That might be true for most ordinary Hollywood productions playing at your local theater, anyway. However, if you sneak downtown to one of the seedier movie houses, you might wonder if the Hays Code has any real meaning these days.
We've already dived into this cinematic underworld some time ago, with a discussion of the extremely silly movie Nude on the Moon. Like other so-called nudie cuties, there's a certain innocence to it, despite the display of unclothed female flesh.
There's a category of nudies known as roughies, adding violence to the naked women in order to provide even sleazier thrills. That wouldn't normally be my cup of tea, but I have to admit that a recent ad for one of these things caught my eye as I was walking past a disreputable theater.
I snuck my way into the darkened theater and got ready for a truly unusual viewing experience.
A Krazy Kat And Three Blind Mice
Let's get the dirty stuff out of the way first. The sequences featuring naked women were obviously added to the original film later. They don't look anything at all like the main part of the movie, so we can disregard them.
What we really have here is a variation on Richard Connell's famous story The Most Dangerous Game, which reached the silver screen way back in 1932. (Try to catch the original on your local Shock Theater TV program. It's quite good.)
Confessions of a Psycho Cat retains the basic concept of hunting human beings for sport, but otherwise bears little resemblance to its inspiration. For one thing, the hunter is a woman.
We begin with our villainess, Virginia, saying goodbye to her brother at the airport. He's off to Africa to do some big game hunting. (Do you sense a theme developing?) Virginia usually goes with him, but her psychiatrist recommended that she stay home and recover from a nervous breakdown.
We then jump right into a scene of a guy running for his life. He manages to reach the apartment of some of his friends (insert unrelated nude party scene here) and tells them he's been shot. A flashback tells us what's going on.
It seems that Virginia brought three men together in order to offer them a very strange deal. If they'll allow her to hunt them down for twenty-four hours, she'll pay each one who escapes one hundred thousand dollars.
Each of the three men killed someone and escaped punishment. I guess this is Virginia's way of having fun while administering a kind of rough justice. She also thinks of each one as a specific type of animal. From left to right in the above scene of Virginia and the trio of intended victims, we have:
Buddy, a drug addict. He accidentally gave his girlfriend a fatal overdose of heroin. He's a jackal.
Charles, a stage actor. He murdered his wife's lover. He's a lion.
Rocco, a boxer. He killed an opponent in the ring. He's a bull.
I should mention here that all the characters are portrayed by totally unknown performers, with the exception of Rocco. He's played by well-known boxer Jake "Raging Bull" LaMotta, appropriately enough. (I wonder if the concept of symbolizing the men with animals came about when he was cast in the role.)
The three guys figure it'll be easy enough to hide out for a day and then collect the loot. Virginia cleverly uses their individual weaknesses to lure them into her traps. She makes Charles think he's got a chance for a big role. She accuses hot-tempered Rocco of being a coward. Of course, Buddy needs a dose of heroin.
While all this is going on, we learn about the traumatic incident during her childhood that made Virginia a Psycho Cat. Suffice to say that it puts her supposedly sane brother in a very bad light. By the end of the movie, Virginia is completely insane.
Obviously made on a very small budget, this modest little thriller has a certain gritty appeal. Filmed on location in New York City, with frequent use of a handheld camera, it sometimes feels like a very weird documentary. The highlight of the movie is the battle between Virginia and Rocco. I don't want to give too much away, but the fact that he's supposed to be a bull may give you a hint.
The irrelevant nude scenes are an annoying distraction, although there's one that made me laugh. When Rocco is on the phone with Virginia, there's supposedly a woman in the room with him. It's really, really obvious that the two characters aren't on the same set. In a bizarre scene, the woman kisses her reflection passionately.
If you can work up the nerve to walk into a place showing this thing, you may find it more enjoyable than you'd expect. If nothing else, the actress playing Virginia gives a really wild performance, whether she's hunter, matador, or little girl.
Give this kooky kitty a chance, and you may wind up purring.
Or, if you're ashamed to show your face in a nudie theater, you can stay home and watch the news.
by Gideon Marcus
Harlan is back with another money-grab collection, this time from Belmont. Actually, I don't know how complicit Ellison actually is given that he was furious that Belmont reprinted Doomsman without his consent. Still, he did contribute forewords to all the stories.
And that's really the reason to get this collection, since almost everything in it has appeared somewhere else before.
Where the Stray Dreams Go
One of the niftier pieces in the book, and the one fresh publication, this is not a story but a collection of aborted story fragments. We may see them grow into complete stories someday. Or perhaps, now that they have been born, after a fashion, this is their final form. Four stars.
This one was in Ellison Wonderland and I still feel the same way. The idea that the universe is already inhabited by superior beings should not be as damaging to the racial ego as Ellison believes. Three stars.
The ninth (and first successful) trip around the moon, manned by a solo pilot, is threatened by a stowaway. It's got a gimmick you'll see a mile away. Three stars.
The Time of the Eye
from The Saint Mystery Magazine, May 19591
A Korean war vet meets a beautiful blind woman during rehabilitation. He falls for her, hard, but it turns out the tragic cause of the woman's injury is communicable…
A wounded spaceman is trapped in his life hutch by a deranged robot. Can he defeat the mechanical monster before it smashes him to bits?
This one appeared in Ellison's first collection, A Touch of Infinity (1960). Four stars.
Battle Without Banners
from Taboo, (1964)
Society's refuse (e.g. the Jews and the non-lily-white) are packed into prisons. This is the story of one brave squad's attempt to break out. But the jail they live in is really called "society".
This one was written for Taboo, a sort of precursor to Dangerous Visions, including such luminaries as Charles Beaumont and Fritz Leiber. It's a good piece, if a bit maudlin. Three or four stars, I can't really decide.
The creator of the first sentient robot gets his revenge on a cruel world. When said android makes a 300 year round-trip to Alpha Centauri, his back wages amount to more than the value of the world, and since the robot was granted person-hood, there's no way out of the deal.
Even Ellison concedes that the plot doesn't work, but he likes it anyway.
This one also appeared in Ellison's first collection, A Touch of Infinity (1960). Three stars.
After the last war, a loyal servant robot welcomes his new masters, though not without a touch of regret.
This one suffers for having the exact same ending as the prior robot story (Ellison writes so much, he's never above lifting from himself). But it is nicely written. Four stars.
A two-page "after-the-bomb" story to end all "after-the-bomb" stories, published in the latest issue of Terry Carr's semi-prozine Lighthouse (I read it there, too).
I laughed. Five stars for this skewering of cliché TV writers.
The longest single piece of the book is also the best. A private soldier named Qarlo is warped by a freak accident into the past. After being subdued and interrogated, he is put to his most effective use–telling his story as a cautionary tale against the ills of war.
Can't argue with this one, either the morality or the storytelling. Five stars.
This is the Ellison episode I missed (I did catch Demon with a Glass Hand, which was good). But Natalie enjoyed it, and I hope I see it in rerun.
I feel that the story is far less impactful than its source material, but then, judging a show from a script is like judging a sculpture from its shadow. I will say that, having read it, I now feel like I have an idea how to turn my Kitra books into a TV show…
Anyway, I won't rate this–it's invaluable if you're interested, and somewhat superfluous if you're not.
From the Land of Hype
My problem with Ellison is a personal one. There's no doubt but that he's a brilliant writer. You're never bored reading his stuff. The thing is Harlan offers no viewpoint but his own; he just communicates it so well as to make you feel it's "the truth" rather than just "his opinion."
But Harlan and I are so diametrically opposed, constitutionally, that it always rings a bit false. Harlan's never had long-term luck with ladies (though he bemoans the incessant interest he gets from women thanks to his "talent"). I've been happily married for 25 years. Harlan has no sense of time; I am punctual to a fault. Harlan famously has no tact and carries life-long grudges. I have some sense of diplomacy, and I tend to forgive and forget.
I'm not saying there's anything wrong with Ellison–he is who he is–but it means that the belchings of his id, no matter how exquisitely crafted, never quite resonate with me. This makes most of his stories fall into a sort of 3.75 star slush in my mind.
They're still worth reading, though. He is a genius.
Last month, I wrote about the first human-to-human heart transplant by Dr. Christiaan Barnard in South Africa. It paired rather nicely with the start of the new Larry Niven serial. Niven’s serial continues, and heart transplants are still in the news.
On January 2nd, Dr. Barnard performed a second heart transplant. The patient this time was 58-year-old dentist Philip Blaiberg, receiving his new heart from 24-year-old Clive Haupt, who died of a massive cerebral hemorrhage. Mr. Blaiberg is still in the hospital as I write this, but is in good condition. Doctors aren’t sure when he’ll be able to return home, however they are hopeful.
Dr. Barnard (I.) and Philip Blaiberg (r.), probably before the surgery.
Just four days later, on the 6th, Dr. Norman Shumway performed the first successful heart transplant in the United States. Here, the recipient was 54-year-old steelworker Mike Kasparek (or Casparak, I’ve seen both in print), and the donor was 43-year-old Virginia May White, who was also the victim of a cerebral hemorrhage (sadly, while celebrating her 22nd wedding anniversary). Unfortunately, Mr. Kasperak only survived for 15 days, dying of liver failure on the 21st. Dr. Shumway has suggested that the new heart was the only functioning organ Mr. Kasparek had and said that greater care will need to be taken in the selection of prospective transplant patients.
Dr. Shumway at a press conference last fall (l.), Mike Kasperak and his wife, Ferne (r.)
Same old song
It’s business as usual in this month’s IF. We’ve got familiar faces giving us what we expect (good and bad), a newish name starting to show up in the American magazines, and our first time author.
This unpleasing collage is for Harlan’s new story. Art by Wenzel
Long ago, in an effort to control the weather, humanity caused the sun to become overactive. This wiped out civilization, killed off many species, and mutated others. Now, the ants rule the Earth, having merged to become the Racemind. They have bred many species back from extinction and telepathically control many to serve them. When strange crystal beings and others made purely of light begin to raid their farms and take over their slaves, the ants realize they have ignored the rest of the world for too long.
Part of the scouting party investigating the crystal entities. Art by Virgil Finlay
Imagine if J. G. Ballard wrote a 1920s-type, far-future fate of the Earth story. I have a fairly low tolerance for Ballard’s style, but Redd makes it work. This is a good story, with caveats. It’s a bit too long, and more importantly it’s hampered by not having any actual characters. If that Ballard-pulp combination sounds interesting, or if you like Ballard’s strange ecology stories, you’ll probably like this.
Jared is the preeminent mercenary leader in the galaxy, the man planetary governments seek out when they want to conquer the worlds of other star systems. He’s incredibly expensive, and worth it. But he’ll only take certain jobs. That’s because he’s actually working toward a personal goal, aided by the Machine, a computer he designed and built himself early in his career.
Jared consults the Machine. Art by Gaughan
This story has a more traditional structure than a lot of what Harlan’s written of late, but don’t let that fool you. It’s all Ellison: dark, sad, maybe a little more hopeful than usual.
Four stars.
Deadlier Specie, by David A. Kyle
Gregory MacKenzie is an exobiologist on Mars. He’s been kidnapped by aliens so that they can learn how humans think before a meeting with the chief diplomat from the U. N.
There’s almost a good story here. Unfortunately, it’s full of questionable puns and, worse still, ends with an implied sexist joke.
Two stars.
Caterpillar Express, by Robert A. Margroff
In a North America fractured by war, Bondman Y is investigating the disappearance of several trains (which are pulled by giant Venusian caterpillars). He’ll have to join forces with his counterparts from unfriendly nations to survive.
Y discovers the culprits behind the hijackings. Art by Vaughn Bodé
For some reason, Fred Pohl seems to like Margroff’s work, but I’ve never been impressed. This story hasn’t changed my mind. Dumb jokes, dumb plot. ‘Nuff said.
Two stars.
At Nycon #3, by Lin Carter
After a month’s absence, Our Man in Fandom delivers his report on the Worldcon in New York last year. Or at least the first half of it. This is mostly name-dropping. If you’re interested in the Worldcon, you’re better off reading the Journey’s con report. It’s more informative and has pictures.
Barely three stars, entirely for somewhat engaging writing.
Squatter’s Rights, by Hank Davis
An alien intelligence has an important message for humanity.
Just some vague atmosphere. Art by Gaughan
There’s not much to say about the story from this month’s new author. It shows some talent, it’s a little different, and it’s short.
On the planet Plateau, Matt Keller has become involved with the Sons of Earth, who hope to overthrow the rule of the crew and become more than a labor force and source of organs. When the group was arrested, Matt managed to escape thanks to his strange ability to make people forget he exists. Meanwhile, a mysterious new technology has arrived from Earth via unmanned ramjet. As the last installment ended, Matt had entered the Hospital in the hope of setting the others free.
Matt stages a massive jailbreak, but only a handful—those close enough to him to benefit from his special ability—escape. This group includes Harry Kane, the group’s leader. He leads them to a house he expects to be empty so they can plan further. Intermingled with the escape, we follow chief policeman Jesus Pietro Castro as he leads the capture of the others.
The scene then shifts to planetary leader Millard Parlette, as he prepares to give a speech to the crew about the latest gift from Earth. This is just three and a half pages of exposition. But after the speech Parlette coincidentally goes to the house where Matt and the others are hiding. This allows him to make contact with Kane and begin working out an accord. Meanwhile, Matt and another of the rebels have infiltrated the Hospital again, but with different goals. This leads to them splitting up. To be concluded.
Matt leaves a message. Art by Adkins
There’s a lot of action this month, interspersed with nearly Heinlein-ian levels of political philosophy. Niven isn’t nearly as gifted at the latter as Heinlein, but it’s still an interesting exploration of the effects of a new technology on a society. The large chunk of exposition from Parlette’s notes is less successful. Watching him cut chunks of the speech because his listeners should know the information is a slight improvement over the cliched “As you know, Bob…” of old, but it’s still clunky. It also left me wondering how much of the speech notes are actually Niven’s notes for the novel.
A solid, slightly above average three stars.
Summing up
Fred Pohl opens this issue with another editorial rant against the New Wave. He seems to have decided that the movement is one of style over substance, while he’s more concerned with story, only liking stylistic experimentation if the story calls for it. I don’t know how he then justifies that Bob Sheckley acid trip last month, and his protests that the Redd in this issue isn’t New Wave ring a bit hollow to me. In any case, it looks as though we shouldn’t expect any real innovations in IF in the months to come.
A new Silverberg novel. That could be interesting. It might even be innovative.
Only the best of science fiction challenges us to question the laws of physics and our reality. In this, "The Immunity Syndrome" does not disappoint. This episode takes a similar phenomenon as was seen in "The Doomsday Machine" and "Obsession" where a mind-numbingly dangerous sentient entity is found cutting a swath of destruction through space and the Enterprise is sent to find a way to stop it. This time, however, the nature of this space organism is so far beyond our experience that it has stunning implications for both the nature of humanity and for life itself.
We open on an already exhausted crew heading toward a well deserved break before they are yanked off course by a Priority 1 distress signal. As they are being informed that Starfleet has lost contact with an entire solar system and the Vulcan-crewed star ship that was sent to investigate, Spock nearly collapses onto his console. Teeth gritted in agony, he exclaims that the Intrepid and every member of its 400-strong Vulcan crew is dead.
We soon find out that Spock was right, that both the Intrepid and an entire solar system has been wiped out under mysterious circumstances. In sickbay, McCoy inquires as to how Spock could possibly have known the moment it happened and he replies with what is probably my favorite line in the entire show: "I've noticed that about your people, Doctor, you find it easier to understand the death of one than the death of a million. You speak about the objective hardness of the Vulcan heart, yet how little room there seems to be in yours."
A now more somber and grief-rattled Spock returns to the bridge and the crew resumes investigating the source of this massacre. They soon stumble on a starless patch of space that appears to be a hole in the viewscreen. Being unable to gain any knowledge from a probe launched towards it, Captain Kirk decides to take the ship closer to get a better look. With a sudden piercing noise, the ship finds itself fully enveloped in this absence of stars. Immediately half the crew collapses, their life forces suddenly drained. Scottie informs the bridge that the deflectors and power cells have suffered a similar fate. Eventually it is surmised that the Enterprise has been ensnared in a spider's web of some kind, a negative zone of energy created as a consequence (deliberate or otherwise) of a massive creature's movement through space. This creature is apparently structured like a single celled organism that consumes energy in order to reproduce and expand its influence across the universe, like a bacterial cell would as it infected a host body.
After a lot of scrambling and trial and error, the Captain and crew discover that the only way to find this creature's weakness is by sending a shuttle inside of it. This leaves Captain Kirk in the unenviable position of having to choose which of his two best friends, Spock or McCoy, will pilot the shuttle and likely never return. With a heavy heart, he chooses Spock, and even McCoy has a hard time making light of the situation the way he usually does, reluctantly watching as Spock makes his funeral march to the shuttlecraft.
Spock and McCoy: a no-win decision.
Of course the crew narrowly eke out a win, the organism is killed, and the trio is reunited in the end; yet it is the questions that arise from the existence of this creature that linger on past its demise: "Where did it come from?" "Is this the beginning of an invasion?" "Is the universe itself an ecosystem with perceivable edges?" "Did this creature come from beyond those edges?" "Is the universe itself alive when viewed with a large enough lens?"
On a smaller scale, we are given another compelling morsel of mind-taffy in the new knowledge that Vulcans feel the dying minds of their own kind. A fascinating implication is that a genocide would be impossible on Vulcan because Vulcans literally feel pain when large amounts of their kind are slaughtered. McCoy echoes the sentiment of many audience members that humans do not envy this ability: "Suffer the death of thy neighbor, eh Spock? You wouldn't wish that on us would you?"
Spock sagely replies, "It might have rendered your history a bit less bloody."
Yet here I must disagree with Spock. Spock claims this Vulcan ability to avoid massacres gives them a survivalist edge over humans, yet it is this lack of experience with societal trauma that left them vulnerable in this case. They could not conceive that the annihilation of the Intrepid was even possible, and thus they literally died in disbelief.
This episode has the cleanest script I've seen in the series so far, and it gave my brain something to chew on with a rather satisfying crunch…5 stars
by Tam Phan (Secret Asian Man)
A Stoic’s Guide to Vulcanianism
“Damn your infernal Vulcan logic!” A sentiment expressed all too often by Dr. McCoy, but is it truly the logic that is so infuriating to the prickly old doctor? Spock’s virtual lack of emotion seems to be characterized as having stemmed from his dedication to logic, but we see logical decisions made by the captain even in his most emotional states. Even his hunches, acted on with no strong emotional component, are based on an assessment of the situation. He may not have a clear explanation at the ready, but those decisions are not made on a whim.
At the same time, we have seen Spock display genuine emotion. For example, in “Amok Time” when he exclaims, “Jim!” upon discovering that he is alive, and again at the very beginning of “The Immunity Syndrome”, whether it is grief, despair, or agony, when he is clearly suffering from the sudden death of 400 Vulcans. He would probably explain the phenomenon as pain, but I do not buy it.
Having been sent to sick bay, Spock is questioned by McCoy as to how he knew the Vulcans had died. As far as he knows, in order for Spock to know what someone or something is thinking, he had to have contact. Instead of answering the question in his usual way, Spock lashes back with what sounds like anger. As a result, it may be the most unclear he has ever been. When McCoy questions him further, he resorts to insults.
There are other occasions in the episode where Spock lets his feelings out, but this is not to nitpick about whether he has or displays them. The idea that emotion equals irrationality and a lack of emotion equals rationality is a dichotomy that has major issues even aside from the fact that it is not a true dichotomy. We know that Spock has emotions. Whether they come from his human side is not really important, but the idea that lacking emotion is somehow more logical is flawed. He is no more or less logical than anyone else on the ship. Rather, he has a clear understanding of what and why, and he carries out his duties with little excitement and characteristic coolness he calls "logic".
Lack of emotion does not equal logic. Emotion does not mean lack of logic.
It would be unfair to expect anyone to recognize this philosophy of virtue and ethics, but what the show presents is not a lack of emotion, or "logic", but Stoicism. Spock’s resistance to desires and fears and living with the virtues of wisdom, temperance, justice, and courage are classic tenets of Stoicism.
Taking a look at his demeanor, we start to see how Stoicism plays a significant role in the way he approaches the world. Being the chief science officer on the Enterprise, Spock is a truth seeker. He is an observer that accepts what is presented to him in his exploration of the universe. There is no expectation of what the universe should or should not be. He has faced the fear of death on numerous occasions stepping in to save his friends and colleagues. Kirk relentlessly demands to be given answers. Spock responds with the only correct answer in that situation (“insufficient data”) rather than speculation. Spock carries out his duties on the shuttle craft despite a likely fascination and a desire to study this new discovery. We can imagine McCoy acting in self-interest, but it never even crosses Spock’s mind. He has no judgments about the organism that killed the 400 Vulcans. It would be understandable if he had a sudden desire to seek revenge, but instead, he continues to carry out his duties on the ship.
McCoy’s frustrations with Spock are blamed on his logic, but so often it is merely his discipline and self-control that irritates the good doctor. What McCoy understands is that Spock keeps his feelings inside. It is not that he does not have them. He just infrequently acts on them. They both care for each other, but Spock would rather sacrifice himself for the ship. Thankfully McCoy is not having any of it. So “shut up Spock! We’re rescuing you!”
Five Stars
Amoebic Anatomy 101
by Joe Reid
This week on Star Trek we got a bit of an elementary school biology review, as the creature of the week was a humongous protozoa. What type of protozoa you ask? Well, there are actually 20 types of protozoa and this was a giant space monster on a weekly sci-fi show. Although, if I were to guess based on my general knowledge of actual science, this creature best resembled the amoebic variety of protozoa. I think they even called it an amoeba at some point in the episode. Let’s talk about how this giant twelve-thousand-mile-long amoeba compares to the amoeba that we learned about when we were children.
A real amoeba, at least, so Trek tells us.
In the interest of keeping this a reasonable comparison and not sounding ridiculous, we are going to completely ignore the following elements. The size difference. The ability to make pockets in space without starlight. The powerful attractive force that draws starships to their doom, and vacuum of outer space, which no protozoa known to modern science could survive.
The amoebas that we might find in our local pond water are single-celled living organisms that have the following structures: a nucleus, containing 13 chromosomes; an outer membrane, to hold in the gelatinous cytoplasm. In the cytoplasm there are various organelles. Along with the nucleus, you have a contractile vacuole, which helps in motion and fluid exchange, along with multiple food vacuoles to digest food. Mitochondria and other organelles also exist inside of amoeba.
The giant nemesis in “The Immunity Syndrome” had a nucleus, but this one had forty chromosomes. That’s six fewer than what humans have and a fair bit more than our microscopic analog. There was a cell membrane, but the Spock and Bones called the substance inside protoplasm. This is technically not completely wrong. Protoplasm refers to all living matter of a cell–including the cell membrane, cytoplasm, nucleus, and the organelles. All that said, the crew called the substance protoplasm when they should have called it cytoplasm. As, respectively, a doctor and a scientist, I expected better from Spock and McCoy.
Also, an amoeba that you look at under a microscope has a method of locomotion that involves creating pseudopodia by extending portions of its membrane to move itself about. Our space monster didn’t demonstrate this type of motion and it wasn’t mentioned in the episode, so I cannot count that against the accuracy of details. Outside of the nucleus, membrane, chromosomes and “protoplasm”, no other parts of the amoeba in the episode are called out by name. Did they exist? Perhaps. The crew was focused on finding the most efficient way of killing the dangerous monster before it caused any more harm and before it reproduced. Which in tiny amoeba can be done in two ways. A process called cellular fission, where the nucleus splits in two before the amoeba breaks off the rest of its parts and the membrane pinches off creating two daughter cells. Also, sporulation… but I digress.
Outside of the cytoplasm/protoplasm substitution, the number of chromosomes, and the space monster powers, the writers of this episode gave a passable representation of the anatomy of an amoeba. Is it enough to pass your Biology 101 quiz in school the next day? Heavens no! You need to hit those books, kiddo! This was good enough to not pull you out to the moment when watching what overall was a good episode of Trek with great acting, a decent plot, and dramatic tension. I liked it! I can even forgive the crew’s strange decision to fly right into a dark blob in space that had already killed another ship.
Four stars
The next episode of Trek is TONIGHT! You won't want to miss it:
Last week, we watched the evening news with mounting dread and anxiety as President Johnson ordered 15,000 reservists into action in response to the seizure of the U.S.S. Pueblo by North Korea. The U.S.S. Enterprise was already in the Sea of Japan ready to initiate a retaliatory strike. It looked like the Cuban Missile Crisis all over again. Lorelei turned to me and worried that things couldn't possibly get any worse.
Then the North Vietnamese launched an all-out assault on seven provincial capitals in South Vietnam. Fighting reached the streets of Saigon, and the America embassy itself was overrun for six hours. The conflict is still raging. So much for the Tet holiday week of peace. So much for armistice overtures.
So, 1968 is already shaping up to be a scary year in the mundane world. Let's see how we're doing in the SFNal realm. The latest issue of Analog starts off strong, from its Kelly Freas cover, to Harrison's name on the masthead. But does it deliver on its promises?
Too little
by Kelly Freas
The Horse Barbarians (Part 1 of 3), by Harry Harrison
Don't let the title or the cover throw you–this latest serial is, in fact, the third installment in Harrison's Deathworld series. In the brilliant first story, we are introduced to Jason dinAlt, a psychically adept gambler and roustabout who comes to Pyrrus, the most hostile planet in the galaxy. Using his ESP talents, as well as his fine brain, he deduces that the reason the world is so antagonistic to humans is due to a kind of psychic positive feedback loop: as the colonists came to regard the planet as their enemy, the planet's flora and fauna responded in kind. The key to living at peace with the world is a change in mindset, to work with the planet rather than try to conquer it. It was a lovely ecological message, predating Silent Spring by two years.
The second dinAlt story, The Ethical Engineer is a Deathworld story only in name, with dinAlt captured and taken to another world in Chapter One. This novel, more than any other, caused me to confuse Harry Harrison for Keith Laumer (as dinAlt and Retief are rather similar in nature and tone) everafter.
This third piece is a little more closely bound to the original. The premise: all of the city-dwellers of Pyrrus who could make peace with the planet have already left the original settlement for the countryside. What's left is the hard-core who cannot change their mindset. Eventually, the planet must defeat them.
Jason has a proposal that may appeal to this remainder. The planet Felicity has resisted all attempts at establishment of a mining colony. Specifically, the northern half of the planet's sole continent is peopled by savage horse barbarians who steadfastedly resist any attempt at civilization. dinAlt suggests that the Pyrrans form a planetary exploration and pacification company; after all, who in the galaxy could be tougher than a Pyrran? About 400 city-dwellers agree to the plan.
Upon landing on Felicity, Jason is immediately konked on the head and made a captive of Temuchin, leader of the dominant barbarian tribe. This chief has slowly gained the vassalage of all of the other tribes, cementing his control over the windswept northern steppes. dinAlt manages to escape, making a trek across the barren wastes. But the trip back to his ship, the Pugnacious, is only the beginning of his worries. In order to topple Temujin, Jason and his fellow Pyrrans will have to playact at being a new barbarian tribe, and subvert the chieftain from within…
The tone flipflops between light and deadly serious, and the horse barbarians are a thinly disguised retread of the Mongols (look in your encyclopedia for the birth name of Genghis Khan), though made redheads for some reason. That said, I read the whole thing in two quick sittings, and I'm enjoying it more than Engineer so far.
Four stars for this installment.
To Make a "Star Trek" by G. Harry Stine
You know our favorite TV SF show has made the big time when Analog makes it the topic of the nonfiction science article! Stine, a model rocket enthusiast, offers up a fascinating bit of background on the program, including praises of its implementation of technology, and some behind-the-scenes information that must have come straight from show-runner Roddenberry (indeed, this schematic of the Enterprise has been reprinted in current Trekzines.
Four stars, and a must read for Kirk/Spock buffs.
"If the Sabot Fits … " by Leigh Richmond and Walt Richmond
by Kelly Freas
The psychic man-and-wife author team returns with this mildly diverting piece. A series of catastrophic computer failures in a Midwest town coincides with a particular broadcast at a public education station. Could there be a connection?
I'm not sure if the science is sound, but it might be–Walt is an electrical engineer (Leigh, reportedly, just types his mental emanations, but I suspect she is actually the storytelling talent of the pair).
A freelance helicopter pilot spots a flying saucer out in the southwest desert. The aliens, who have already made contact with a local population, do their best to avoid widening their diplomatic contacts.
I appreciate the idea of alien relations with individual nations/groups as opposed to with planets as a whole. Science fiction writers tend to forget that planets are big places, and they can house more than one embassy/colony/climate.
But.
The story is twice as long as it needs to be, and Poul really doesn't do "light and funny" competently, certainly not in the same league as Laumer, Harrison, or Sheckley.
Two stars.
Dowsers Detect Enemy's Tunnels, by Hanson W. Baldwin
"American soldiers find tunnels in Vietnam, a country riddled with underground passageways. ONLY DOWSERS CAN BE THE REASON!"
Seriously, John? One star.
The God Pedlars, by Jack Wodhams
by Kelly Freas
The ugh continues. An interstellar corporation is selling computers to primitive tribesmen. The pitch: they are actually idols representing a great and wise god. These "gods" tell the indigenes how to live their lives, build technology, etc. Of course, it's all for the good of the natives.
In addition to being a rather specious premise, this isn't really a story. It's a mouthpiece and a straw man having a conversation such that the point is beaten into the reader with a mallet.
Editor Campbell would give this story five stars. I give it one.
Optimum Pass, by W. Macfarlane
by Leo Summers
Last up, a sequel to Free Vacation, in which Layard and his fat partner (he never gets a name, but his girth is an important aspect of his character) manage to get themselves thrown in the pokey again such that they can get another free trip to an alien world. Their official mission is to tough out 30 days to determine the suitability of the planet for colonization. Their personal mission to look for evidence of "The Prodromals", the original galactic civilization.
More light fun, albeit a bit less coherent than the last tale. Still, three stars.
Unbalanced scale
Despite the auspicious beginning, this month's issue of Analog finished at 2.7 stars, making it the least of the February 1968 magazines. Even Amazing scored slightly higher (still 2.7 when rounded), followed by IF (2.8), Fantasy & Science Fiction (3.1), New Worlds (3.3), and Galaxy (a slightly higher 3.3)
It was actually a good month for good fiction: out of six magazines released, one could fill two, possibly three with exceptional (four and five star) stuff. Women, on the other hand, continue to be underrepresented, with just 7% of published new fiction.
So, while Analog was a mixed blessing this month, all in all, the pages of the digests made for much more pleasant reading than the newspapers. Would that we could have good news in both. I guess we'll see how February fares. It is my birthday month; surely that counts for something!
The year is 2018, disasters are running rampant, and there’s a dictatorial Doctor doppelganger at the centre of it all. The first half of this serial was excellent, but does the second half follow through? Let’s have a look at the last few episodes of The Enemy Of The World.
EPISODE FOUR
After the failed attempt to rescue Denes, Astrid flees back to Australia, where she meets back up with Kent and the Doctor. Fariah soon arrives unexpectedly, and offers her assistance to their cause. Her loathing of him, which was barely concealed in the first half of the serial, is now on full display. Whatever Salamander did to her, it must have been pretty awful.
In order to rescue his friends (who Fariah says will have been brought to Salamander’s base) the Doctor finally agrees to Kent’s plan to impersonate Salamander. However, there’s a catch. If the Doctor wants Kent’s help rescuing his companions, he’ll have to do more than just impersonate Salamander—he’ll have to kill him. The Doctor is vehemently opposed, of course. Kent, on the other hand, might be a little too eager. However, they don’t get to argue the ethics of the business for long.
Salamander’s deputy, Benik (Milton Johns), has been watching their movements, and is about to launch a raid. He doesn’t plan on taking prisoners. Benik very quickly establishes himself as a deeply unpleasant little man who enjoys his modicum of power far too much, using it to indulge some rather sadistic impulses.
Not everyone makes a clean getaway from Benik's troops. A soldier shoots Fariah as she tries to escape, and Benik, nasty little creep that he is, tries interrogating her as she lies dying. To her credit, Fariah goes out with real style. She refuses to tell him anything, and gets a fantastic line of dialogue:
“I can only die once… and someone’s beaten you to it.”
To punctuate her point she uses the last of her strength to slap him. Oh, why did they have to kill her off so soon? She was cool, clever, and was starting to take control of her own story—are we only allowed one female character with those traits per serial?
It’s a crying shame, but an excellent death scene.
At Salamander’s base, a smug Benik reports back to the man himself. A little unnecessary bloodshed doesn't bother Salamander, but it makes security chief Bruce uneasy.
Later on, it's revealed that the base's records room conceals the entrance to a hidden underground complex. What's Salamander hiding? About two dozen people who haven't seen the sun in five years. Salamander's been really smart about the whole deal. Not only are the captives kept secret from the outside world, they don't even realise they're captives! They believe the surface of the Earth to have been devastated by an ongoing nuclear war. Salamander goes to the surface to scavenge supplies, even though the radiation is (supposedly) slowly killing him. How brave of him.
They’re not just waiting out the storm, though. They’re trying to bring it to an end. How? By engineering natural disasters to bring down the aggressors.
Now that’s what I call an underground resistance.
I apologise.
In all seriousness, the captives are blissfully unaware that they’re killing innocent people, and are just grateful to be alive. Well, most of them. One of the youngest of the group, Colin (Adam Verney) is…how do I put this nicely? Whiny. Every time he pops up he’s just banging on about wanting to go to the surface like a little brat who wants to go to Disneyland.
To be fair, he has been down here since he was a teenager. So has his friend Mary (who exists mostly to give Colin someone to moan and complain to. I suppose two cool female side characters was the limit!), but she doesn't whinge nearly as much.
Back at the surface, the Doctor has regrouped with the surviving conspirators at Kent’s cabin, and he is ready for his close-up. With a generous heaping of bronzer and a bit of a comb, he’s the spitting image of Salamander, but first he’ll have to deal with an unexpected visitor…
I’m not keen on the whole brownface-and-stereotypical-accent aspect of Salamander, even though I do like him as a villain. It’s bordering on caricature, serving as a distraction from Troughton’s otherwise very good performance.
EPISODE FIVE
The unexpected guest turns out to be Bruce, who has noticed their arrival at the cabin (wow, Kent and company are terrible at espionage), and would like to hear them out. He also brings them the news of Fariah’s demise. Though initially reluctant to trust one another (to put it mildly), the Doctor manages to calm everyone down and win Bruce over. He agrees to let Bruce accompany him on his infiltration mission, leaving Kent and Astrid behind.
Down in the secret bunker, the captives are unloading food. One of them, Swann (Christopher Burgess) finds something troubling stuck to one of the boxes. It’s a scrap of newspaper, something about a holiday liner sinking. But why would there be holiday liners in the middle of a nuclear war? Realising something is amiss, Swann immediately confronts Salamander in his private quarters.
Caught in the lie, Salamander has no choice but to dig himself deeper. He ‘admits’ that the war is over, but the people left behind on the surface are evil mutants ravaged by radiation. It’s still too dangerous. As for the disasters, Salamander tells Swann that they’ve been targeting the mutated surface-dwellers. They’re unfit to live, it’s a mercy if anything. It’s a familiar fascist talking point, and Swann doesn’t buy it.
There’s actually a couple of cases in this serial of minor characters questioning authority. Earlier, when Benik was giving orders to shoot to kill, the leader of the soldiers was uneasy—but ultimately passed down the order, and it got Fariah killed. Here, Swann pushes back against Salamander’s genocidal rhetoric. He insists on seeing the surface for himself. Who knows how many lives that might have saved?
Starting to panic a little, Salamander tells Swann to inform the others that they’re taking a trip to the surface. Of course, Colin whines that he doesn’t get to go.
On the upper floors of the base, Jamie and Victoria awake to find themselves in unfamiliar surroundings and in unwelcome company. The slimeball Benik has come to interrogate them, and he is going to enjoy himself. I cannot overstate the sheer creepiness of Benik. Salamander might be a supervillain, but Benik is the one who makes my skin crawl.
It’s lucky for them that the Doctor and Bruce arrive to dismiss Benik. Of course, they don’t know that, and start screaming at him for killing Denes and kidnapping them. When ‘Salamander’ informs them that their ally Fariah is dead, Victoria snaps. The Doctor finally breaks character to dive under the table and pathetically (and quite hilariously) wail at her not to hit him.
Meanwhile, Benik has a strop at the guards for not letting him know that Salamander was on his way. This comes as news to the guards, who haven’t seen him leave the records room. Uh oh.
Outside, Astrid and Kent start to get a bit impatient. Rather than wait for the Doctor and Bruce to come back, Kent plays dead, then Astrid runs off, leading the guard away—and leaving Kent unattended. Wait,they only had to deal with one guard? Astrid could have taken him in a fight any day.
Still, the trick is pretty clever, faking Kent’s assassination by sniper with a broken window and some ketchup.
As Astrid leads the guard on a merry chase, however, she comes upon something unexpected. It’s Swann, abandoned and bleeding. Salamander left him for dead.
EPISODE SIX
Back at the base, the Doctor keeps up his ruse, which leads to him discovering that the base’s provisions are far more than enough for the number of people stationed here. There must be other people hidden on the base.
Not as many as there were yesterday, sadly. Swann only lives long enough to learn from Astrid that there was never any war, and to tell her to rescue the other captives. His death scene isn’t as good as Fariah’s. No swan-song for Swann.
Following his guidance, Astrid finds her way into the tunnels and discovers the secret bunker for herself. The inhabitants are just as surprised to see her as she is to see them, and a little hostile. After all, they’re frightened. Colin calms them down (pretty much the only useful thing he does), and Astrid proves that Salamander has been lying about the surface radiation. The machine he was using to measure the radiation is a fraud. Furious, the captives start clamouring to come to the surface. They’d like a few words with their 'saviour'.
As Salamander, the Doctor gives orders for Jamie and Victoria to be released and escorted to the perimeter of the base. Things are likely to get more dangerous, and he’d rather they were out of harm’s way.
As for Kent, he successfully makes it into the base and sneaks into the records room, where he confronts his enemy at long last. Rather than just getting on with it and shooting Salamander where he stands, Kent milks the moment. Locked outside the room, Benik and Bruce can only watch the situation unfold via a security camera.
Even at gunpoint, Salamander continues to taunt Kent. He tells him he’ll never get out alive, but Kent reveals a little secret: he knows about the tunnels under the base. And furthermore, he knows about the cache of explosives stored down there, so he can stop anyone following him.
It’s then that the Doctor drops his ruse, thanking him for this new information. The dumbfounded Kent then finds himself face to face with Astrid, and she’s not at all happy to see him him. Kent didn’t just know about the tunnel and the secret lab—he helped set it up. Like the pied piper, he led all those people down there in the first place. At some point, Kent and Salamander had a spat, and went their separate ways. Kent’s enmity with Salamander isn’t based on moral principle, it’s professional rivalry. He's not saving the world from Salamander, he's trying to take his place.
Well, he was, but now all he can do is flee into the labyrinthine tunnel network.
With the secret beneath the base revealed, Benik tries to make a run for it. Bruce promptly places him under arrest. Well, he certainly deserves it, but it’s not as cathartic a comeuppance as I would have liked.
As Kent flees through the tunnels, he encounters Salamander again, but this time it’s the real McCoy. In an attempt to save his own skin, he proposes to Salamander that they team back up again. However, Salamander only keeps assets that are useful to him, and Kent certainly isn’t. Salamander shoots him, but Kent gets his own back. Before dying, he manages to set off the explosives, rocking the base and collapsing the tunnel on both of them… Or so it appears.
At the TARDIS, Jamie is very relieved to see a familiar face show up, but little does he know that it doesn’t belong to the Doctor. It’s a very battered and quite badly hurt Salamander. The Doctor’s done such a good job impersonating him, why not have a go himself? However, it seems he can’t pull off the accent, so he wisely keeps his mouth shut. However, Jamie soon realises that something is amiss, and the real Doctor turns up in the nick of time to set things straight.
Finally coming face to face with his double, Salamander attacks the Doctor. It’s a pretty well done effect, though it’s only brief so we don’t get time to properly scrutinise it. In the fight, Salamander activates the dematerialisation switch—but the TARDIS doors are still wide open!
The Doctor, Jamie and Victoria hang on for dear life as the TARDIS lurches onto its side, but Salamander isn’t so lucky. Losing his grip, Salamander is flung out of the TARDIS, plummeting through time and space…perhaps forever.
Final Thoughts
What a treat this serial turned out to be! The plot was fun, well-paced, and a welcome change from the usual alien monsters. There’s nothing wrong with a bug-eyed alien but it makes a nice change to have a good strong human villain.
It’s a strong cast of characters all around, actually, from the love-to-hate Salamander to the strong and capable Astrid. And they’re played very well, dodgy accents aside. For the most part. Colin’s a bit overwrought, but he’s not a big part of the story so it’s not really a problem for me.
I like my television to be progressive, and this serial is in a bit of a weird limbo in that regard. On the one hand, Fariah’s a smart, determined black woman who isn’t reduced to a stereotype (unlike Toberman in Tomb Of The Cybermen) and gets a bit of independence, though it doesn’t last long. Still, an improvement. And you’ve got Astrid, who is awesome. On the other hand, there’s Salamander and his exaggerated accent. Oh, and Mary, who has about as much personality as a bunch of wet tissue paper. So there’s still room for improvement, but it’s encouraging!
I will say that the ending feels a bit rushed, which is a chronic problem in Doctor Who. I would have at least liked to see Astrid retrieving the captives. Still, the confrontation between Salamander and the Doctor at the very end? Excellent. I don’t know how well the effects would have held up if the scene had lasted longer (shooting body doubles from behind only works up to a certain point), but they were very good for the brief time they were shown.
On the whole, I think this might be my new favourite serial. I hope the next is just as good!
After a month or so, I’m back. It may be a little late, but a Happy 1968 to you.
Here in England the trials and tribulations of New Worlds magazine continue. If you remember, reduced subscriptions led to editor Mike Moorcock making the decision to go bi-monthly whilst finances were being sorted. Fellow traveller Kris also mentioned this last month.
Well, I’m pleased to say that things seem to be sorted, at least for now – which is why I was pleased to see this issue appear. I did have my worries that it might not. It is just labelled as “February 1968”, which means that we might be back to monthly publication again – but who knows?
Cover by Eduardo Paolozzi, designed by Charles Platt and Christopher Finch
Lead in by "The Publishers"
Photos of the key writers this month. New feature.
We seem to have moved from the idea of an editorial or an article to a section that describes the contents of the current magazine through quotes and commentary in more detail. I get the point – it’s clearly designed to get casual readers to delve further, and I must admit that it was interesting – I learned something! I just don’t see why these details couldn’t be at the top of each story or article. 4 out of 5.
And he’s back! Quick recap – readers may remember that Jack Barron is the media celebrity whose talk-show is widely watched across America. In the last part he took on the political world with an attack on his TV show on the Freezer Utility Bill, a law which will allow Benedict Howards and his corporation The Foundation for Human Mortality a monopoly on cryogenics in the future.
This part of the story deals with what happened after the show. Barron goes and picks up a woman for sex. Taking her back to his penthouse, they make love, but Barron spends time thinking of his ex, Sara Westerfeld.
Barron is then visited by Howards in his office. Howards is angry that Barron has appeared on television to oppose his Bill. Nevertheless, Howards offers in return for Barron’s support a free Freeze contract and therefore near-immortality. Barron refuses to take the offer, and is so annoyed that he sets up an angry tirade against Howards to be on his next show. Howards arranges a meeting with Barron’s ex-wife Sara Westerfeld to try and find a weakness in Barron’s armour. Westerfeld agrees to a contract with Howards in order to get Jack back and also bring down Howards.
So: lots of political wrangling given as long lecture-like rants, with angry cut-up phrases as prose. None of the characters come out of this particularly well, generally giving the impression that politics in America is filled with vicious characters who make their way through life by being nasty, lying and scheming. Mr. Spinrad seems to be a very angry young writer.
And as entertaining as this is, I can’t help feeling that there is little actually of any importance here. When you take away all the fripperies and the prose-stylings, there’s not a great deal of plot. I’m starting to see what others have claimed to be style over substance. 4 out of 5.
First page of the article. More cut-up stylings!
Article: Barbarella and the Anxious Frenchman by Michael Moorcock and Charles Platt
Another article written by Moorcock but filled with more of that cut-up art so beloved of current artists (and in this case by Charles Platt.) It is most definitely opinionated, a rant against the decline in standards in French SF. Why French SF? Well, (the yet-unreleased) Barbarella movie of course, which also gives a chance for Messrs Moorcock and Platt to decry that things in French SF are not as good as they used to be. Things are far too safe, too diluted, too… normal. As rants go, it’s quite fun. It’ll be interesting to see if the article gets a response or not (And where is our late, lamented Letters page?) 4 out of 5.
The Serpent of Kundalini by Brian W. Aldiss and C. C. Shackleton
After last issue’s positively odd installment, we continue with the Colin Charteris story. After seeing much of Brussels burn last month, god-like deity Colin Charteris returns to England. The story is mainly about the strange visions Charteris experiences on his return, as England has been affected by the drug bombs unleashed across Europe, though only slightly.
Whilst the descriptions are imaginative, the extract just feels like what I imagine is one long psychedelic trip and does nothing to change my view that this is still style over substance. Not quite as bad as last issue’s effort, but still relentlessly self-conscious. 3 out of 5.
The Square Root of Brain by Fritz Leiber
Photo illustration. Does it help explain the story? Perhaps…perhaps not.
Now here’s a name I’ve not seen around for a while, in British magazines anyway. I know that Moorcock’s a fan of Leiber’s work, so I can’t imagine much persuading was required to take up this story.
Rather clever and thoroughly scandalous, The Square Root of Brain satirizes pop culture and the insanity of modern life, juxtaposing the slight plot with dictionary quotations (!)
I did wonder if this was another example of American writers trying to “write New Wave”. It is not entirely successful – what is its point? – and yet shows that despite not being seen around much lately, Fritz has not lost any of his satirical bite. There were several places where the story just made me grin. I could see this one in a new collection of Dangerous Visions stories. 4 out of 5.
Article: Under the Sea with Hubert Humphrey by Hubert Humphrey
I must admit that at first glance I thought this title was a parody – you know, an attempt to be a riff on something like something like The Undersea World of Jacques Cousteau or Walt Disney’s Wonderful World of Color… but cynical old me, it wasn’t.
Instead, we get a political statement from the vice-president of the US dressed up as an article showing us the potential of oceanography and the need for international cooperation in future. Political angle aside, it is actually quite interesting, and shows that the seas have future potential. But it does feel a little at odds with the anti-establishment sentiment of much of the rest of the magazine. The gulf between this and Jack Barron could not be more apparent. 3 out of 5.
A Single Rose by John De Cles
Artist: James Cawthorn
Here's another name I’ve not seen here for a while, since Sanitarium in July 1966. I liked this allegorical one (unusually for me!), a story of a man whose attempts to create perfection involve an artificially created Unicorn, and a survey to determine what makes the perfect rose, only to find in the end that it is the idea of transience that makes things special. Quite well done, if a little introspective. 3 out of 5.
In Seclusion by Harvey Jacobs
Weird art for a weird story.
A story of two film stars who fall in love on-set and seeing a publicity campaign in the making are sent by their studio to a secluded abbey with no modern conveniences. The two enjoy the novelty at first but in the end they are attacked by a creature from the ocean. Lots of sexual talk and allegory, with what I assume is meant to be sparkling repartee, but in the end just feels grubby. Another example perhaps of the magazine trying to shock and show that it is more adult in nature than before. If you are engaged by talk of phalluses, seminal fluid and pubic hair you may like this one. Personally, I can’t see Elizabeth Taylor and Richard Burton doing this sort of thing. 2 out of 5.
Article: Book Review – Atrocities of the Love Slaves of Equanimity by John Sladek
This month’s Book Review seem to be another example of a writer more enamoured with their own writing than actually reviewing a book. There’s a review in there, to be honest, but it has to be deciphered from the writer’s love of his own voice. Sladek reviews Come Back, Dr. Caligari by Donald Barthelme (No, never heard of that one, either.) Despite all of the lyrical posturings, Sladek seems to quite like the book of fourteen stories, clever short stories “rich with references to Freud, high culture, pop culture, (and) existentialism.” All of which seem to fit nicely with the new New Worlds vision, even if I’m unlikely to ever think about this book again.
Summing up New Worlds
An issue that on balance I liked more than I disliked – I liked the Leiber, and thought the Moorcock & Platt article was an interesting touch – though there were elements that seemed a little overwrought. Nevertheless, it was good to have the magazine back, for all of its wayward meanderings.
I got a letter from Ted White the other day. Seems he's no longer assistant editor over at F&SF, which is a shame. Apparently, he was once under consideration for editor at Fantastic (and possibly Amazing) back when Celle Goldsmith (Lalli) left! Boy, would that have been an interesting tenure–certainly more interesting than what we got under Sol Cohen.
Anyway, keep reading, because this isn't the only time Ted's name will come up.
by Ronald Walotsky
The Colonies
Stranger in the House, by Kate Wilhelm
We've been seeing a lot more of Kate Wilhelm, lately, which is generally a good thing. Stranger seems as if it will be a fairly typical, if sinister, haunted house story. A middle-aged couple moves into a house in the country, a surprisingly good deal, to escape the hustle and bustle of the city after the husband suffers a heart attack. Immediately, the wife begins to suffer fainting spells and strange visions. A little research uncovers that, since 1920, the place has seen an inordinate number of deaths and inexplicable illnesses amongst its ocuppants.
Is it a vengeful spook? Radon poisoning? Actually, as we quickly learn, it's an alien in the basement. Not just any alien: this one was sent on a first contact expedition. The hope of its race was that they would get to see that transient moment when a species first makes the jump into space.
The problem is, said aliens are hideous, live in a toxic atmosphere, shed acid, and communicate via a telepathy that is about as conducive to human communication as an icepick in the forehead. How, then, can there be a meeting of the minds?
I love a good "first contact" story, and I appreciate that Wilhelm has created a truly alien being. What keeps this piece from excellence are a couple of factors. For one, it is overlong for what it does. More importantly, much of the story, particularly that told from the alien's point of view, is detached and told in past tense. This lack of immediacy in a story that deals with turbulent emotions puts a muffling gauze over the proceedings. I wonder, in fact, if the whole story might have been improved by only including the human viewpoint.
Three stars.
The Lucky People, by Albert E. Cowdrey
Why stay hitched to three channels on the boob tube when you can watch the cannabalistic mutants that prey on your neighbors from the comfort of your own picture window?
Notable for being the first mention of Star Trek I've seen in print science fiction, it is a cute but frivolous tale.
Three stars.
The Stars Know, by Mose Mallette
A young ad exec, graduate of Dr. Ferthumlunger's 40-week handwriting analysis course, is convinced that his boss, the comely Lorna D., is in love with him. How else to explain "the sex-latent capitals, the rounded n's and m's, the generous o's and a's, and the unmistakably yearning ascenders in late."
Never mind that the note which our hero has examined is an angry exhortation to get his work done on time.
The misunderstanding continues, with Lorna actually becoming infatuated with the exec, but said exec steadfastedly refuses to believe it, analysis of subsequent notes revealing (so he believes) that she isn't interested at all. Of course, he doesn't actually read the contents of the notes. He only looks at the handwriting.
What seems a silly story at first is actually, upon further analysis, an indictment of those who miss the forest for the trees: the mystics, numerologists, saucer enthusiasts, and what have you, who ignore the evidence and invent their own patterns to reinforce their beliefs. It's really quite brilliant satire!
Or…perhaps I'm reading too much meaning into the thing.
Three stars.
by Gahan Wilson
Aperture in the Sky, by Theodore L. Thomas
Thomas' essays are usually not worth the single page they are written on. This time, however, he's hit on a good'n: artificial satellites designed to occult radio sources for better measurement of their distance. It sounds rather brilliant to me.
Four stars.
From a Terran Travel Folder, by Walter H. Kerr
Less successful is this one page program, I think advising aliens on the joy of eating people. I read it a few times and did not find myself enjoying it.
Two stars.
He Kilt It with a Stick, by William F. Nolan
Then we hit the nadir of the issue. The author of Logan's Run offers up a tale of a man who hates cats and does horrible things to them until they get their inevitable, macabre revenge.
Not only is this story cliché in the extreme, but if I never read another account of cruelty to cats, it'll be too soon.
One star. For shame.
Wednesday, Noon, by Ted White
Quality returns with this short piece by Ted White. When the rapture comes, the music may not be heavenly in origin, but it'll be compelling, all the same. This story took a whopping three and a half years to be printed from the date of submission (latter 1964), but I'm glad it finally made it. White has a real knack for living in his characters, conveying their sensory experience and internal monologues with visceral effectiveness. Wilhelm's piece could have used his touch, I think.
It helps that White lives in New York, the setting of the story, and lived through that brutal summer when Martha Reeves' classic first hit the airwaves…
Four stars.
The Locator, by Robert Lory
Gerald Bufus, accountant, is meticulous to the extreme. He also has a hobby: tracking the visitations of flying saucers to ensure he can one day be present at a landing. Sadly, his overwhelming addiction to symmetry compells him to greet the alien ship at the exact center of their predicted arrival site.
The three human crewmembers of the first interstellar flight go mad in hyperspace, and presently, none are left alive aboard the vessel except the one robot steward, who mechanically goes through the motions of serving the dead humans.
The twist at the end is ambiguous: has the robot also gone insane? Or is he actually a fourth crewmember, who has retreated behind a fictional metal shell in his own kind of insanity?
Four stars.
To Hell with the Odds, by Robert L. Fish
I love "deal with the Devil" stories, and this one, about a washed-up golfer who bargains to win this year's Open, is great all the way up to the end…where it flubs the finish. The problem I have is the clumsy phrasing of his final wish (an attempt to get out of the deal, which of course backfires,) given that he had 18 holes to perfect it.
Three stars.
The Predicted Metal, by Isaac Asimov
The Good Doctor continues his series on the discovery of metals, this time recounting the creation of the Periodic Table. It's a fine piece, but I feel as if it was recycled from his 1962 book, The Search for the Elements.
Four stars.
The Veiled Feminists of Atlantis, by Booth Tarkington
The last is a 40-year old piece. Two scholars meet to discuss a legend of Atlantis in which the women not only win equality, but then fight a cataclysmic war with Atlantean men for the right to retain the distinction of their femininity–the veil.
Tarkington wrote the piece to poke a bit of fun at the war between the sexes that was waging in the 20s, whereby women had the temerity not only to demand the vote, but also to engage in male or female fashion and hobbies as they chose, and men were affronted by their cheek.
Interesting as an artifact, I suppose. Three stars.
Summing up
All in all, a decent but not outstanding magazine this month. And now onto something in an entirely different vein…
by Fiona Moore
At the outset of The Magical Mystery Tour, which premiered in black and white on Boxing Day but which was released in colour on 5 January this year, we are promised the “trip of a lifetime,” and, later on, we are assured that everyone is “having a lovely time.” Whether or not this includes the viewer is more open to question.
The Mystery Bus attempting to flee its critics.
The movie has the loose framing premise of Ringo Starr taking his Auntie Jessie on a Mystery Bus tour, in the company of the other Beatles, a few swinging hip types, an assortment of British pensioners who seem a little nonplussed by the proceedings, and The Courier, a Number Two figure who leads the tour assisted by Miss Winters and Alf the Driver. What follows is a series of short musical interludes featuring a selection of numbers from the eponymous album, interspersed with sketches that are a cargo-cult cross between At Last The 1948 Show and The Prisoner, which seem to miss the point of either.
There’s a sketch with a sergeant-major drilling the tour participants; a sort of school games’ day and car race around an airfield or test track (featuring Angelo Muscat, the Butler in The The Prisoner); a whirlwind romance between Auntie Jessie and a character named Buster Bloodvessel; a tent in a middle of a field that turns out to be bigger on the inside than on the outside. But no real sense of what all this is supposed to be saying to the audience.
Yes, but why?
The highlights of the film are definitely the musical interludes. “Flying”, when seen in colour, is actually rather beautiful (which is rather lost in the black and white version). There are also short films for “Blue Jay Way,” featuring George Harrison playing on a chalk-drawing piano, and “Fool on the Hill”, with Paul McCartney standing on, well, a hill. Everything really comes together, though, in “I Am the Walrus”, with the surreal costumes of the performers echoing the imagery of the song, and the Beatles all seem to be enjoying themselves. This is far from true of the other sketches, in which John and, in particular, George seem more than a little surly.
Everyone having a lovely time, apparently.
The film hit its nadir, for me, with a rather disgusting dream sequence of Auntie Jessie being served mountains of sloppy spaghetti by John Lennon in a restaurant, while the bus crew sit around half-naked drinking milk. Similarly peculiar was the decision to have a sequence where the Bonzo Dog Doo-Dah Band perform their song “Death Cab for Cutie” in a strip club complete with stripper, watched by George and John. And the movie more or less ends right there, with that sequence going straight into a 1950s Hollywood-musical-style production of “Your Mother Should Know.”
I’d say this is definitely one for Beatles completists more than anything else.
Two out of Five stars.
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As people who read my review of last year’s Orbit will recall, I loved Joanna Russ’ new fantasy hero Alyx the Adventuress. These stories combined a modern sensibility, great characterization and the kind of fun you would get from Howard or Leiber.
Needless to say then, I was extremely excited to learn we would be getting a new novel of Alyx’s adventures so soon afterwards. Trying to go into the book with as little foreknowledge as possible, I found it was definitely not the story I was expecting.
When we last left Alyx she was escaping Orudh and planning her next move. In the opening paragraph of Picnic on Paradise we are reintroduced to her:
“I’m sorry, ma’am, but I cannot believe you are a proper Trans-Temporal agent; I think-” and he finished the thought on the floor his head under one of his ankles… “I am the Agent, and My name is Alyx.
To understand what a sharp diversion this is, imagine picking up Robert E. Howard’s Conan the Conqueror and finding it opens in 1917 with Conan at the Battle of the Somme. A fascinating choice but also one that requires a lot of readjustment of expectations as well as explanations.
Eventually what we piece together is that while she was escaping by sea after robbing the Prince of Tyre, she was somehow brought to the future and has come to work for the transtemporal agency. Although she has learnt some elements and language of this future millennia and these weird new worlds, she is still largely a stranger.
What is continued from the previous installments is Alyx’s impatience for impractical people. Here it is the tourists she must shepherd across Paradise. They are all different representatives of this future, showing different facets of the time, but for Alyx they are all fools in one way or another, coddled by society and unable to survive without it.
In some ways this could be seen as a version of Montaigne’s Des Cannibales but it significantly improves upon it. Whilst the original uses cultural relativism as a means to critique contemporary society, Russ sets up two opposing societies as alien to us as each other: the ancient Mediterranean of Alyx and the highly complex future of the tourists, and compares them to make more complex points as well as building fascinating worlds.
It should not be thought as an old-fashioned kind of text at all, as it does not pull any punches. Instead, we have explorations of drugs, sex, religion, complex psychology, violence, humanity and much more. It is like all of society attempting to be distilled into one perilous journey.
I know it is only January but if this isn’t to be my favourite novel of 1968, something really special will have to come along in the next 11 months.
A very high Five Stars
by Victoria Silverwolf
Short and Not So Sweet
I recently came across a trio of new works of speculative fiction that don't require a lot of time to read. In fact, I was able to finish all three books in one day. Each features a fair amount of disturbing material, even though one is a comedy, one is intended for younger readers, and one is a action-packed thriller. Let's take a look at these brief, dark-tinged novels.
I use the word new loosely for this satiric Russian novella from an author who died in 1940. It was actually written in 1925, but has never been officially published in the Soviet Union. (I understand that copies of it have been circulated in the underground form known as samizdat.) Michael Glenny's translation is its first appearance in English, I believe.
Cover design by Applebaum & Curtis, Inc., according to the back cover, but the artist remains anonymous.
In classic horror movie fashion, a Mad Scientist adopts a homeless pooch for the bizarre purpose of transplanting a dead man's testicles and pineal gland into the animal's body. (The detailed descriptions of surgery are the gruesome parts of the book. Dog lovers beware.)
The mutt changes into a man, of a particularly vulgar sort. The canine fellow claims to be a loyal Communist, turning against the aristocratic scientist and siding with the bureaucrats who want the doctor to give up several rooms in his apartment.
It's obvious that the author is attacking the Bolshevik revolution in his portrait of the dog-man and the other collectivists. He also satirizes quack medicine of the time.
The narrative alternates from first person, in the dog's point of view, to third person, sometimes in a single paragraph. Some readers may find these sudden transitions jarring, although otherwise the book is quite readable. (Kudos to the translator.)
Despite the blood-soaked scenes of surgery and the savage satire of Communism, much of the novel is pure slapstick. There's an extended sequence in which the newly created man chases a cat, leading to the flooding of the apartment. Overall, the book is both amusing and thought-provoking.
Next we have an unusual fantasy for young people. I think this is the author's first book.
My sources suggest that this art is by John Holder.
We jump right into a scene of nail-biting suspense. A sixteen year old boy and his kid sister are trapped on a small rock in the sea off the coast of England. Folks with spears are ready to kill them if they make it back to shore. The tide is rising, ready to drown them.
The boy got hit on the head by one of the mob and has amnesia. This gives the girl a good excuse to tell her brother (and the reader) what's been going on for the last five years.
A mysterious something made the inhabitants of Britain hate machines. They've gone back to a medieval way of life. The boy was caught messing around with a motorboat, and his sister was seen drawing pictures of machines. The fanatical locals are ready to execute them for witchcraft. (Apparently the anti-technology effect has worn off on them.)
The boy is a weathermonger; that is, he can control the weather with his mind. (Every village in England has one, it seems. I suppose it's a side effect of the machine-hating phenomenon.)
He uses this power to create a fog. The siblings escape, make their way to the forbidden motorboat, and reach France. (The anti-technology effect is limited to Britain.)
That's just the start of their adventures. The French authorities, seeing that they are immune to the phenomenon, send them back to track down its source. Thus begins a wild odyssey to Wales, making use of a snazzy 1909 Rolls Royce Silver Ghost stolen from a museum. (I get the feeling the author is in love with that classic car.)
It's an exciting book, with one heck of a climax. The explanation for what's going on strains credibility, even for fantasy. The story is too intense for very young readers, I think, but it should be fine for teenagers. Adults who don't mind reading so-called juveniles should enjoy it as well.
The cover makes it clear that this is the start of a series. The name of the series, and the illustration, suggest that we're in for the kind of SFnal sword and sorcery yarn you might find in an old copy of Planet Stories. That's pretty accurate, but there's a bit more to it.
Cover art by Jeff Jones, who also provides a couple of interior illustrations.
The author doesn't waste any time. In just a couple of pages, a starship is destroyed by a weapon launched from the planet it's orbiting. A scout ship carrying two guys crashes on the planet. A few pages later, one of them is dead.
Let's catch our breath and see where we are. See the tiny black dot in the middle of the left side of the map? That's where the scout ship landed. The sole remaining hero won't get very far from that spot by the time the book ends. He just travels a bit to the northwest, not even reaching the coast. There are a few references to other places on the map, but the vast majority of the rest of the planet is going to have to wait for other volumes in the series.
The map art is not credited, but might be by Jeff Jones as well.
If you think the geography is complicated, wait until you hear about the population. There are humans of many different cultures present, for reasons explained later. There are at least four species of aliens, broken up into subgroups. The aliens who give the book its title, for example, are divided into the Old Chasch, the Blue Chasch, and the Green Chasch.
Complicating matters is the fact that some humans are (pick one) servants/slaves/worshippers/devotees/imitators of the various aliens. One such person is the book's most amusing character.
With all this going on, we still have a nonstop action-packed plot, as our hero sets out on a seemingly hopeless quest to get back to Earth. Along the way, he meets the traditional beautiful princess, whom he has to rescue from captivity no less than three times.
(At this point, I had to wonder if the author was poking subtle fun at the kind of work produced by Edgar Rice Burroughs and Robert E. Howard.)
The story is full of violence and, frankly, kind of puerile. What distinguishes it from a typical thud-and-blunder yarn is the extraordinarily intricate setting. The author is a master of creating exotic cultures, and that's a lot more interesting than the endless killing and corny plot.
If the male characters are two-dimensional, the females are one-dimensional. The princess exists only to be stunningly beautiful, get kidnapped, and fall in love with the hero. There's a cult of priestesses who hate men and loathe attractive women. There are no other female characters of any importance, just servants and the like.
Taking a break from her various long-running series, Andre Norton, one of the most prolific science fiction novelists, has produced a new one-off. It's a simple, dare I say, old-fashioned tale wherein ex-GI Ray Osborne gets inadvertently whipped into the distant past when he stumbles across an experimental time travel beam. Emerging into the primeval forests of "The Barren Lands" that will one day be North America, he is quickly captured by a party of Atlanteans (as in from the lost continent of Atlantis) and turned into a galley slave. Fortunately, he is able to make his escape, with the help of a fellow prisoner named Cho. The two, now sword-brothers, secure passage on a warship commissioned by Atlantis' rival, the Pacific continent-nation of Mu. On said ship, Ray and Cho make their way to the land of the Sun, where Ray is elevated to the aristocratic rank of Sun-born and welcomed.
But Ray is in for more than he bargained, as he is imbued with a subconscious geas to infiltrate the perfidious former colony of Atlantis and stop their nefarious plan to bring in other-worldly demons, their doomsday weapon in a cold war about to turn hot…
Operation: Time Search is all very Burroughsian in its setup and execution, up to and including the pseudo-scientific, modern era bookends (that do not add much to the book save padding). It's essentially riproaring action from beginning to end, and Norton delivers it competently. There are also agreeable relationships between the sword-brethren Ray and Cho, as well as, later in the book, Ray and a buccaneer captain named Taut.
This is a peculiarly shallow book, however. The Murians are portrayed as universally good and just (even when they commit actions that are not so nice, as in making Ray an unwitting weapon). The Atlanteans are foul in every respect. This could be fine–after all, when has Conan been subtle? But the writing is peculiarly sparse, almost oblique, when describing the many visceral horrors and foes of this bloody world, almost as if Norton were censoring herself (or perhaps she was censored after the fact). An encounter between Roy and "The Loving One", a gruesome Lovecraftian menace, in particular suffers for this.
Plus, I was sad that the potentially interesting Lady Ayna, captain of a Murian warship, essentially disappears shortly after her introduction. The saintly Lady Aiee, Cho's mother, is not nearly so compelling; in any wise, she is gone halfway through the book, too. Really, there just isn't a lot to become attached to in this book: Ray isn't a good enough character, and the setting is too one dimensional.
All in all, it felt like Norton was just going through the motions on this one. Three stars.
Until now, the protests and unrest have been confined to the bigger cities, particularly West Berlin. My hometown of Bremen did have its share of protests, but those were mostly just a few dozen people standing around on the market square, holding up placards. Though protests are getting bigger even here. On the day before Christmas, there was a protest against the war in Vietnam of several thousand overwhelmingly young people outside the US general consulate.
Right now, however, Bremen is seeing the biggest protests since the Bremen Soviet Republic fifty years ago. And for once, those protests are not against the war in Vietnam or the West German emergency laws or a visit of the Shah of Persia or former Nazis in positions of power, but about something far more mundane, namely an increase in bus and tram fares from 60 to 70 Pfennig for single tickets and 33 to 40 Pfennig for group tickets popular with students and apprentices. On the surface, this increase seems modest. However, for students, apprentices and young people in general who neither have cars nor a lot of money and rely on public transport to get around the city, even a small fare increase is a big problem.
The tram protests started small on January 15 with approximately fifty students of several Bremen high schools protesting the fare increase on the Domsheide square, one of the main tram traffic hubs in the city center. When the protest was ignored, the students decided to stage a sit-in on the tram tracks. The police removed the students, whereupon the protest continued outside Bremen central station – another major traffic hub – where other young people joined in.
Protesting youngsters on the Domsheide squarePolice officers face teenaged protesters on DomsheideProtesting students stage a spontaneous sit-in on the tram tracks.
In the following days, the protests continued to grow. On January 16, there were roughly 1500 young people staging a sit-in on the tram tracks, holding placards with slogans like "70 Pfennig – Lieber renn' ich" (70 Pfennig – I'd rather walk). The initial protesters had been high school students, but by now they were joined by students of the technical and pedagogical colleges and apprentices of various local companies. The protest managed to bring tram traffic in Bremen's city center to a complete halt with a backlog of trams stretching all across town.
Student leaders speak to the protestersStudent leader Christoph Köhler addresses the protesters.Young protesters hold up a banner saying "70 Pfennig – I'd rather walk"More placards. One protester announces that he will henceforth go by bike, while another declares "Avoid the tram – 70 Pfennig is crazy".
And the protest was still growing. The next day, there were 5000 young people protesting and blocking the tram tracks to the point that the public transport company BSAG suspended all tram traffic across the entire city.
Police officers stationed on the Domsheide square.
Bremen's chief of police Erich von Bock und Polach, who was a Colonel in the Waffen-SS before he reinvented himself as a member of the Social Democratic Party, proved that he had learned nothing whatsoever from the tragic events in West Berlin last June and ordered the Bremen police to attack the protesting students with truncheons, batons and water cannons. Hereby, the police not only managed to beat up several innocent bystanders, but the resulting unrest also caused damage to twenty-one tram cars and fourteen busses.
Sadly, we have seen pictures like these all too often. Police officers beat up a protester.A police water cannon attempts to blast protesters on Bremen's market square, but only manages to hit the stall of the Bürgerpark tombola and the Roland statue.A police water cannon blasts protesting students in front of the St. Petri cathedral, whose rector supported the protesters. Note the trams in the background.Two young protesters face off against water cannons and are clearly loving every minute of it.The police arrest a very dangerous protester who appears to be fourteen or fifteen at most.Police officers drag off a protester and chase a very dangerous kid on a bicycle.The editor of this student newspaper thought that marking his car as "press" would protect him from police violence, but the police officers dragged him out of the car anyway.This protesters holds up a placard asking the police not to beat up protesters, but negotiate, sadly without success.Protesters hold up placards decrying police violence.
Chaos on the streets of Bremen
And still the protests grew. The workers of the AG Weser shipyard and the Klöckner steelwork, the two biggest companies in Bremen, employing thousands of people, many of whom rely on public transport, declared their solidarity with the protesting students and apprentices. By January 18, twenty thousand people were protesting in the city center.
By January 18, the protest had grown to twenty thousand people and the protesters are no longer just teenagers.A representative of the metal workers' union speaks to the protesters.
The city was in utter chaos by now and the Bremen senate held an emergency meeting. Thankfully, cooler heads than the noxious chief of police von Bock und Polach prevailed and so Bremen's new mayor Hans Koschnik, who has only been in office since November, met with representatives of the protesters in the townhall, while the protests were still going on outside and threatened to boil over into violence again.
Bremen's new mayor Hans Koschnik has only been in office since November and really deserves better.The police has cordoned off the area around the townhall to allow members of the city parliament to attend the emergency meeting.
An unlikely heroine emerged in 54-year-old Annemarie Mevissen, deputy mayor and senator for youth, sports and education. Mrs. Mevissen left the relative safety of the townhall and went out to talk to the protesters directly. On the Domsheide, where the protests had begun four days earlier, Mrs. Mevissen climbed onto a crate of road de-icing salt, grabbed a megaphone and spoke to the protesters, explaining why the fare increases were sadly necessary, but also expressing sympathy for the protesters. Annemarie Mevissen's speech as well as the meeting with Mayor Koschnik did the trick and the protests gradually ceased. As of today, trams and busses are mostly running again.
Senator for Youth, Sports and Education and deputy mayor Annemarie Mevissen speaks to the protesters to express sympathy and call for calm.Annemaire Mevissen is a remarkable woman. Since she also is Senator of Sports, she is showing off her ball kicking skills while meeting with young football players.
By chance, I was shopping in the city center on the second day of the protests. I could still get into the city by tram, but by the time I wanted to go home I had to walk several kilometres to where I had parked my car. However, I still found the time to stop at my favourite import bookstore to peruse their spinner rack of English language paperbacks.
The Return of the Dynamic Duo: The Swords of Lankhmar by Fritz Leiber
Fritz Leiber's delightful pair of rogues, Fafhrd and the Gray Mouser, have had a troubled publication history. They debuted in the pages of Unknown, Astounding/Analog's fantasy-focussed sister magazine, almost thirty years ago. After Unknown's demise in 1943, Fafhrd and Gray Mouser were left adrift, until they finally found a new home in Fantastic under the editorship of Cele Goldsmith Lalli. However, with the sale of the Ziff-Davis magazines to Sol Cohen, the appearances of Fafhrd and Gray Mouser in the pages of Fantastic became scarce. It seemed the dynamic duo was homeless once again, unless they shacked up with Cele Goldsmith Lalli over at Modern Bride magazine, that is.
So imagine my joy when I spotted the brand-new Fafhrd and Gray Mouser adventure The Swords of Lankhmar in the spinner rack of my trusty import bookstore. Nor was this adventure short fiction, like the duos' previous outings, but a full length novel. So of course I had to pick it up, even if I had to carry it five kilometres through the city, dodging protesters and aggressive police officers.
The story
Fafhrd and Gray Mouser return to Lankhmar, only to find themselves first attacked and then hired by Lankhmar's overlord Glipkerio Kistomerces to escort a fleet of grain ships to a neighbouring city. The fleet's cargo is a gift to Movarl of the Eight Cities in exchange for some help with a pesky pirate plague. Also aboard the grain ships – and another gift to Movarl – are the Demoiselle Hisvet, daughter of Lankhmar's wealthiest grain merchant, her maid Frix and Hisvet's twelve trained white rats. The ship's captain isn't happy about the presence of the rats, because rats and grain don't mix. Meanwhile, both Fafhrd and Mouser are fascinated by the Hisvet and her maid.
It does not take long for trouble to find Fafhrd and Mouser, who soon find themselves fighting off monsters, pirates and rat attacks. The two rogues also have their hands full with Hisvet and Frix. Luckily, they get some help from Karl Treuherz, a German-speaking time-travelling hunter capturing monsters for Hagenbeck's Zeitgarten. Karl Treuherz (his last name means "true heart") is a delightful character, particularly if you're German and can understand not only his dialogue in flawless German (kudos to Mr. Leiber), but also understand that Hagenbeck's Zeitgarten is a riff on Hagenbecks Tierpark, the famous Hamburg zoo, which apparently will open a time- and dimension-travelling dependency in the future. Cover artist J. Jones clearly likes Karl Treuherz, too, and put him on the cover.
The distinctive main entrance of Hagenbecks Tierpark in Hamburg. So far, they don't yet display alien monsters, but it's only a matter of time.
Something smells of rat here
If the story feels a little familiar, that's probably because it is. For the first half of The Swords of Lankhmar appeared under the title "Scylla's Daughter" in the May 1961 issue of Fantastic. That novella ended on a cliffhanger with the treacherous Hisvet and Frix escaping aboard one of the ships, leaving Fafhrd and Mouser marooned.
Fantastic's cover artist clearly liked Karl Treuherz as well.
The novel follows the two ladies as well as Fafhrd and Mouser back to Lankhmar, where even more intrigues await. For sinking a fleet of grain ships was just the start for Hisvet and her twelve trained rats. It turns out that Hisvet and her father are members of a race of intelligent rats, who live in Lankhmar Below and want to take over the entire city. Mouser shrinks himself down to rat size to spy on them, only for the mad overlord Glipkerio to ignore his warnings in favour of building a contraption that may or may not send him to a parallel universe. The way of defeating the rat invasion is as obvious as it is ingenious by using the rats' hereditary enemy against them.
The Lankhmar Below scenes were my favourite parts, probably because as a kid, I envisioned thumb-sized beings, both humans and animals, who inhabit a parallel city in the sewers, basements and walls of our world. In order to cross between the two worlds you needed a magical shrinking potion. Reading Leiber's descriptions of Lankhmar Below felt as if he had reached into my mind to bring my own fantasy world to the page. Or maybe there really is a parallel world of intelligent rodents and both Fritz Leiber and I somehow stumbled upon them in early childhood.
My imaginary parallel world of little people and animals sprang from the collection of small figures kept in this cookie tin featuring a picture of the Cologne Cathedral, hence I called them "church box people".
An ode to interracial and interspecies romance
Because this is a Fafhrd and Gray Mouser story, there also are plenty of romantic entanglements. Mouser falls for Hisvet and finds himself wondering if she's human or rat underneath her floor-length gown and if it even matters to him. Fafhrd prefers Frix, but Hisvet likes Frix, too. Furthermore, Mouser is fascinated by Reetha, a maid at the overlord's palace who is completely hairless, while Fafhrd starts a relationship with Kreeshkra, a ghoul with transparent skin and flesh who is basically a walking skeleton.
Over the past few years, the amount of sex in science fiction and fantasy has been creeping upwards, as the sexual revolution makes it possible to write about previously taboo subjects. This is not necessarily a good thing, since some writers feel the need to foist sexual fantasies that had better remained private upon the unsuspecting reader – see Piers Anthony's Chthon or John Norman's Gor books. Thankfully, Leiber does not go this route, even though there is quite a bit of sexual content, including sexual content of the more unusual sort, in The Swords of Lankhmar. However, nothing here is even remotely as prurient as Chthon or the Gor books. Instead, Leiber's message – even spelled out at one point – is that love is love, no matter the gender, race or species of the participants. And indeed, none of the women Fafhrd and Mouser become involved with in this story are in any way standard love interests. Frix is a black woman, Reetha's hairlessness does not match any classic beauty standards, Hisvet may or may not be part rat and Kreeshkra is essentially a walking skeleton. Furthermore, there are several not so subtle hints that Hisvet and Frix are in a romantic relationship as well.
All in all, The Swords of Lankhmar is a thoroughly enjoyable fantasy adventure and a welcome return to the world of Nehwon and its most famous rogues. However, the plot meanders a bit, particularly in the second half. The genre that Robert E. Howard pioneered in the pages of Weird Tales almost forty years ago and that Fritz Leiber named sword and sorcery works best in the short form. Almost all of Howard's tales about Conan the Cimmerian or Kull of Atlantis, C.L. Moore's adventures of the medieval swordswoman Jirel of Joiry, which I hope will be reprinted eventually, as well as Michael Moorcock's stories about Elric of Melniboné and all previous Fafhrd and Gray Mouser stories have been novellas and novelettes. A genre that focusses on action and adventures thrives best in the short form and tends to meander at novel length, a problem that's also apparent in Robert E. Howard's sole Conan novel, The Hour of the Dragon, recently reprinted as Conan the Conqueror.
It’s hard to contain the joy that this episode brings to my heart. I’m a sucker for gangster films, like “Ocean's Eleven” and “Bonnie and Clyde”, but I have to admit, I’m always wary when a film does time travel. Period pieces tend to get things wrong one way or another, but “A Piece of the Action” somehow gets it all wrong in exactly the right way. This episode is chock full of amusing interactions that will engage you if for no other reason than it being delightfully fun.
Earth-like alien planets with humanoid populations have awkwardly made their way into Star Trek (e.g. "Miri", "A Taste of Armageddon"). This time, we finally get a plausible explanation for one. In this week's episode, the Enterprise is ordered to report to Sigma Iotia II. The spaceship Horizon went missing about 100 years earlier and is suspected to have contaminated the culture of the planet. Kirk, Spock, and McCoy beam down to the planet’s surface to meet with a Mr. Oxmyx to see what they can do about the contamination.
Let the contamination begin!
They are greeted by armed men wielding Tommy guns in an old-fashioned city suspiciously similar to America in the 1920s. Our landing party is escorted to see Oxmyx and discover that the Horizon crew left an old Earth book called “Chicago Mobs of the Twenties” on the planet. It was mentioned that the Iotians are imitative, which would account for their desire, given a blueprint, to emulate our past. It explains the culture and style, but it's clear the mimicry is skin-deep, which makes sense if they only have one book to go on. For example, during their negotiations, Oxmyx haphazardly shoots billiard balls around the table, and in the next scene when the henchmen are playing poker, it’s not any version that I’ve ever seen. It’s convincing until it’s not, but it’s convincing because it’s not.
"Don't tell me how to play Old Maid!"
Kirk interrupts their game to show them fizzbin (a fictitious game in which Kirk improvises the rules). It’s so absurd that he contradicts himself while explaining the rules of the game. Do you want a third Jack or not? Only Kirk knows. While the henchmen are distracted, Spock and McCoy clobber their captors and successfully escape to the radio station. Kirk decides to split off to find Oxmyx and is captured by Krako’s men. Typical.
Krako, Boss of the south side territory, is seen awkwardly throwing darts over his shoulder before Kirk enters, escorted by Krako’s men. He attempts to negotiate a deal with Kirk that would make Krako top Boss. Kirk isn't necessarily opposed; his aims aren't actually that different from that of the Iotians: Each Boss wants to take enough territory to become top Boss and Kirk thinks a unified government is a good idea, too. The difference is method–Kirk wants negotiation to determine the top Boss, not war. The deal falls through, of course. Krako doesn’t seem like the type to negotiate, stating that, “the book tells us how to handle things.”
A wild series of events ultimately gives Koik the perfect excuse to play a hunch. If you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em. Koik and Spahck don the local garb and comically make their way back over to Krako’s place. The deal is that the Fed is takin’ over and he’s offered a piece of the pie, but little does he know, Koik’s got other plans. They put the bag on all the mob bosses while Krako’s on ice, ya see. Koik shows a small display of power and negotiates a deal to have Oxmyx be the head of the Syndicate with Krako as his lieutenant. The Federation gets a 40% cut.
What happens when you mess with the Federation.
This episode gives us a lighthearted look at the mob and a unique perspective on how an alien species might mimic a culture. Without minor details to guide them, it’s understandable that they wouldn’t know the rules to 9-ball, poker, or darts. Shatner’s Shatnerisms played well in this setting, and it was fantastic to see Spock have every logical reason to not object to Kirk playing a hunch. Not only that, but he gets to deliver the best line in the episode (adapted to title this article). The supporting cast was wonderful, and I’ve got no beef with this episode.
Five stars.
Against the Odds
by Lorelei Marcus
I will be the first to admit that, despite all it accomplishes, Star Trek has some major recurring flaws. Any show, particularly one that presents a world technologically beyond anything we can understand today, requires a modicum of suspension of disbelief. Such suspension becomes tested as increasingly outlandish claims are thrown around by the characters (particularly our beloved Captain Kirk) and such theories become the basis of the solution for an entire episode. Think Kirk divining the original purpose of the Doomsday Machine, or Jack the Ripper's ghost haunting across space-time (seriously THAT'S the most logical explanation for a series of interplanetary murders?) Sometimes the setup itself can destroy one's immersion, like "Miri" beginning with a planet completely identical to Earth. Or maybe it's a contradiction of preestablished rules in the universe that breaks an episode; Kirk seems to conveniently forget about the Federation's noninterference clause in "The Apple" and "Return of the Archons".
"A Piece of the Action" does everything I've mentioned above, but it does it right. I had my doubts when I first saw the preview for this episode. The Tommy guns and pinstripe suits made me expect another time travel jaunt like "City on the Edge of Forever". Instead, the explanation for the 20s gangster background is quite reasonable and SFnal: a hundred years ago the Federation tampered with a preindustrial planet, and the society of that planet has been modeled around the information the Federation left for them, including a textbook on gangs in the twentieth century. How concise and satisfying an explanation! And it also provides reason for why the Federation later implemented the noninterference clause – to avoid situations like this.
Imagine what they might have found if the Horizon had left the Bible…
This is the cue for Kirk, in his cowboy Kirk fashion, to decide that the structure of the society is not up to his personal moral standards and therefore he has the right to change it. Except this time it makes sense. As Kirk explains the episode, the anarchist state of this planet is the Federation's fault, and in this special case the noninterference clause has limited application because they have to fix the damage they've caused.
Even then, they try to minimize contact between the natives and Starfleet's advanced technology to allow the society to progress and mature on its own course. This has the added bonus of leading to some rather amusing fistfights.
Finally, while the solution of the episode does rest on Kirk's hunch, this too is set up in advance. Kirk both consults the ship's computer and Spock to suss out a logical course of action to save the planet. Only when both sources fail to give him answers does he decide to act on instinct instead. And when he finally carries out his plan, it actually makes sense! He manages to unite all of the gangs into a central government by posing as a larger, more threatening authority. All it takes is Shatner's progressively more dramatic Chicago accent.
I couldn't give this episode higher praise. It elegantly evades the pitfalls of Star Trek while also telling an engaging, funny, and science fiction story.
Five stars.
Embracing the Absurd: A Motto
by Andrea Castaneda
Truth be told, I had a difficult time formulating my thoughts for this episode. At first, I wanted to discuss the themes of authoritarianism. Then I was tempted to look at the governmental structures of a “lawless” society. But the more I thought back on the episode, the more I realized I was overthinking it. “A Piece of the Action” had me laughing with delight rather than putting me in deep thought. And perhaps that was the intention: a lighthearted way to play “cops and robbers” through the world of Star Trek. But even if one can peel back the layers, one can glean a simple lesson: when you find yourself standing in absurdity, embrace it.
First and foremost, I have to commend the writers for playing to Shatner’s strengths. From the comically over the top accent to donning a pinstripe suit, you could tell Shatner was having a gas the entire time. If I were a betting woman, I would wager good money that he was bouncing up and down in his chair as he read the script. Spock, meanwhile, did an excellent job at playing the “straight man” to Kirk’s ostentatiousness. His rigid and awkward attempts at playing a mobster not only highlighted how ridiculous the situation was, but also gave us some great deadpan deliveries.
As for the story itself, well, we’ve established how absurd the premise is. In fact the show explicitly states that there are no logical solutions out of this, shown when Spock goes through his various computer simulations. So, what can the crew of the Enterprise do? The only “logical” thing: outdo the absurdity. And that’s where the episode shines.
"What's the computer suggest, Spock?" "I've…got…zilch."
A mobster henchman foreshadows the concept at the start of the episode, telling Kirk, Spock, and McCoy “that innocent act don’t work on me.” And as predicted, their attempts at peaceful diplomacy only get them into more trouble. But their luck starts to turn when Kirk realizes the mobsters, in all their bluster and moxie, are pretty easy to manipulate. Playing to their sense of stubborn pride, he makes up a card game and flatters them enough to get them to drop their guard. When dealing with the bosses, he learns to come down to their level, framing concepts like taxes into terms they understand. Finally by the end of the episode, Kirk has smooth talked his way into becoming the head honcho of this cartoonish cabal of bosses and wise guys. It’s ludicrous, but still plausible enough to work.
This episode could have very easily become inane, puerile, and flat out stupid. But the self awareness from the writers and actors alike, combined with Shatner’s enthusiasm, gave it a charm that had us laughing along with them the entire way.
If I were one for clichés, I could say that embracing absurdity is a lesson we all can benefit from from time to time. But being realistic, I would say the writers wanted a palate cleanser for what appears to be a much heavier episode next week. We’ll see. In the meantime, I’ll be rummaging through my closet to see if I have anything pinstripe.
Four stars.
Pinch-hitting
by Gideon Marcus
Last week, I noted that the usual show runners had gone AWOL, to the detriment of the episode's quality. This week, I was made trepidatious by the unknown names "David P. Harmon" (writer) and "James Komack" (director). Moreover, the previews had led me to believe that this was going to be another silly time travel episode.
In fact, what we got was not only a thoroughly entertaining second-contact story, but one of the best made episodes of Star Trek we've seen in a while.
The editing and cinematography is some of the crispest and original we've seen to date. There's nary a flat moment, thanks to the quick cutting and innovative camera wrangling. Even the music, which I think was entirely from the library, fit the episode to a "T" – from the lilting strains lifted from "The Trouble with Tribbles" to the bombshell introduction tune from "Mudd's Women".
The director did an excellent job of reining in Mr. Shatner this time around. While many of his favorite tics were on display, they did service in differentiating "Koik the Boss" from "Kirk the Captain." And while Shatner often shone, he did not steal the scene.
Part of that was the snappy writing that put truly funny and effective lines in the mouths of Bones, Spock, and Scotty. Part was the performances Komack elicited from his stars. Even Uhura, though she gets very few lines, is memorable; the smile she gets when she realizes what Kirk has planned for Jojo Krako is just delightful.
Speaking of which, how about those guest stars? Anthony Caruso (Bela Oxymyx) is an old hand, of course, and Vic Tayback, who is everywhere these days, and who does a creditable impression of George C. Scott in The Yellow Rolls Royce, is fantastic as Krako.
George C. Tayback
Finally, the sartorial touch of giving each gang's henchmen different headgear (fedoras for Oxmyx, straw hats for Krako's, bowlers for Tepo's) was brilliant.
Five stars!
This week, the Enterprise will be fighting the paramecium of doom!
Join us tomorrow at 5:00 PM Pacific (8:00 Eastern) or at 8:00 PM Pacific (11:00 Eastern)!
A few weeks ago, President Johnson signed into effect the Public Broadcasting Act. Its purpose, among other things, is to turn a decentralized constellation of educational stations and program producers into a government-funded network. It's basically socialism vs. the vast wasteland.
Given the quality of programming I've seen produced by National Education Television, particularly on independent station KQED-San Francisco (e.g. "Jazz Casual" and "The Rejected"), I am all for this move. Indeed, I've recently come across a show that has really sold me on public television.
NET Journal is a series on political matters of the day. In December, they had a program that showed the results of a week-long workshop in which 12 affluent young men and women of a multitude of ethnicities lived together and discussed their prejudices. What they determined was surprising to them, and maybe to us. As we saw in the film Guess Who's Coming to Dinner, even in the most bleeding heart liberal, there is prejudice; and it's not just directed from whites to minorities.
This week, we caught an interview with four journalists in Saigon. Recently, LBJ and General Westmoreland have been cheerleading the effort in Vietnam, saying that the three-year commitment of half a million troops is bearing fruit. The South Vietnam-based journalists dispute this rosy view. They say progress has been slow, that the South Vietnamese army is hopelessly corrupt and must be reformed from the head down if it is to operate effectively without American support, and that we are not engaged in "nation-building" because there is currently no nation. The elections are meaningless so long as there be no real choices to be made, so long as bribes and payoffs accomplish more than the rule of law.
Withering stuff. Next week, the program will be on draft-dodgers.
On the small page
Galaxy Science Fiction is also an exellent, long-running source of information and entertainment. This month's issue is a particularly good example.
Anderson has established a reputation for producing some of the "hardest" SF around, laden with astrophysical tidbits. On the other hand, his quality varies from sublime to threadbare. Luckily, his latest novella lies far closer to the former end of the scale.
Tragedy takes place in what appears to be the far future of his Polysotechnic League history. The loose interstellar confederation of planets became an empire and subsequently went into decline a la the worlds in H. Beam Piper's Space Viking universe and Asimov's Foundation setting. I really like these "after the fall" stories of folks trying to patch a polity back together, maybe better than it was before.
by Gray Morrow
This particular story is the tale of Roan Tom, Dagny, and Yasmin, the crew of the merchant-pirate Firedrake. Their ship is in desperate need of repairs, and the only planet within range of the married trio is a Mars-sized world around a swollen orange sun. Luckily, said world was once a human colony of the Empire and thus may have the resources needed to fix a starship.
Unluckily, the planet has been recently plundered by pirates, and the inhabitants do not take kindly to strangers–especially ones that call themselves "friends."
There's a lot to like about this riproaring tale of aerial maneuvers, overland evasion, and fast-talking diplomacy. For one, two of the main characters are women, and highly competent ones at that. Moreover, it is an ensemble cast, with each of the three coming into the spotlight for extended periods of time.
There is also a mystery of sorts, here…or several, really, all woven together: how does this undersized planet have an atmosphere? Indications are that this is a young world, but why, then, does the dense planet have so little surface metal? And why is the star so unstable, prone to devastating solar storms that play hell with the planet's weather? Solving this astronomical puzzle proves key to addressing the Firedrake crew's more immediate problems.
Of course, you have to like detailed explanations of stellar and planetary parameters and phenomena. I personally love this sort of thing, but others may find their eyes glazing. On the other hand, there's plenty to enjoy even if you decide to let the science wash over you. The sanguine antics of Roan Tom, the determined toughness of Dagny, the more refined and tentative brilliance of Yasmin. These are great characters, and I'd like to see more of them.
Four stars.
The Planet Slummers, by Terry Carr and Alexei Panshin
A pair of young thrift store bargain hunters are, in turn, scooped up by a pair of alien specimen collectors. I think the story is supposed to be ironic, or symbolic, or something.
Ah, but then we have the story of a different couple: a superannuated trillionaire and a dewy (but flinty) eyed young starlet. There's is a love fated for the ages, but not the way you might think.
Just a terrific tale told the way only Leiber (or maybe Cordwainer Smith) could tell it.
Five stars.
Street of Dreams, Feet of Clay, by Robert Sheckley
by Vaughn Bodé
Imagine moving to the city of the future: clean, architecturally pleasing, smog-free, crammed with creature comforts. Now imagine the city is run by a computer brain…with the personality of a Jewish mother.
Bob Sheckley is Jewish, so I suspect he didn't have to strain his imagination much for this one. Droll, but a little too painful and one-note to be great.
Three stars.
For Your Information: Epitaph for a Lonely Olm, by Willy Ley
This is a pretty dandy story about a sightless cave salamander that lives its whole life in the water, thus eschewing the amphibian portion of its nature. Thanks to this creature, we have the concept of "neoteny"–the retention of juvenile traits for evolutionary advantage. The blind, pale beast also ensured the fame of Marie von Chauvin, a 19th Century zoologist.
Four stars.
Sales of a Deathman, by Robert Bloch
by Jack Gaughan
How do we combat the exploding birth rate? By making suicide sexy, thus exploding the death rate!
Bloch's modest proposal would be better suited to a three line comedy routine than a several-page vignette. Three stars.
Total Environment, by Brian W. Aldiss
by Jack Gaughan
Crammed into a ten-story self-contained habitat, 75,000 persons of Indian descent live a life of increasing desperation and squalor. At first, we are given to believe that the settlement is a natural response to the crushing pressure of overpopulation. As it turns out, the Ultra-High Density Research Establishment (UHDRE) is actually a deliberate experiment in inducing psychic abilities through exposure to unique pressures. Just 25 years ago, the site had a population of only 1500. Now, teeming to bursting, the hoped-for psionic adepts are appearing–and an empire in a teapot is arising on UHDRE's Top Deck to take advantage of them.
Aldiss writes a compelling story. One thinks it's just the second coming of Harrison's Make Room! Make Room! until it isn't. In some ways, this actually hurts the story, causing it to lose focus. On the other hand, the setting is so well-drawn, and the situation suspenseful enough, that it still engages and entertains.
Four stars.
How They Gave It Back, by R. A. Lafferty
by Gray Morrow
The last mayor of Manhattan finds The Big Apple isn't worth the bother, now that it's degenerated into a ruined, gangland state run by a quintet of bandits. Thankfully, the original owners will buy it back–for its original fee.
Again, this might have made a humorous short bit. As is, you see the punchline from the first words (the title and illo help), and the slog isn't worth the ending.
Last up, a frothy adventure featuring a TV star recruited to infilitrate the last cannibal island in the South Pacific to thwart a nefarious Soviet scheme. This is yet another in the recent spate of stories involving total sensory television in which hundreds of millions viscerally experience the lives of actors.
Unlike Kate Wilhelm's or George Collyn's spin on the subject, Laumer doesn't do very much with the gimmick. Instead, it's another of his midly amusing but eminently forgettable yarns.
Two stars.
Summing up
Despite a sprinkling of clunkers, the latest Galaxy delivers the goods. Two good novellas, a fine nonfiction piece, and an excellent Lieber short would have filled F&SF nicely. So just pretend that the other stories don't exist and enjoy the good stuff.
And then tune in to NET Journal the next few weeks while you wait for the next issue!
![[February 6, 1968] The Most Dangerous Dame (<i>Confessions of a Psycho Cat</i>) and From the Land of Hype (Ellison's <i>From the Land of fear</i>)](https://i0.wp.com/galacticjourney.org/wordpress/wp-content/uploads/2023/02/680206covers.jpg?resize=672%2C372&ssl=1)
![[February 4, 1968] More of the Same (March 1968 <i>IF</i>)](https://i0.wp.com/galacticjourney.org/wordpress/wp-content/uploads/2023/01/IF-1968-03-Cover.jpg?resize=434%2C372&ssl=1)
Dr. Barnard (I.) and Philip Blaiberg (r.), probably before the surgery.
Dr. Shumway at a press conference last fall (l.), Mike Kasperak and his wife, Ferne (r.)
This unpleasing collage is for Harlan’s new story. Art by Wenzel
Part of the scouting party investigating the crystal entities. Art by Virgil Finlay
Jared consults the Machine. Art by Gaughan
Y discovers the culprits behind the hijackings. Art by Vaughn Bodé
Just some vague atmosphere. Art by Gaughan
Matt leaves a message. Art by Adkins
A new Silverberg novel. That could be interesting. It might even be innovative.![[Feb. 2, 1968] All creatures great and small (<i>Star Trek</i>: "The Immunity Syndrome")](https://i0.wp.com/galacticjourney.org/wordpress/wp-content/uploads/2023/01/680202title.jpg?resize=672%2C372&ssl=1)
![[January 31, 1968] Too much and too little (February 1968 <i>Analog</i>)](https://i0.wp.com/galacticjourney.org/wordpress/wp-content/uploads/2023/01/680131cover.jpg?resize=651%2C372&ssl=1)
![[January 28th, 1968] Double Trouble (<i>Doctor Who</i>: The Enemy Of The World [Part Two])](https://i0.wp.com/galacticjourney.org/wordpress/wp-content/uploads/2023/01/680128facetoface.jpg?resize=672%2C372&ssl=1)
![[January 26, 1968] Jack Barron Returns!<i>New Worlds</i>, February 1968](https://i0.wp.com/galacticjourney.org/wordpress/wp-content/uploads/2023/01/New-Worlds-Feb-68.jpg?resize=672%2C372&ssl=1)
Cover by Eduardo Paolozzi, designed by Charles Platt and Christopher Finch
Photos of the key writers this month. New feature.
More sex from Jack Barron. Artist uncredited.
First page of the article. More cut-up stylings!
Weird art for a weird story.
![[January 22, 1968] The Magical Mystery Tour (February 1968 <i>Fantasy and Science Fiction</i>…plus the Beatles movie!)](https://i0.wp.com/galacticjourney.org/wordpress/wp-content/uploads/2023/01/680122both.jpg?resize=672%2C372&ssl=1)
The Mystery Bus attempting to flee its critics.
Yes, but why?
Everyone having a lovely time, apparently.![[January 20, 1968] Alyx and Company (January 1968 Galactoscope)](https://i0.wp.com/galacticjourney.org/wordpress/wp-content/uploads/2023/01/680120covers.jpg?resize=672%2C372&ssl=1)
![[January 18, 1968] I Would Advise Yas ta Keep Watching (<i>Star Trek</i>: "A Piece of the Action")](https://i0.wp.com/galacticjourney.org/wordpress/wp-content/uploads/2023/01/680118title.jpg?resize=672%2C372&ssl=1)
![[January 16, 1968] Worthy programming (February 1968 <i>Galaxy</i>)](https://i0.wp.com/galacticjourney.org/wordpress/wp-content/uploads/2023/01/680110cover.jpg?resize=672%2C372&ssl=1)
