head tilts and unfocused gaze reminded me of Julie Newmar's Rhoda, the superhuman, do-it-all robot thrust into Bob Cumming's unwilling care on My Living Doll.

As Rhoda's guardian, Cummings had to ensure her artificial nature was kept secret, but this became increasingly difficult due to Rhoda's extraordinary abilities.  The show shouldn't have worked, but despite Cummings' off-putting performance and his character's incompetence, it hung together—thanks to Julie Newmar's incredible physical comedy and skill.  Be it the countless amusing ways Rhoda misinterpreted commands, or her incredibly mixed up piano performance, or the way she instantly slumped whenever anyone pressed the little "off button" on her back, Rhoda was a wonderfully funny character and (more importantly) individual, and she was the reason I tuned in every week to watch the show.

Image of Bob Cummings in a suit next to Julie Newmar in an evening gown; a title card says Also Starring Julie Newmar as The Doll

The same, sadly, cannot be said for Rayna.  While it's true that wacky humor wouldn't suit the character nor the tone of the episode, any form of charisma would have made Rayna better than the blank slate we got.  The only details we know about her are the number of degrees she has, and that she would have liked to have had a conversation with Spock—something she never actually gets to do.

Instead, she's whisked into a forced, 20-minute romance with Kirk, in which we continue to learn nothing about her personally.  Then she dies, unable to make a single choice for herself because of the clashing desires of other people.  Bleah.

For all that we've had too many Kirk love interests this season, I'm going to make the unpopular assertion that this one could have worked.  I think Rayna could have so bewitched Kirk that he would lose sight of the urgency of saving his ship and crew, but for that to work, she would have needed to make us fall in love with her, too.  Reduced to a pretty face, without initiative nor personality, I can't imagine she'd be able to seduce Ensign Chekov, much less Captain Kirk!  For the missed opportunity of an interesting character, and the loss of integrity of everyone else's character as a result, I give this episode 1.5 stars.

"Train up a child in the way that he should go" — King Solomon


by Erica Frank

I planned to write about Rayna – about the utter ridiculousness of "the equivalent of 17 university degrees in sciences and art" as judged by one man. About her claim that Flint is "the greatest, kindest, wisest man in the galaxy," based on her vast experience of… an hour spent in the company of three other men.

Those made more sense after she was revealed as an android, programmed rather than taught. Others have already mentioned how bland her robotic tabula rasa personality was, without managing to be quirky or entertaining.

I find myself more interested in Flint. The man who claims to be (presumably is, in the Star Trek universe) Methuselah, Solomon, Lazarus, Alexander the Great, Merlin, Leonardo da Vinci, and Johannes Brahms. An artist, inventor, and wizard: his ultimate creation is the woman he falls in love with.

Flint and Rayna view what looks to modern eyes like a flat-screen television
Did he invent the paper-thin large-screen television as well? Can I get one of those?

…Whom he promptly loses to a broken heart; he failed to teach her anything about how to make hard choices, how to find a solution when both options will hurt someone. …Just what did those 17 degrees cover? Any study of history should be packed with examples of art made in despair after facing choices with no good outcomes.

But why should she be facing a no-good-options choice? After six thousand years of human life, in an array of different cultures, can he not contemplate a relationship with more than two people? Solomon had 700 wives, but Flint today cannot handle the idea of a wife with two husbands?

Close-up of Flint with a pensive expression.
Flint despairs that Rayna might care for someone other than him.

Ah, but Rayna doesn't see him as a husband yet—no surprise, since he's been telling her he raised her from childhood, like a parent. If she was to be his mate, why didn't he teach her that: "Someday, when you are ready, we will be married—full partners who love each other." She would've been looking forward to some unknown change, some nebulous marker of full adulthood, to take her place by his side. (With or without Kirk as a harem-boy on the side.) Instead, he treated her like a daughter, like a student, not like someone intended to be his peer.

Setting aside all of that—and much more that I didn't mention—once he had perfected Rayna, why didn't he just make another one after Kirk left? Even if he's limited to a normal human lifespan now, there's time to try again.

Kirk leans over Rayna #16, who is deactivated on a bed, with red hair. Behind her, covered in blankets, are Raynas 14 and 15
The current Rayna is 17.  One more and she's legal!

Two stars. The idea of Methuselah changing identities and living throughout human history is fascinating, but it is bungled here.

Too Many Beaches to Walk On


by Gideon Marcus

One of our readers sends us letters after every episode.  He has developed a rating system not on quality, but on the number of times an element or device is used in an episode.  For instance, "Wig Trek" (if there are wigs in evidence), "Cave Trek" (if there is a subterranean setting), etc.

He recently introduced a new scale: "Love Trek".  More and more often, we see one member of the crew or another falling in love.  This theme has been used to good effect in shows like "This Side of Paradise" (Spock falls in love, or at least, is able to express his love), "The City on the Edge of Forever" (a better case of "Tahiti Syndrome" than "The Paradise Syndrome", honestly), and "Spectre of the Gun" (Chekov and the saloon girl, whose name I can't remember.) It is less tolerable in any case involving Scotty, as the engineer, when lovelorn, becomes a moron.  C'est l'amour, I guess.

It is least tolerable when it's Captain Kirk.  Oh sure, the Enterprise's skipper has developed a reputation for randiness over the course of the last three years, but usually, said reputation is actually undeserved.  For the most part, Kirk is the pursued rather than the pursuer, or he uses sex as a weapon, kissing antagonists until they submit.  First season Kirk was positively chaste, and he recognized that his supreme obligation was to the Enterprise.  Afflicted by the alcohol-like effects of the Psi 2000 disease in "The Naked Time", Kirk laments that he has no time, no capacity for love—"no beach to walk on."

It's something of a tragedy, but it's also a poignant and useful character trait.  The scene in "This Side of Paradise", when Kirk's fidelity to his ship shakes the influence of the Lotus-Eater spores of Omicron Ceti Three in "This Side of Paradise", is still perhaps my favorite of the series.  In "Elaan of Troyius", when Kirk is made a thrall of Elaan by her love-inducing tears, the audience knows he will break their influence once his ship is put in danger—and he does.

So howthehell does Kirk find the love of his life in less than five minutes of dancing with Rhoda Rayna the Robot?  Especially such a bland, nonentity of a not-woman?  (If she'd been played by Julie Newmar, there might have been some—not much, but some—justification.) Kirk's entire crew is dying.  He is dying.  His crew is his ship.  Yet he carouses, drinks brandy, banters about Brahms and Da Vinci with Spock, and generally acts as if he is on shore leave rather than less than four hours from the death of his first and greatest love.

In a sumptuous drawing room, Spock, McCoy, and Kirk hold glasses filled with amber Saurian brandy
These three really look like they're worried about the imminent death of the Enterprise crew…

The episode is not utterly horrible.  As Janice notes, there are some intriguing elements.  That it has some resemblance with Forbidden Planet doesn't do it any favors, but both share an ancestry that goes back to The Tempest, so I can forgive that.

But the utter savaging of Kirk's character, not to mention Spock's uncharacteristic blasé attitude, his sudden role as a love guru, and his casual use of the Vulcan Mind Touch (remember when using such was all but tabu?) makes me hate this episode in hindsight all the more.

1.5 stars.

[Come join us tomorrow (February 21st) for the next thrilling episode of Star Trek!  KGJ is broadcasting the show live with commercials and accompanied by trekzine readings at 8pm Eastern and Pacific.  You won't want to miss it…]





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