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[April 30, 1965] Back-door uprising(May 1965 Analog)

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by Gideon Marcus

Pirates of the Caribbean

The Dominican Republic, half of the island of Hispaniola in the Caribbean, has never been a beacon of democracy.  The Trujillo dictatorship lasted three long decades, ending only in 1961 after his assassination.  The nation's first democratic elections, in 1963, brought Juan Emilio Bosch Gaviño to the Presidency.  In the same year, a military junta removed him from power, elevating Donald Reid Cabral to the position.

Reid was never popular, and on April 24, military constitutionalists and Dominican Revolutionary Party supporters launched a coup, José Rafael Molina Ureña taking the top post.  He lasted all of two days.  A counter coup restored the Reid government to power, although Reid, himself, had fled the country.

Meanwhile, the American military worked to evacuate some 3,500 U.S. citizens living in the country.  Just this morning, elements of the 82nd Airborne Division landed at San Isidro Air Base, on the outskirts of Santo Domingo.  Their mission is to enforce a ceasefire and guide the country back to democracy.

Thus, our nation is now involved in stabilizing missions on both sides of the globe.  Will this action mark a long term involvement?  Or, in the absence of a Communist menace (Haiti is not North Vietnam!) and with the aid of other O.A.S. nations, will this be a quick exercise to hasten Caribbean democracy?

Only time will tell.

Insurgency in the Old Country

At the very least, we can be certain that the Dominican involvement has no chance of developing into a nuclear confrontation (unlike Vietnam, where Sec. Def. MacNamara did not rule out that possibility).  So it's a conventional affair for now.

Appropriately, we now turn to the most conventional of science fiction magazines, the oft-hidebound Analog.  Like the Dominican Republic, it has been under a single strongman for several decades.  And yet, like that island nation, we occasionally see signs of progress.  Indeed, this latest issue has some refreshing entries, indeed.


by John Schoenherr

Trouble Tide, by James H. Schmitz

On the world of Nandy-Cline, herds of sea cows are abruptly and mysteriously disappearing from the costs of the Girard colonies.  Danrich Parrol, head of the Nandy-Cline branch of Girard Pharmaceuticals, teams up with Dr. Nile Etland, head of Girard's station laboratory, to find the cause of the vanishing food animals.  They suspect foul play from a rival company, Agenes.  The poisoning of a herd of mammalian but native fraya seems somehow connected, too.  The two embark on a forensic adventure that takes them across a thousand miles of coast and under miles of ocean.


by John Schoenherr

There are many features that make Tide stand out.  What a delightful story this is, with an interesting pair of protagonists and a cute scientific solution.  I appreciated the depiction of a planet as a big place, big enough to support many economies, colonies, and criminal activities.  I also particularly liked the appearance of female characters.  Indeed, Dr. Nile Etland is an equal partner in the investigation and is not a romantic foil — simply a competent scientist.

Why is this remarkable?  I had become so inured to the lack of female characters in my science fiction that I'd almost started to challenge my convictions.  Was it really fair of me to judge fiction (at least in part) by whether or not it included female characters?  Isn't modern SF just a reflection of the male-dominant society we live in?  Can we blame authors for writing "what they know?"

Yes, yes, and yes.  The erasure of women in any kind of fiction, particularly one that projects present trends into the future, is inexcusable.  Any portrayal of a world where women play minor roles or none at all isn't just unrealistic, it propagates a kind of ugly wish fulfillment.  That's why, when I get a story like Tide with realistic and positive representation of women (and, indeed, Schmitz has always been good in this regard) it's such a breath of fresh air.  Ditto the British import show, Danger Man, which regularly features competent professional women who are integral to the episodes.

It's what I want to see.  It's what I should be seeing.  That I'm seeing it in Analog of all places gives me hope.

Four stars.

Planetfall, by John Brunner


by Alan Moyler

A young Earth woman eagerly greets a young astronaut man, an ecologist on the crew of a starfaring colony with 2,500 residents that is making a brief stop.  She's set on falling in love with and departing with this exotic fellow, who represents freedom, the exotic, and most of all, purpose in life. 

He, on the other hand, wants nothing more than to jump ship, to escape the stultifying space-kibbutz life, to experience the beauty of humanity's Home.

Each of them poison each other's greener grass, and the encounter is an unhappy one.

If there's such a thing as a "meet cute," then this is a "meet ugly," but it's quite poignant.  Brunner does good work.  Four stars.

Magnetohydrodynamics, by Ben Bova

I really wanted to like this nonfiction article.  After all, it's about a genuinely scientific topic, a revolutionary one.  MHD allows the generation of power without moving physical parts, instead using magnetic fields and plasma.  It's the kind of technology required if we ever want to build fusion power plants.  Plus, Asimov likes the guy.

But boy is this piece dull.  It's not quite as dry as reading a patent, but it's in the same ballpark.  I've heard similar reviews of Bova's work in other magazines, so I can't be the only one who feels this way.

Anyway, two stars.

The Captive Djinn, by Christopher Anvil


by John Schoenherr

Captured human on a planet of cats at a 19th Century technology level outwits his jailers through the use of basic chemistry and the exploitation of the felines' stupidity.

If there were an award for "Story that best exemplifies Chris Anvil's work for John Campbell," this would win.  Two stars.

Beautiful art by Schoenherr, though.  He's definitely going to get a Galactic Star again this year!

The Prophet of Dune (Part 5 of 5), by Frank Herbert

And now we come to the greatest coup of all, the finale of the longest serial I've ever read in a magazine.

Technically, Dune is two serials, and there have been other five-part novels.  But Prophet of Dune is not a sequel to Dune World but the latter "novel's" conclusion.

It's been a long trek. It started with Duke Leto Atreides acquiring the fiefdom that included Arrakis, a desert planet and the only source of the spice melange. This cinnamon-smelling spice is an anti-agathic and also conveys a limited form of precognition.

For the Empire's rich, it livens food and lengthens lives.

For the Navigators' Guild, the spice allows its specialists to navigate the hazardous byways of hyperspace.

For the Bene Gesserit, a religious order of women, it facilitates their plans to manipulate history through the deliberate mixing of blood-lines; their hope is to eventually produce the "Kwisatz Haderach," a sort of messiah, a man with the powers of the Bene Gesserit.

Duke Leto was not long for his reign.  The Harkonnen family from whom Arrakis was transferred immediately schemed to regain it, attacking the planet, killing Leto, and forcing Leto's concubine, the Bene Gesserit Jessica, and their son, Paul, to go into hiding among the native "Fremen."  So ended the first serial.


by John Schoenherr

Baron Harkonnen installed a ruthless nephew on Arrakis with the goal of fomenting a rebellion. His plan would then be to take personal control, relax the tyranny, and turn the Fremen into the greatest army the Empire had ever seen, even more fearsome than the Saudukar, the Imperial guard.

Out in the desert, Paul spends a harsh two years learning the ways of the desert. Moisture is priceless, and all sand-dwellers wear water-recycling "still-suits."  The voracious sandworms are both a constant threat and a valuable commodity, for it is their waste that is refined into spice. 

While among the Fremen, Jessica becomes a Reverend Mother, transforming poisonous sandworm effluence into a substance that allows her to commune with all of her brethren, living and dead.  Because she does so while pregnant, her unborn daughter, Alia, gains the wisdom of a thousand women and is born an adult in a child's body.

Paul is initiated into Fremen culture, eventually assuming the mantle of Muad'Dib, savior of the desert people.  Under his leadership, the Fremen are united.  They will revolt, as Harkonnen expected, but the event will not unfold as the Baron desires.

In this final installment of Dune, Paul launches his attack even while the Padishah Emperor, himself, has visited the planet with five legions of Saudukar, and all of the great families have surrounded Arrakis with warships.  But the hopeless position of Muad'Dib turns out to be unbeatable: for Paul controls the production of spice.  Without it, the nobility is crippled, space is unnavigable.  Thus young Atreides emerges utterly triumphant with virtual control of the Empire, a bethrothal to the Emperor's daughter, and freedom for the people of Arrakis.

I have to give credit to Frank Herbert for creating a universe of ambitious scope.  There's a lot to Dune, and the author clearly has a penchant for world-building.  He takes from a wide variety of sources, particularly Arabic and Persian, creating a setting quite different from what we usually see in science fiction.  The result is not unlike the landscapes generated by Cordwainer Smith, whose upbringing included time in China, or Mack Reynolds, whose writing is informed by extensive travel behind the Iron Curtain and in the Mahgreb.

But.

There's plenty not to like, too.  Herbert is an author of no great technical skill, and his writing ranges from passable to laughably bad.  There wasn't so much of his third-person omniscient and everywhere-at-once in this installment, but it wasn't completely absent, either.  The writing is humorless, grandiose (even pompous), and generally not a pleasure to read. 

Beyond that, the work is highly reactionary.  I was originally pleased to see several female characters in the story.  Lady Jessica often is the viewpoint, though given Herbert's love of switching perspective every third line, that's not quite so noteworthy.  But in the end, even the most prominent women are limited to their medieval roles, that of wife and bearer of greatness.  Dune is a man's world. 

Then there are the fedayken, the people of the desert clearly modeled on the Arabs.  And who should lead them to freedom?  Not a local son, no; only T. E. Lawrence Jesus Atreides can save them. 

It's an unsettling subtext in our post-colonial times: a galactic empire, decadent and crumbling, requires an infusion of European boldness to restore it to vigor.  Is it any surprise that this novel came out in Analog?

So, on the one hand, I give this installment four stars.  It kept me interested, and I appreciated the intricacy of the conclusion.  Looking over my tally for the other seven parts of this sprawling opus, that ends us at exactly three stars. 

I think that's fair.  Some will praise the book for its vision and be undaunted by the quality of the prose or the offensiveness of its underpinnings.  Those folks will probably nominate it for another Hugo next year.  Others will give up in boredom around page 35.  I read the whole thing because I had to.  I didn't hate it; I even respect it to a degree.  But I see its many many flaws.

Let the adulatory/damning letters begin!

Running the Numbers

Once again, Analog finishes at the top of the heap; at 3.3 stars, it ties with Science-Fantasy.  It's been a good month for fiction overall, with New Worlds and Amazing scoring 3.2. 

Fantastic gets a solid 3 stars, and IF just misses the mark at 2.8. 
Fantasy and Science Fiction disappoints with 2.7, though its Zenna Henderson story may be the best of the month.

While women may be making a comeback as fictional characters, as writers, they're still conspicuously absent.  Only 2 of the 38 fiction pieces were written by women.

Perhaps it's time for a coup.  Summon the 101st Airborne!

Our last three Journey shows were a gas!  You can watch the kinescope reruns here).  You don't want to miss the next episode, May 9 at 1PM PDT, a special Arts and Entertainment edition featuring Arel Lucas, Cora Buhlert, Erica Frank…and Dr. Who producer, Verity Lambert! Register today and we'll make sure you don't forget.




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Magazine, Science Fiction/Fantasy, Serial

[April 28, 1965] Mermaids, Persian Gods and Time Travel New Worlds and Science Fantasy, April/May 1965

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by Mark Yon

Scenes from England

Hello again!

We seem to be heading into warmer weather here in England. Say it quietly, but Spring might actually be here.

[Flowers in Stratford upon Avon]

First up: Science Fantasy.


[Art by Keith Roberts – who else?]

This month’s ‘arty’ cover is by the prolific Keith Roberts, who seems to be everywhere at the moment. His colour artwork was last seen on the cover of the January issue, this one to my mind is just as odd. Are British magazine covers meant to look like they are painted by a child? I despair, especially when I see the covers for the US magazines, which by comparison are so much more than what we get here. The best that can be said here though is that they reflect the changes in the magazines at the moment. They are determined to be different.

The Editorial this month mentions the up-coming British Worldcon later this year – now less than four months away! – and how to apply to attend. It also enquires about letters on the idea of genre and also mentions that there will be a letters page – soon! However, before readers get their hopes up that Science Fantasy will take on other New Worlds staples like the Ratings list – it’s not going to happen.

To the stories themselves.

The Impossible Smile (part 1), by Jael Cracken

Last month our first story was one by the up-coming Worldcon Guest of Honour, Brian Aldiss. This month – its actually the same, though Brian is writing under a pseudonym. (Why do authors do that?)

The Impossible Smile begins with an assassination. Jim Bull, leader of the British Republics is killed in his bathroom. The assassin escapes to a hall near Norwich, the nation’s capital, where Conrad Wyvern lives. It appears that the dictatorship are hunting for telepaths. Although Wyvern is working for the Republics in training new recruits, he is also a man with a secret, and a determination to revenge the apparent death of his sister.

The Impossible Smile is another dystopian future. It reminded me of the future depicted by Hilary Bailey in Moorcock’s New Worlds in the July/August 1964 issue. This covers similar ground but being Aldiss-by-another-name, is in my opinion, better written.

It is quite understated in the way it describes some of the horrors this future holds. Troops shoot citizens with little provocation and this seems to be accepted.

Suspects are taken for interrogation at the base on the Moon and, in a nod I rather suspect is to Orwell, all there work to try and support the supercomputer rather amusingly named ‘Big Bert’. (The American computer by comparison is amusingly named ‘Fall Guy’.)

Weirdly, The Impossible Smile comes across as a mixture of George Orwell’s 1984 and Ian Fleming’s James Bond, with a touch of A E van Vogt’s Slan, a combination I am sure is deliberate.  The general tone is a little uneven however, lurching from torture to comedy sometimes in the same paragraph.

Nevertheless, there’s a lot I liked about this one and a great cliff-hanger ending. Another strong start to an issue, and I look forward to the last part next month. 4 out of 5.

The Middle Ground, by Keith Roberts

Another issue, another Anita story by Keith Roberts.  This time, our teen-witch meets a lonely ghost, recently killed in a road accident. She discovers why the ghost is still haunting around The Dog and Duck and after a bizarre matchmaking ritual with the local witch Controller, manages to get the spirit to leave to a better place. A relatively minor tale, which has the blessed relief of there being a lack of Granny Thompson in this story, although she does appear briefly. Little to add here other than what has been said before. Fans will like it, others will remain unmoved. 3 out of 5.

Housel, by Alan Burns

A weird one. A housel appears to be a mental magnifier that transforms where you live into where you’d want to live, creating a virtual reality environment. This one sets things up nicely but when it attempts to add aliens and interplanetary warfare it becomes too silly and far-fetched for me. There’s an interesting idea here but when it is pushed to its extremes just wouldn’t work. 2 out of 5.

Vashti, by Thomas Burnett-Swann

Perhaps this month’s most anticipated story (at least, by me). Having taken on Greek mythology in the Blue Monkeys serial, which has been one of the highlights of recent Science Fantasy issues for me, this time around Thomas takes on Persian mythology in this novelette.

It is the story of the dwarf Ianiskos, who has moved from Greece to Persia with King Xerxes. Vashti is the King’s wife, who up to now has been barren, despite the King wanting children. Under the threat of death, Vashti leaves the King and returns to her land of Petra, followed by Ianiskos.

The land of Persia is an area rich in mythology to choose from and this is a great story, written in Burnett-Swann’s lyrical fashion. The way that Thomas rewrites these stories for contemporary audiences is still magical. 4 out of 5.

Timmy and the Angel, by Philip Wordley

Another story from Philip, last seen in the March 1965 issue. It is a minor tale to finish the issue on. A story of how an alien ambassador, who has taken the form of an angel, manages to get seven-year-old Timmy to use his latent telekinetic powers to make the Human Race take pause before launching themselves into Space. It’s a nice enough first contact story which trades on the innocence of children to do something for the greater good. Well-meaning and generally positive, it’s about as anti-war as you can get. Think of it as an alternative to Clarke’s Childhoods End, with aliens guiding humans towards mutual benefits for all. But in the end, perhaps not one that’ll be remembered for too long. 3 out of 5.

Summing up Science Fantasy

Another issue that I liked a lot. The Cracken/Aldiss serial is good, the Anita story acceptable, but the novelette by Thomas Burnett Swann is the best story of the issue by far. My only quibble with it is that it is very similar in style to the serial of a few months ago.

The Second Issue At Hand

This month’s New Worlds was heralded as being special and I was hoping for a bit of a treat.


[Art by Robert J. Tilley ]

The Robert J. Tilley cover though is a bit of a disappointment and looks rather cheap, although unusually the inside front cover shows us more than normal:

And what handsome chaps they all look! This might be promising, after all.

Oh, but hang on – the editorial is a guest one by none other than E J (John) Carnell, the recently deposed editor of New Worlds.

Now, I must admit that Mike Moorcock and the new staff of the magazines have always been respectful to the efforts made by John and valued his contribution to the genre, even when minor mortals such as myself have been less positive. As expected, this is a self-satisfying, rallying call acclaiming the importance of British SF, not just to us regular readers but also to the world.  It is a bold statement, which is uncharacteristic of us normally self-restrained Brits. Perhaps that’s why I’m uncomfortable about it.

Time Trap, by Charles L. Harness


[Art by James Cawthorn]

The novella begins in a court. Jon Troy and his telepath wife Ann are accused of murdering leader Provinarch Blogshak. The wife has been convicted already and put under some sort of drugged suspended animation, but Jon seems strangely unperturbed by his death sentence.  He manages to avoid incarceration on a legal technicality, expertly manoeuvred by his advocate Mr. Poole. On leaving court, Poole shows Jon that he as a special power that makes him extremely useful. Using his wife as a hostage, Jon is forced to help the not-really-dead Blogshak save the life of an alien renegade known as the Outcast. Jon is persuaded not to save it but to kill it. The reason for it is revealed by the end of the story.

This is one of those stories that seems to fit with many of the old clichés of science fiction. We have alien monsters, telepathic superpowers and big cosmic ideas that wouldn’t be out of place in a Golden Age space opera story. This is to such an extent that I thought it was meant to be an homage to those stories at first. However, what the editor Mike Moorcock doesn’t tell us is that this is a reprint of a story first published in 1948. As it makes some of the current writers look shabby, Harness deserves credit for writing an energetic tale – a debut story, as well – with big, ambitious aims, if a little lacking on the execution of the ideas. In fact, the story seems unbalanced. The court scenes at the beginning are good, but too long, with the result that the end is rushed and rather too convenient. There are some interesting and unusual ideas here, but in the end I was disappointed.  3 out of 5.

The Small Betraying Detail, by Brian Aldiss

And after the story in Science Fantasy, another story by Brian this month. However, this one is quite different. It tells of Arthur who is being taken to a TB sanitorium on the Norfolk coast. Whilst on the way he seems to see things around him, including his carers, change and then return back to ‘normal’. Is it that Arthur is now seeing reality or is it evidence of a psychotic break? Aldiss doesn’t make it clear, but the increasing discord between what is ‘real’ and what Arthur sees as an alternative relentlessly increases the disquieting nature of the story. Arthur’s perspective at the end brings things to an almost Lovecraft-ian conclusion. It is an unsettling piece and shows us that Aldiss can write dark stories as well as his usual humorous ones.  3 out of 5.

Nobody Axed You, by John Brunner

John Brunner, another stalwart of these pages over the last decade or so, gives us a novelette with a frankly awful pun-ish title. This one begins with what seems to be a decapitation with an axe, although in reality it is an actor watching his ‘performance’. Gene Gardner appears to kill people for entertainment on television in his weekly programme The Gene Gardner Show-to-Kill-Time. In his efforts to maintain his viewer ratings, measured by the number of deaths occurring by that method the week after the transmission, the actor is driven to gaining better and better DOA ratings.

The world setting is interesting in that the show's purpose seems to be to reduce the population by inspiring viewers to copy the programme. There is an overpopulation issue. A lack of reproduction is seen as a virtue, echoed in both nursery rhymes sung to children and the F-girls, who wear makeup that highlights this letter. (The F stands for 'Frigidity', which is seen as a social aspiration rather than an insult.)

I get the impression that Nobody Axed You is one of those stories that is intended to either amuse or shock – or possibly both! – but did neither for me. Instead it takes a good idea – how far will people go for future entertainment? – and ramps it up to such an absurd degree that it just becomes rather silly in the end. Some may see this as some form of future satire, but it lost that ever-so-important sense of believability fairly early on for me. It is a story with something to say, but seems to do it crudely, in my opinion.

Nevertheless, Nobody Axed You is about 3 out of 5 in the end.

Prisoner of the Coral Deep, by J G Ballard

Last time we had something new from J G it was slightly disappointing – an extract from a clearly bigger story that was to be published later as a novel. This one is different. It starts rather matter-of-fact-ly, with the lead character finding a seashell in a coastal cave where he is sheltering from a storm. He meets a mysterious and alluring woman (possibly a mermaid?) there, who encourages him to listen to the shell, when he appears to find himself somewhere else at another time. The siren has lured him into a strange future – or is it the past? This story is Ballard playing with time again. The reasons for this happening are unclear, yet it is quite vivid in its descriptions of what the man hears. It’s OK, but is it outstanding Ballard? Not really. It is a one-point idea in a short story. Remember to never talk to strange women at the seaside! 3 out of 5.

Alfred's Ark, by Jack Vance

The latest American import to this British magazine.  Is this an attempt to mollify the old guard? Possibly – after all, the recent reprint by Arthur C Clarke did very well in the readers ratings, as I will show later.

Alfred’s Ark is a short story of a small-town American farmer who decides to build an ark against an impending flood, and the effects on his town and his neighbours. As to be expected, it is well-written, very easily read, and pleasantly amusing, but somewhat out of step with the style of the new incarnation of New Worlds. And rather short. 3 out of 5.

The Life Buyer (part 2 of 3), by E.C. Tubb

So, here’s the second part of this three-part serial from a long-time SF writer.

At the end of last issue we were left with a cliff-hanger ending and a number of unresolved issues. Billionaire Marcus King seems to be the target of someone who is trying to kill him. Our hero-detectives Markham and Delmonte are still trying to find out why, but as we discovered last issue, it may be something to do with King’s major product, the krown, which is due to be rolled out into a new version. The krown, when fitted to your head can adapt mental and physical reactions and can allow others to experience your thoughts. It may even be a power-play on the part of King himself.

Tubb is still building this up to an ending and the pages turned easily. I still like this story, although as this is the second of three parts, there’s a lot of running about and checking up of suspects without much really happening. Still interested to see how it ends next month though. 4 out of 5.

Articles and Books

There are no Articles or Letters Pages this month, as the Editor admits that they’ve been left out to give more room to the fiction this month. Nevertheless, there is one small paperback review by James Colvin (aka Mike Moorcock), which is for a non-fiction collection of articles named Fads and Fallacies (in the Name of Science) by Martin Gardner. It seems well liked and thoroughly recommended.

Also welcome, although split across two pages, is a potted summary of the contributors in this issue.

Ratings this month for issue 148 (that’s the March 1965 issue). As I mentioned earlier, the reprint of Arthur C Clarke’s Sunjammer story took the top spot. As I said back then, it’s a good story, but it’s a reprint.  Whilst I’m pleased it did well – I love me a good Clarke story – it is very out of place in this new magazine.

Summing up New Worlds

Perhaps not unexpectedly, the 150th issue is good, but not entirely the treat I was hoping for. Some of the story choices are a little unusual – a 1940’s reprint, a lesser offering from one of our brightest stars at the moment, an unusual one from one of our other bright stars, a minor story from a Hugo Award winner –  but it’s a readable issue on the whole.

It is a little ironic that we have John Carnell writing a self-congratulatory Editorial for a magazine that has moved on so far from what he was selling about a year ago. This issue is not the absolute best New Worlds can do, but it does give a reader an idea of the scope and range of what is out there are the moment. It is still streets ahead of those last Carnell issues.

Summing up overall

Both magazines continue their runs of success for me. The Burnett- Swann novella is perhaps my favourite story of all, but what else could be the winning issue this month but the 150th issue of New Worlds? Even with an eclectic mix and the return of John Carnell…

And that’s it for this time. Until the next…

mall>

 

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Science Fiction/Fantasy, TV

[April 26, 1965] A Stranger in a Strange Land (The Stranger, Australian TV SF)

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by Kaye Dee

I wasn’t contributing to the Journey last year, when Australia’s first home-grown science fiction television show, the children's series The Stranger, premiered in April 1964. So before the second series screens later this year, I thought I would take the opportunity to talk about this milestone in Australian television.


The screen title for The Stranger, with its unique, otherworldly script

Introducing G.K. Saunders

The Australian Broadcasting Commission (ABC) is the first local producer to show an interest in making science fiction for television, adapting The Stranger from a radio serial by prolific radio and television script writer Mr. G. K. "Ken" Saunders. A British-born New Zealander who moved to Australia in 1939, Mr. Saunders began writing scripts for ABC radio children’s programmes as well as radio dramas for one of the commercial networks.

During the War, Mr. Saunders also worked for the Council for Scientific and Industrial Research (CSIR). His exposure to scientific research seems to have sparked an interest in science fiction, because when he returned to writing scripts for ABC radio children’s programming, he produced about a dozen serials with science fiction themes. Mr. Saunders has said that he bases his science fiction on real science, and he consulted scientists from the Commonwealth Scientific and Industrial Research Organisation (CSIRO, the successor to the CSIR) to ensure this. But his stories also have a bit of a twist to them, and both these traits can be seen in The Stranger.


Recording an episode of the Argonauts Club, a popular children's radio programme that has been on air since 1941. Ken Saunders is best known as one of its main script writers since it began

Some of the science fiction serials Mr. Saunders wrote still stick in my mind. His first, The Moon Flower, was broadcast in 1953. It tells the story of the first expedition to the Moon, which discovers a tiny flower in a deep cave. This might seem a bit silly today, with what we now know about the Moon from Ranger 9 and other lunar probes, but back then some scientists still thought there might be simple life on the Moon. There was another one I really liked, in which the first expedition to Alpha Centauri discovers a planet inhabited by a human-like species who are pretty much like us – except they never invented music! I found this a fascinating idea.

The Genesis of The Stranger

Ken Saunders moved to England in 1957, working as a television and radio script writer for the BBC. This is where the story of The Stranger really begins: it was originally written as a six-part radio play for the BBC, which was broadcast in 1963, so perhaps some British readers of this article might even have heard it. From what my friend at the ABC has told me, it seems that the first series of the Australian television version is very similar to the original radio play storyline, with the six 30 minute television episodes drawn from the six parts of the radio serial.


Playing possum. A publicity still showing a scene from the opening teaser, where the stranger pretends to be unconscious at the door of Headmaster Walsh's house

Episode 1

Broadcast on 5 April 1964, the first episode of The Stranger begins with a short teaser: on a classic dark and stormy night, a figure makes its way along a dark street to the gate of a house. A signboard on the fence tells us this is the home of the Headmaster of St Michael’s School for Boys. This stranger walks to the door and lies down, carefully arranging himself to look like he has collapsed. He then taps weakly on the door and closes his eyes pretending he is unconscious. This is followed by the opening credits that are used for the rest of the series: the CSIRO’s Parkes Radio Telescope scans the skies in a timelapse sequence that then dissolves into a cosmic view of stars and nebulae against which the title The Stranger appears, written in an unusual, fantastical script. The author’s credit and episode number then appear over a slow pan of what seems to be a desolate, crater-pocked landscape. These images and the eerie, slightly foreboding theme music, set the scene for the mystery that follows and unfolds over the six episodes.

Headmaster Walsh and his family help the apparently sick stranger on their doorstep, who claims to have lost his memory but speaks with a European accent. When they discover that he speaks French and German there is speculation that perhaps he is Swiss. The rapidly recovering stranger declares that because he cannot recall his own name, he will give himself another: Adam, since he is a ‘new man’, and Suisse, since he is possibly Swiss.


What's in a name? The amnesiac stranger, who has christened himself Adam Suisse, with his hidden radio that sparks the suspicions of our three teenage heroes

Events then move quickly: Adam becomes a language teacher at St. Michael’s and takes up residence in a disused building on the school grounds. There, at the end of Episode 1, the teenage Walsh children, Bernie and Jean, and their friend Peter, accidentally discover a strange radio-like device, hidden under a loose floorboard. Turning it on, they hear speech in a foreign language.

Episode 2

The teenagers suspect that Adam is a spy. Although he attempts to allay their suspicions, Peter is not convinced, and they follow Adam on one of his weekend bushwalks in the Blue Mountains. Adam has spoken passionately about his love for walking in the bushland and being close to nature but disparages reports about flying saucers seen in the area where he likes to hike. Bernie, Jean and Peter try to track Adam through the bush and at the end of the episode come face to face with a hidden flying saucer!


Not what you expect to find on a bushwalk! The "flying saucer" piloted by Adam's friend Varossa, hidden away in the Blue Mountains

Episode 3

Adam takes the three teenagers onboard the flying saucer, revealing that he represents about 300 survivors living inside a colony ship created from a small planetary moon. Known as Soshuniss, the moon-ship has been travelling for generations since the planet from which its people originally came was poisoned and made unlivable by some kind of “accident”. The Soshunites seek a new home and have been reconnoitring the Earth. They would like to live here, but have no intention of invading, as they are a peaceful people. Back on Earth, the teenagers’ disappearance is treated by the police as an elaborate hoax, abetted by the missing Adam. When Adam and the teenagers arrive on Soshuniss, they are taken to an audience with the Soshun, the leader of the Soshunites.


Fly me to the moon! Adam reveals the truth about himself to Jean, Peter and Bernie, on board the spaceship travelling to the moon-ship Soshuniss

Episode 4

The surprised teenagers discover that the Soshun is a pleasant elderly woman. She asks them to deliver a letter to the Australian Prime Minister requesting permission for the Soshunites to settle in part of Australia. In return the Soshunites will share their scientific knowledge with the world. On returning to Earth with Adam and his friend Varossa, the young people’s story is disbelieved by their parents and the police. The Soshunites are arrested as kidnappers and spies, while visiting American scientist Prof. Mayer persuades the teenagers to prove their story by taking him secretly to the hidden spaceship they returned on. Although he is convinced of the truth of the story when he sees the spaceship, the police have been following them and Bernie attempts to take off with the others in the flying saucer to return it to the Soshunites.


Take me to your leader! Peter, Bernie, Prof. Mayer and Jean meet the Soshun, who can be seen in the background of this shot

Episode 5

Bernie is unable to properly control the spacecraft and the friends are rescued by another ship and taken to Soshuniss. The police who saw the flying saucer lift off contact the authorities and the spacecraft is tracked by radar and then the Parkes Radio Telescope to the moon-ship 50,000 miles into space. There is now no question that the aliens are real and the case becomes a Security matter. Although the Soshun sends Bernie, Jean and Peter back to Earth, Prof. Mayer stays on Soshuniss to learn more about it. Meanwhile, at the end of the episode, Adam and Varossa have escaped from prison and await rescue from Soshuniss.

Episode 6

In the final episode, matters come to a head. Bernie, Jean and Peter are pressured by the authorities to reveal where the Soshunites are hiding, as they are now considered alien spies. However, the Soshun has returned Prof. Mayer to the United Nations in New York, repeating her request to be allowed to settle in Australia in exchange for Soshunian scientific knowledge. He convinces a UN Special Committee and just as Adam and Varossa are about to be re-arrested by the police, word comes through that the UN has accepted the Soshunites' offer and they will be allowed to settle on Earth. The episode concludes on what is both a happy ending and a cliffhanger suggesting there is still more of the story to come….


TV Times preview article from April 1964 promoting the premiere of The Stranger

Australia's Answer to Doctor Who?

Although The Stranger is classed as a children’s programme, it has much to hold the attention of an adult viewer, just like Doctor Who, to which it is now being compared. However, producer Storry Walton dislikes the comparison and believes that the Australian show is more creative and has better production values, with more sequences filmed on location. Locations for the series included St Paul's University College in Sydney (in the role of St Michael’s school), the Blue Mountains, exteriors at the ABC headquarters campus (masquerading as various locations, including Idlewild Airport!) and Canberra.


On the set during the production of The Stranger while filming a scene on Soshuniss. Adam tells the trio from Earth that the Soshunites originally wore their hair long, but have cut it to fit in more comfortably on Earth.

Both Mr. Saunders and the Production Designer, Mr. Geoffrey Wedlock paid particular attention to portraying the Soshunians as a plausible, but alien, extraterrestrial society. Mr. Saunders created a language for the inhabitants of Soshuniss to speak among themselves, and it is believably and naturalistically spoken by the actors. When they speak English, all the Soshunians have a European-sounding accent, signifying that they are not speaking their native language. One of Saunders’ characteristic twists is that the Soshun is a woman, rather than a man as might be expected, and that her title is also the word for “mother”: Soshuniss therefore means “the motherland”. The CSIRO was also engaged to advise on the design of the Soshunian “flying saucer”, to make it as plausible a spacecraft as possible.

Underneath its well-crafted juvenile surface story, The Stranger also touches on some important issues including the treatment of refugees and European migrants to Australia and the concerns that many people are starting to have about industrial pollution damaging the environment. Although the “accident” that poisoned the Soshunian’s home planet is not specified, there are hints that its environment may have been destroyed by some kind terrible industrial accident that released toxic chemicals.


Veteran actor Ron Haddrick, well known to Australian viewers, gives adult nuance to his performance as Adam Suisse, the titular Stranger

The cast of The Stranger, while mostly actors well known in Australia, would not be familiar to those of you overseas, but I must mention the distinguished theatrical performer Ron Haddrick, who played the part of Adam Suisse without the least condescension to the younger viewers at whom the show is aimed, much like William Hartnell approaches his role on Doctor Who.

Coming Soon

The second series of The Stranger is due to start in July this year and hints of the new storyline are beginning to emerge. Storry Walton mentioned in a recent interview that the second series would complicate the political situation surrounding the Soshunians request to live in Australia, with a suggestion that doubts would begin to grow about the good intentions of the aliens. I’m quite looking forward to this new series and perhaps those of you in Britain and the US may get to see it too, as the BBC has already bought the first series for screening next year and there are rumours that it may be bought by a US network as well.




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Magazine, Science Fiction/Fantasy, Serial

[April 24, 1965] Every Silver Lining Has A Cloud (May 1965 Fantastic)

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Our last two Journey shows were a gas!  You can watch the kinescope reruns here). 


You don't want to miss the next episode of The Journey Show, April 25 (tomorrow) at 1PM PDT featuring professional flautist Acacia Weber as the special musical guest serving up some groovy period tunes.

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by Victoria Silverwolf

Can't Anybody Here Play This Game?

Sports history was made this month, with the first major league baseball game played indoors. It took place inside the newly completed Harris County Domed Stadium, located in Houston, Texas. The exhibition game between the Houston Astros and the New York Yankees took place before nearly fifty thousand fans, including the President of the United States. Fortunately for LBJ and other native sons of the Lone Star State, the home team won, two to one, after an exciting game lasting twelve innings.

There's something futuristic about a baseball diamond under a dome, isn't there?

So what's the fly in this athletic ointment? Well, the game was played at night, which disguised a serious flaw in the design of the stadium. During daylight hours, if the sun isn't blocked by clouds, the transparent panels covering the dome cause a lot of glare. Fielders can't see fly balls, leading to a whole bunch of errors. Oops.

Is This Music Or Comedy?

In yet another invasion of the American music charts by a British band, a bunch of fellows calling themselves Freddie and the Dreamers reached Number One with a cheerful, if undistinguished, pop song called I'm Telling You Now.


If you think they look a little silly here, wait until you see their act.

This superficial ditty would quickly fade from the memory of anybody listening to it on AM radio, or on a 45, I think. However, if you happen to catch the Dreamers performing live or on TV, I doubt if you'll forget the antics of Freddie, doing a bizarre dance that looks like something they made you do in PE class. The combination of the sound of the Beatles and the look of Jerry Lewis is disconcerting, to say the least.

Situation Normal; All Fouled Up

Given these missteps in the worlds of sports and music, it seems appropriate that many of the stories in the latest issue of Fantastic features situations that go from bad to worse. One of the paradoxes of literature is that misfortune can often make for enjoyable fiction. That's not always true, of course, so let's take a look and judge each effort on its merits.


Cover art by Gray Morrow. I hope you like it, because there are no interior illustrations at all.

The Crib of Hell, by Arthur Pendragan

Speaking of foul-ups, the magazine starts off right away with a mistake. It's obvious that the last name of the creator of this gruesome horror story should be Pendragon, not Pendragan. How do I know? Well, for one thing, that version of the name appeared with a very similar tale in the April 1964 issue. For another, anyone familiar with the myths of Camelot knows that Pendragon is the correct spelling of King Arthur's surname. I don't know who's hiding behind this royal pseudonym, but he or she has more in common with H. P Lovecraft and Edgar Allan Poe than the Once and Future King.

New England, 1924. In the suggestively named town of Sabbathday, a doctor visits the mentally tortured inhabitant of an isolated mansion. (His role should be played by Vincent Price.) Since the death of his spinster sister, he's been charged with (dramatic pause) the Guardianship. It seems that his late father's second wife, named Ligea (an apparent allusion to Poe's short story Ligeia — another change in spelling!) was a witch. Just before her death, she gave birth to a deformed creature, kept locked up in the mansion. Ghastly events follow.

There aren't many surprises in this chiller. The reader is ready for the monster to appear long before it steps onto the stage. After a slow start, the action builds to a frenzied climax. The resemblance to a horror movie that I've hinted at above grows stronger at the ambiguous last scene, when there should be one of those The End (?) final credits that you get at the conclusion of some scare flicks.

Three stars.

Playmate, by David R. Bunch

We return to the dystopian world of Moderan, where things have gone badly many times before. In this disturbing future of endless automated warfare and people who have replaced most of their bodies with metal, a little girl receives a robot playmate. Her barely human father has other uses for it.

There's not really much plot to this grim little tale, other than the basic premise. The author's unique style, and what seems to be a sardonic look at the thin line between humans and machines, make up for this lack, to some extent.

Three stars.

The Other Side of Time (Part Two of Three), by Keith Laumer

It would be tedious for me to try to provide an accurate summary of the dizzying array of events that occurred in the first third of this novel. (Besides, I'm lazy.) Suffice to say that the narrator, after a ton of wild adventures in multiple alternate realities, is now in exile in yet another world, with much of his memory erased.

This is a place where Napoleon was triumphant, so the planet is dominated by the French Empire. Technology is at the level of steam engines and the early use of electricity, without the gizmo that allows folks to journey between different realities. Even though the narrator manages to regain his memory, with the help of a hypnotist who disguises herself as an old crone, it seems impossible for him to return to his home.

Or is it? In a desperate attempt to recreate the device he needs, the narrator and the hypnotist, now a loyal companion, travel to Rome, in search of this world's version of the scientist who invented it. After much effort, some of it on the comic side, he succeeds.

Or does he? It's out of the frying pan and into the fire, because now he's in a prehistoric world, full of dangerous beasts. Only the very end of this installment offers a hint as to how the narrator is going to get out of this mess.

After the breakneck pace of the first segment, this portion comes as something of a relief. A touch of comedy, when the narrator uses his wits rather his fists to get what he wants, is most welcome. The hypnotist is a very appealing character. She's intelligent, capable, and brave. There's a hint of romance between the two, but since the narrator is happily married in his own world, I assume this isn't going to continue. In any case, I liked this third a little better than the first one.

Four stars.

Terminal, by Ron Goulart

A writer better known for slapstick farce offers a much darker vision of the future than usual. A man finds himself in a home for the elderly run by robots. He's not old, so he knows he doesn't belong there, but parts of his memory are gone (just like in the Laumer.) The inefficient robots aren't any help at all, and things go very badly indeed.

Much of the story deals with the fellow's interactions with the other inhabitants of this hellish institution. These characters are sketched quickly, in effective and poignant ways. I was particularly taken with the man who just quotes poetry at random. The whole thing is a powerful, bitter satire of society's treatment of the elderly.

Four stars.

Miranda, by John Jakes

The time is the American Civil War. The place is Georgia, during Sherman's March to the Sea. A Union officer loses the rest of his outfit. Knocked unconscious when he falls from his horse, he wakes up in the plantation home of a woman whose husband was killed by the Yankees. She holds him prisoner, taunting him with the point of a saber and offering him poisoned wine. The officer sees strange, frightening apparitions, and learns the terrifying truth about the woman.

This is a fairly effective ghost story, with a convincing portrayal of the time and place. The author shows a gift for historical fiction, and he may not need supernatural elements to succeed in that genre.

Three stars.

Red Carpet Treatment, by Robert Lipsyte

There's not a lot to say about this two-page oddity. Passengers on an airplane hear an announcement that they're on their way to Heaven. The folks aboard the plane — a priest, a child and his mother, a young married couple, a rich man and his girlfriend, and so on — react in various ways. There's a slight, predictable twist at the end.

I suppose it's about the way we deal with the awareness of death. I'm not sure if it's supposed to be a joke or not.

Two stars.

Junkman, by Harold Stevens

Things are also going very wrong in this story, but this time the intent is strictly humorous. A series of brief vignettes throughout time show stuff getting all mixed up. There's a bowling ball in prehistoric times, a typewriter in the Dark Ages, etc. Eventually we figure out that a super-genius invented a time machine, and caused all the chaos. Since this is a time travel story, we've got a paradox at the end. I found it overlong and not very amusing.

One star.

I Think They Love Me, by Walter F. Moudy

At first, this seems to be a war story, as we witness a scarred veteran, too old for active service at the advanced age of twenty-four, lecture young recruits on the dangers they face. Pretty soon we figure out that these guys are the members of a rock 'n' roll band, and that the enemy consists of hordes of screaming teenage girls. As in just about every other story in this issue, things don't work out well.

I like this mordant satire of Beatlemania more than it deserves, maybe. Sure, the premise is silly, and mocking teen idols isn't the most original thing in the world. Yet somehow I found its mad logic compelling enough to go along with it.

Three stars.

Light At The End Of The Tunnel?

After reading about all these fictional mishaps and disasters, it may be tempting to be a little fatalistic about the state of fantastic fiction these days. On the other hand, although this issue has a couple of losers, there's also some decent reading to be had. I suppose it all depends on how you look at it.


A recent ad for what may be one of the late JFK's most important legacies.




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Magazine

[April 22, 1965] Cracker Jack issue (May 1965 Fantasy and Science Fiction)

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by Gideon Marcus

A surprise at the bottom

I'm sure everyone's familiar with America's snack, as ubiquitous at ball games as beer and hotdogs.  As caramel corn goes, it's pretty mediocre stuff, though once you start eating, you find you can't stop.  And the real incentive is the prize waiting for you at the bottom of the box.  Will it be a ring?  A toy or a little game?  Maybe a baseball card.

This month, like most months recently, The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction is kind of like a box of Cracker Jacks.  But the prize at the end of the May 1965 issue is worth the chore of getting there.

A handful of corn


by Mel Hunter

Mr. Hunter continues to make beautiful covers that have nothing to do with the interior contents.  Also, his spaceships look like something out of the early 1950s.  With so many real spaceships to draw inspiration from, it's sad that our rocketships still look derived from the V2.

The Earth Merchants, by Norman Kagan

As early as 1963, folks have been complaining about the space program.  In Kagan's latest work, there is a tight conspiracy to topple NASA through a comprehensive propaganda campaign.  On the eve of the launch of the Behemoth, the first commercially profitable spaceship, the media is filled with advertisements like this:

Dear Elder Citizen;

Hungry?  Too bad that your social security allotment is so small, but just think, six months ago an astronaut circled Mars.  He had a steak dinner the night before he blasted off–

And

Billions for the moon, because the work will have byproducts for medical research?  Why not billions for medical research–it's just as likely to have byproducts for space flight!

The inevitable result is that when things go wrong at launch time, the NASA engineers throw up their hands and let disaster occur.  The viewpoint character, a psychologist who initially leads the project with vigor ends the story with a migraine and a profound sense of guilt.

There are a lot of problems with this story, from its plodding, heavy-handedness to its utter implausibility, not to mention the casual male-chauvinism.  I'm not sure if it's being deliberately provocative to inspire support of the space program or if it's just being satirical for satire's sake.  Either way, its effectiveness is compromised by its inept execution.

Two stars.


by Gahan Wilson

The powers at F&SF have replaced the Feghoot puns with Wilson's art.  God help me, but I think I preferred Feghoot.

Romance in an Eleventh-Century Recharging Station, by Robert F. Young

The Master of Maudlin returns with a sci-fi spin on the Sleeping Beauty story.  Young is a great writer, but his Fractured Fairy Tales are always the least of his works.

I suspect John Boston would give this a one and Victoria Silverwolf a three.  I'll split the difference.  Two stars.

Mammoths and Mastodons, by L. Sprague de Camp

I'm not sure why F&SF included an article on extinct members of Family Elephantidae, but it suffers greatly for being in a magazine that eschews pictures.  It would have been far better suited to, say, Analog.

Three stars, I guess.

The Gritsch System, by Robin Scott Wilson

How to keep a dozen scientists disciplined long enough to put together an engineering project in space?  Give them a distasteful thirteenth teammate to be their scapegoat and whipping boy.

I really disliked the message of this one ("the best way to unite a team is a common enemy") and the one-note story didn't need nineteen pages to tell it.

On the other hand, at least it was actually science fiction taking place in space.  So, two stars.

Short Cut, by Deborah Crawford

Newcomer Deborah Crawford offers an odd poem about the lack of art appreciation in a computerized world.  It lacks much rhyme or meter, but I appreciated the joke at the end. 

Three stars.

Books, by Judith Merril

I normally don't include mention of F&SF's book column.  I just found it noteworthy as it appears Ms. Merril is now the regular reviewer (this magazine is a good home for her given her more progressive predilections), and two of the books she reviews have been reviewed here (Andromeda Breakthrough by Fred Hoyle and The Alien Way, by Gordy Dickson).

Sonny, by Robert L. Fish

SAC base gets a spiffy replacement for its IBM computer.  Between its alcohol-based coolant and a couple of prankster scientists, it proves less than a success.

If I never see a sentient computer gag story again, it'll be too soon.  I would like an author to appreciate that 1) computers will never be sentient, and 2) if they ever do obtain a kind of consciousness, it will in no way mimic that of humans.

One star.

To Tell a Chemist, by Isaac Asimov

In this month's (second) non-fiction article, The Good Doctor expounds on moles, the chemical kind, and the origin of Avogadro's number.  I found this article more disjointed than most, and it felt like, if I hadn't know most of the stuff already, I wouldn't have made much sense of it.

Three stars.

The Prize

No Different Flesh, by Zenna Henderson

Ah, but the last quarter of the magazine is sublime, passing the bedtime test (i.e. if I'm supposed to be asleep but I will not turn out the light until I finish a story, it's gotta be good).

This is a The People story, featuring an ordinary Terran couple with highly relatable sorrows.  They take in a seemingly abandoned child with extraordinary powers, a merciful act that is repaid in the most satisfying of ways.

The Journey's esteemed editor has a maxim: "Good writing is the art of making small things matter."  Zenna Henderson is a good writer.  One of the best.

Five stars.

Aftertaste

Cracker Jack really isn't that good, is it?  But that prize, though!  So even though the magazine scores just 2.7 stars overall, it might be worth picking up a copy for the Henderson.

On the other hand, since there's already been one anthology of People stories, there probably will be another.  In which case, you might well wait until then.  Better a box of prizes than a box of Cracker Jack!

Our last two Journey shows were a gas!  You can watch the kinescope reruns here).  You don't want to miss the next episode, April 25 at 1PM PDT featuring flautist Acacia Weber as the special musical guest.





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Movies

[April 20, 1965] Less Satanic Than Expected (John Sturges' The Satan Bug)

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by Erica Frank

When I heard about the new movie, The Satan Bug, I was excited. I have a deep interest in the occult and "lunatic fringe" religions, so I was looking forward to something exotic. I expected it'd be a horror movie with no real research behind it, but I hoped for a verse or two of Aleister Crowley's poem, Hymn to Satan, or perhaps a mention of Anton Lavey's occult workshops in San Francisco.

Poster for The Satan Bug with the tagline, Since time began, man has hunted the ultimate evil... now the search is over!
Maybe it involves alchemy? An evil sorcerer's laboratory? Souls extracted from bodies and poured into a beaker?

Alas; it was not to be. Once I saw the trailer, I realized this is not a story about a giant demon-possessed insect, nor is it a hellish romance inspired by Roy Orbison's song, With the Bug. Instead, it's a mystery-thriller centered around a bioengineered killer disease.

Middle-Aged Men in Suits

The story opens in a remote government scientific laboratory with extensive security measures. (Station 3 is "the most secret chemical warfare establishment on this hemisphere," we discover later.) Mr. Reagan (pronounced ree-gan, not ray-gan like the actor from last year's The Killers) is the "Washington guy." He arrives by helicopter and gets checked in at the gate, and the guards know him personally. Doctor Ostrer is just leaving as Reagan arrives, but arranges to speak with him in the morning. Reagan goes through multiple checkpoints inside as well. The actual lab has thick vault doors with a timer at night; there's no way to get in once they shut.

Three doctors are present: Doctor Baxter, who is in charge, Doctor Hoffman, and Doctor Yang. I hoped this wouldn't be a case of "the Asian fellow is the villain" – and it was not! Instead, we see Doctor Yang for less than thirty seconds and he never appears again.

After showing off the security measures for several minutes, we get a moment of suspense: Reagan tells Dr. Baxter that Washington is worried. Doctor Baxter points to the flask on his desk and says, "What they're really worried about is that." Reagan asks him to get some rest, and warns him that mistakes could be worse than deadly here.

Two men talk in a science lab. One of them indicates the red-topped flask on the table in front of him.
We don't yet have a name for the red-topped flask, just the awareness that a very tired scientist is staring at it in frustration.

By morning, although they don't know all of this yet, Reagan is dead, Ostrer is dead, Baxter is dead, several flasks are missing, and they've called in a special investigator: Lee Barrett. He's a former US Intelligence officer who quit because "war had aged him so fast" he felt "too old to play with toys." Barrett is a rebel, an extremely competent man who doesn't cooperate with authority. Coincidentally, he formerly worked at Station 3.

The Handsome Hero

The subterfuge of Barrett's introduction is a delightful lagniappe of a spy-thriller story: To bring him into an active case, first they had to test his loyalty with a fake job from the World Peace Organization: "Deliver this flask of botulinus vaccine–don't ask how we got it–to this address in Europe." Barrett is very clever and immediately spots the scam: Vaccines aren't stored at Station 3 and he personally knows the loathsome fellow who's behind the World Peace Organization.

Once he's established as "loyal, although insubordinate," he's brought to Station 3, where he chats with one of the security guards before looking at the crime scene. This shows that Barrett has true investigator talents: He knows who notices the details that will matter, and he trusts Johnson's judgment.

Barrett talks with his friend Johnson, a Black security guard
Jonhson: "Mr Tasserly says, and Mason, he swears, that nobody got into E Lab. But I don't think Reagan committed suicide in there." Barrett agrees.

Barrett quickly establishes how the murderer escaped, and realizes he must've gotten in through the crates of "lab equipment" that came in yesterday. That means there was inside help, but sorting that out can wait. The real risk is not the lives of the base personnel, but the release of the chemical weapons being developed in E Lab. Dr. Hoffman insists the lab must be destroyed immediately, before opening the vault doors.

Our Villain: A Small Jar

Hoffman first discusses the dangers of the previously mentioned botulinus. He explains, "We have 1200 grams in six flasks. If ten grams of it were allowed to contaminate a city, that city is a morgue in four hours. It is an… ideal weapon, God forgive the phrase, because it destroys only people. And it oxidizes itself, in effect, dies–disappears–after eight hours."

Any persons with medical training should be warned not to laugh, as the music here indicates tension and danger. A virus that vanishes literally overnight cannot reach all the people in a city unless the initial distribution is perfectly and widely dispersed; air does not instantly reach all places in a city. After an initial tragic wave of deaths, people hiding indoors would avoid the rest of the attack. People driving to hospitals might never arrive, and not have the chance to infect anyone else in the few hours they have. It would indeed be a super-weapon, but not the catastrophic one the movie seems to imply.

Such a virus could never happen in nature, as it would kill its host and then die itself. The disease cannot spread by normal routes–eight hours is not a very long contagious period, if it can be spread by bodies. Four hours for spreading via a living host is even less time. 

Barrett points out this means the base is safe; the vault door was closed last night. Dr. Hoffman then reveals a new danger: "It is only three weeks since Doctor Baxter refined it, and only three days since he communicated its existence to anyone." Another chemical weapon, an airborne virus, but unlike botulinus, this one is "self-perpetuating, indestructible," and may last forever. "To this virus," he says, "we have given a highly unscientific name, but one which describes it perfectly: The Satan Bug."

Hoffman continues: "If I took the flask that contained it and exposed it to the air, everyone here would be dead in a few seconds. California would be a tomb in a few hours. In a week, all life, and I mean all life, would cease in the United States. In two months, two months at the most, the trapper in Alaska, the peasant from the Yangtze, the aborigine in Australia–dead. All dead, because I crushed the flask, and exposed a green-colored liquid to the air."

Barret holding the Satan Bug flask while standing in a river.
This must be some newfangled definition of "green" with which I am unfamiliar. But you can still tell it's worse than the other flasks of deadly disease, because the cap is red.

Satan Must Be Anti-Science

At this point, I questioned Dr. Hoffman's medical credentials, because the idea of an airborne virus that would kill all eighteen million people in California in hours is ridiculous. It really doesn't matter how deadly the disease is, nor how resilient: the air just doesn't move that fast.

California spans over a thousand miles from north to south. At five hours–a reasonable estimate of "a few"–the bug would need to travel at 200 mph to cover the state. I don't know where my readers reside, but I assure you: California is not normally wracked by 200-mile-an-hour winds. Perhaps he means "if it started in the middle." In which case, we only need 100 mph winds, which are also exceedingly rare. Or we could say that 20 hours is "a few," but still short enough from a day that he wouldn't use that. To cover 500 miles in 20 hours, the bug needs to travel at 25 mph. Certainly we get winds that fast… but not constantly, and not covering the full length of the state.

Moving on to his claim about a week to cover the entire United States: 2800 miles wide, 168 hours: 16.666 miles per hour. (AHA! There's our Satan reference!) But the wind does not consistently blow at that speed, nor do breezes from one area reach every other part of the country.  Winds from the California coast reach Oklahoma and New York, sometimes quickly – but they hardly get to Montana at all.

Jet stream picture from Palm Sunday, 1965
The Jetstream on April 11, showing the cause of one of the worst tornado incidents in history: 12 tornadoes touched down in 4 hours; over 50 people were killed and several hundred injured.

Danger! Action! Gunshots! (but no blood)

Having established the extreme danger, our hero Barrett (you know he's the hero; he's younger and better-looking than all the other men in the movie) volunteers to go into the lab to find if there's a spill. He makes sure the other men are armed and ready to shoot him if he is exposed. How they're going to kill him and close the glass doors if the disease kills "in seconds," I don't know. But it doesn't matter, because of course the disease has not been spilled in the lab; it's been stolen. They identify the mastermind behind the theft as a Mr. Ainsley, a mysterious wealthy man who vanished several months ago.

Thus begins the chase-and-action portion of the film: tracking down leads, car chases, abductions, and a hint of romance. (An old friend of Barrett's shows up; she sometimes has a useful suggestion, but mostly serves to give him someone to explain what he's figured out.) One flask of botulinus is rigged with a bomb, somewhere in Los Angeles. The men assigned to help Barrett mostly die, because he is faster, smarter, and luckier than they are. Ainsley's goons assigned to kill Barrett mostly die, for the same reasons. The red-topped flask changes hands a few times, but every time Barrett or his allies get it, the villains quickly recover it.


How to search a baseball stadium for a bomb: assign one cop per row and have them walk through the seats. Also, you check the results by yelling, because nobody carries a radio on a search.

At one point, Barrett, his girlfriend, and a couple of lawmen are captured. I have no idea why they're not all immediately killed–the goal is to release a virus that kills thousands nearly instantly with the threat of killing millions as leverage… why would they hesitate at killing a small handful of people who might escape to undermine their plans? You'd think that an evil mastermind would find less squeamish goons.

Does Everyone Die?

As one might expect, the plans are foiled. Ainsley is revealed to be Someone We've Known All Along, and there is an energetic fight scene for control of the deadly flask. This takes place in an out-of-control helicopter, with both people and the flask at risk of falling over Los Angeles. Our hero prevails! (I hope I haven't spoiled the ending for you, but he really is just too pretty to die by an evil plot.) Of course he knows how to fly a helicopter (he admits he's "a little rusty") so, he heads off to LAX to be reunited with his team.

Autopsy Report

In the end, while there's nothing particularly wrong with this film, there's nothing outstanding about it either. The science at its core is deeply flawed, reduced to being a plot gimmick instead of anything an educated person could believe possible. The cast is: one handsome hero; one good-looking ladyfriend; a swarm of distinguished white guys in suits (the cops/federal agents); a swarm of somewhat-ugly white guys in casual clothes (the goons); a sparse handful of non-white people who mention a few details and then vanish; one villain who's pretending to be one of the good guys. None of them is unique or even memorable. The plot is so simple that there's no room for nuance: if the hero succeeds, all is well; if he fails, all human life will be destroyed. 

The poster lies: this is not about "the ultimate evil." There is no evil at all in the "Satan bug" itself; it's a mindless organism with no motivation of any sort. All the evil is in the men trying to use it for gain… and they don't fail due to incompetence or greed. Good triumphs, evil fails–because "good" happens to include the former special ops agent with a law degree who can take over a helicopter in mid-flight and safely land it. This is not a lesson about the folly of evil; it's a lesson that talented, handsome heroes can beat aging, sour-faced villains.

If you enjoy this kind of action-thriller with the barest hint of science fiction, this movie won't disappoint. The acting is good, if a bit emotionless (these are stoic government agents, for the most part); the settings realistic; the action well-paced. But if this is not your normal fare, it won't convince you to seek out similar films.

Three stars out of five.

Our last two Journey shows were a gas!  You can watch the kinescope reruns here).  You don't want to miss the next episode, April 25 at 1PM PDT featuring flautist Acacia Weber as the special musical guest.





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Science Fiction/Fantasy, TV

[April 18, 1965] The Doctor, the King and the Sultan (Doctor Who: The Crusade)

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By Jessica Holmes

Welcome to another serial of Doctor Who. This month, we’ll be taking a trip through history, to the height of the Third Crusade, when Richard I ‘the Lionheart’ of England marched on Jerusalem, bringing him toe-to-toe with An-Nasir Salah ad-Din Yusuf ibn Ayyub (better known as simply ‘Saladin’). It’s the height of the Middle Ages, where the knights are holy, the princesses are beautiful, and the kings are noble and just. But are they really? Come along with me as I trail after the Doctor and his companions, and we’ll sort the fact from the fiction, and perhaps squeeze an adventure in along the way.

THE LION

The TARDIS arrives in the forest, a peaceful place one might think. However, some knights come walking by, and they’re being watched by a pair of fellows who would appear to be Saracens.

Well, they would if they weren’t being portrayed by White actors in makeup. Not even thirty seconds into the serial, and I have to put the brakes on to call attention to a serious issue. I have touched upon this issue before, when covering Marco Polo with its extensive use of yellowface makeup. It would seem that Doctor Who has not learned from its past error. I am disappointed, but I am not surprised. After all, it’s not as if the BBC is stranger to deeply racially insensitive programming. Just look at The Black And White Minstrel Show. Or, better yet, don’t.

How am I to have any faith that the story will do justice to this complex and layered period of history, and the people involved, if it is not built on an authentic foundation?

With a sour taste in my mouth, I’ll press on.

The knights are in the party of King Richard I (played by Julian Glover), who is encamped in the forests outside the city of Jaffa, much to the consternation of his men. After all, it’s the perfect spot for an ambush.

Enter the Doctor and crew, who barely take two steps outside the TARDIS before getting into a fight with a Saracen. Working together, the Doctor and Ian manage to subdue their attacker, but realise too late that Barbara has been abducted.

Things are even worse for Richard and his knights. This is indeed the perfect spot for an ambush. As the Crusaders drop like flies, King Richard takes a wound, and one of his knights bravely steps up and declares himself to be the king, allowing himself to be captured in Richard’s stead.

Having survived the battle, the companions gather together, and piece together approximately when and where they are. Upon realising King Richard is close by, the Doctor is eager to get into his favour. Fortunately, one of his knights survived the battle, albeit wounded. Surely Richard will be pleased to see him.

Barbara arrives at the Saracen camp in Ramla, where she meets the knight we saw pretend to be the King, name of Sir William des Preaux, who confides in her the ruse he’s pulling on the Saracens, and they decide to pass her off as his sister, Joanna.

The man who captured her, the scarred El-Akir (portrayed by Walter Randall, who you may recognise as Tonila in The Aztecs) comes and asks if they’re satisfied with their treatment, as Saladin has ordered that captives be treated well. That’s nice of him. It’s also true, as he was known for his mercy to enemy soldiers and civilians.

However, William attempts to tell El-Akir that Babara has not been treated well enough, but El-Akir cruelly rebuts him, reminding the pair that Barbara has no rights but those which Saladin grants. Well, why did you bother asking if you’re going to reject anything other than a glowing review?

I can’t help but notice that all the speaking Saracen roles so far are filled by White actors in makeup, but the background extras are not.

There’s a subplot about the Doctor doing a bit of shoplifting to get clothes so they can blend in, but it’s not essential to the story, so I will leave it at this: he shoplifts, later gets caught out, and manages to talk his way out of the consequences because the goods were stolen anyway.

El-Akir tells Saladin (portrayed by Bernard Kay, who also played Tyler in The Dalek Invasion Of Earth) that he’s successfully captured King Richard himself, along with his beautiful sister. However, Saladin's brother, Saphadin, instantly spots the deceit, realising that Barbara, lovely as she is, is not the Lionheart’s sister.

As things begin to kick off, Saladin pipes up that Sir William isn’t King Richard, either. I suppose Sir William didn’t consider that perhaps a clever man like Saladin might take the time to find out what his enemy looks like.

He orders that Sir William still be treated well, and the others leave, leaving Barbara alone with Saladin and his brother while they decide what to do with her. He asks how she came to be here, and Barbara explains as best as she can, being remarkably frank about her travels through time and space.

Saladin assumes that she means she’s with a group of players, entertainers– in other words, not useful. However, he’s not one to casually kill someone if there’s a chance he could make use of them. He invites her to dinner, where she’ll step into the shoes of Scheherazade. If she can entertain him, she gets to live.

Back in Jaffa, the rest of the gang bring the wounded knight to King Richard and report their doings.

Richard isn’t having a good time of it. Half his men are dead, and the other half are filling the streets of Jaffa with their vices. Oh, and to cap it all off, his brother back home, Prince John, has developed a taste for power. It’s all very dramatic and Shakespearean, and as adept at monologuing as Richard is, Ian doesn’t have the patience for it, and keeps asking him for help recovering Barbara.

However, stung from the loss of his men, Richard refuses to try trading with Saladin. Can the companions convince the King to see reason, or will Barbara and Sir William be left to the mercy of the Sultan?

Well, aside from the issues I brought up, this is a good start to the serial. We’ve got some excitement, some intrigue, and questionable casting choices aside, Saladin does seem so far to be given his due as a merciful opponent with a strategic mind. I also love Ian standing up to the King and breaking through his little tantrum. On we go!

THE KNIGHT OF JAFFA

My television reception was a bit spotty whilst watching this, so I apologise if I've missed anything significant.

The knight the gang rescued intercedes on their behalf, pointing that they have a great opportunity to make Saladin look foolish, thus boosting morale.

King Richard agrees, as the real Joanna arrives. Here commences a subplot which doesn’t really go anywhere, in which the Doctor passes Vicki off as his young male ward, Victor.

Richard laments that he misses England, which is funny considering that he spent the majority of his adult life everywhere but England, and quite likely didn’t speak English. To be fair to him, the weather is terrible.

Elsewhere, El-Akir attempts to coerce a woman to give him information on Barbara. When he fails, he enlists a Genoese merchant, Luigi, to aid him in abducting her.

Barbara talks to her maid, Sheyrah, as she prepares to perform for Saladin. Sheyrah is the woman El-Akir was threatening before, and she warns Barbara of the danger he poses.

As Barbara thinks about what stories she can tell to entertain Saladin, the merchant arrives, offering her an escape. She takes the bait and leaves with him, but in their haste Luigi accidentally leaves his glove behind for Sheyrah to find.

Elsewhere, Richard’s changed his mind about dealing with Saladin. In fact, he goes as far in the opposite direction as he can, offering up Joanna as a bride to Saphadin in exchange for peace.

It's a dramatic change of heart, to say the least.

Richard charges Ian to be his delivery boy, but because he can't just send some no-name peasant to deliver a royal message, he bids Ian kneel and dubs him the Knight of Jaffa on the spot.

I hope he doesn't start putting on airs and graces.

Luigi gets a meeting with Saladin, having done El-Akir’s bidding. However, the meeting doesn't last long, as Saladin has learned that his Scheherezade has vanished into the ether, and calls Sir William and Sheyrah in to find out what happened to her.

The gig's up for Luigi when Sheyrah shows Saladin the glove she found, and he recognises the matching glove hanging from Luigi's belt. Under duress, Luigi admits that he delivered Barbara to El-Akir.

In Jaffa, Ian makes his departure, and far away in the town of Lydda, Barbara arrives at El-Akir's palace. Before she can be ushered into the lion's den, she makes a break for it, leaving the guards in the dust.

Ian arrives at Ramla to learn the bad news from Sir William. Luigi has spun a tale of Barbara having eloped with El-Akir, which the Sultan and his brother accepted, although Sir William can see straight through it.

Ian decides he must go into his territory and rescue Barbara, despite El-Akir's wicked reputation.

Barbara flees through the streets of Lydda. It's a nice little set, with plenty of detail, evoking the atmosphere of a narrow street in the Middle East, quiet for now, but surely bustling and full of life in the daylight hours.

However, she can't avoid the guards forever.

Before they can grab her, however, a hand emerges from the dark and grabs Barbara's mouth, dragging her into the darkness. Is she saved, or is she doomed?

THE WHEEL OF FORTUNE

The stranger beckons Barbara to come with him, and hides her, before subduing the guards. He introduces himself as Haroun, and they have a common enemy in El-Akir, for the Emir stole one of Haroun’s daughters for his harem, and put Haroun’s wife and son to the sword.

Back at Jaffa, Joanna learns of the Vicki/Victor ruse, and puts an end to it, taking the young woman under her wing. In return, she ropes the Doctor into finding out what plans the king has for her.

However, Vicki isn’t too happy about having to go off with this stranger. The Doctor reassures her that it’s only for her safety, to keep her out of the way of any court intrigue. It’s a sweet moment, but I do wonder how old Vicki is supposed to be. Even if she’s meant to be around Susan’s age, the dynamic is still a bit weird, as the Doctor seems to treat her as if she’s a little girl. Is he overcompensating?

Haroun takes Barbara to his home, where she meets his remaining daughter, Safiya. He goes back out to scout around, giving Barbara a knife as he departs. It’s not for self-defence; if the soldiers come to capture them, she’s to kill Safiya and then herself. Better that than end up at the mercy of El-Akir.

Goodness.

Well, that turned rather dark, didn’t it?

Back with Richard, he’s holding a meeting, and tells everyone (well, the important men anyway) of his intentions to marry Joanna off to Saphadin and end the war. The Doctor asks if he’s run this by Joanna, but silly Doctor, women don’t get to decide who they marry! Besides, she’ll be saving thousands of men’s lives with her sacrifice, so who cares if she likes the bloke or not?

The lord of Leicester isn’t too happy with the plan either, though the non-consensual marriage part doesn’t bother him. No, the problem with the plan is that it’s just not violent enough. He insists that they must take Jerusalem by the sword.

Leicester says it’s all well and good for the Doctor with all his clever words, but when all the eloquent men have gone to bed it’s up to the soldiers to actually put their money where their mouths are. And he has a point there, I’d say, but the Doctor calls him a fool, prompting Leicester to draw steel, though Richard intervenes before things can get out of hand.

Saladin receives the offer, seeming faintly amused by it. Saphadin is quite enthusiastic about the whole idea. A beautiful princess and an alliance giving him power over the kingdom of the Franks? Ring the wedding bells! And with him being staunchly loyal to his brother’s interests, any influence he gained would be Saladin’s, also.

Saladin agrees to let it go ahead, but he’s suspicious of the offer, knowing it’s a last appeal from a weary man. Seeing how delicate the situation has become, he decides to both agree to the match and prepare his armies, should the worst come to pass.

In Haroun’s house, Barbara and Safiya hear the soldiers coming, and hide themselves away. When the soldiers decide to raze the house and smoke them out, Barbara’s faced with the choice: does she use the knife? Well, this is a family show, so Barbara gives the knife to Safiya and attempts to sneak out of the house alone. The soldiers catch her, but at least Safiya is safe.

Outside the city, Ian runs into some bandits, who knock him out cold.

In Jaffa, the Doctor finds himself in the middle of some court intrigue. He can’t risk angering Richard by breaching his confidence, but he also can’t make an enemy of the princess by keeping secrets from her. However, Joanna knows he’s keeping something from her, and after prying the truth from Leicester, she furiously confronts her brother.

Turns out women don’t much appreciate it when men try to marry them off against their will. It’s even worse seeing as Saphadin is, from her perspective, an infidel, and the religious animosity at the heart of this war burns strongly in Joanna. If her brother won’t accept her refusal, she’ll be more than happy to drag the Pope into the matter, and he surely won’t allow it.

In Lydda, El-Akir has Barbara dragged before him, and he has a dire threat for her. The only pleasure left for her is death, and that, he assures her, is very far away.

THE WARLORDS

My television set started misbehaving again, so I’m going to blame any oversights in the review on that.

Barbara remains in the Emir’s clutches for all of about ten seconds before escaping him through the ingenious means of knocking some coins out of his hands and then running out the door.

He really should fire his soldiers.

The men race after her and into the harem, where they’re told in no uncertain terms to get lost, as men (apart from the Emir) are forbidden to enter. El-Akir promises a ruby ring for anyone who sees Barbara and reports it to him.

Once he leaves, the women beckon Barbara to come out of her hiding place. Got to love a bit of female solidarity.

Out in the desert, Ian’s made the acquaintance of a nice chap called Ibrahim, by which I mean Ibrahim has him tied to the ground and dripping with honey. No, you didn’t read that last bit wrong. Ibrahim wants to know where Ian is hiding his money, so has smeared his wrists and chest with honey, and made a trail to the nearby ant nest. Once they get a taste of that honey, they just won’t stop. Well, it’s creative, I’ll give him that. It’s essentially scaphism, an ancient punishment which is very interesting but best not read about before lunch.

Back in Jaffa, Richard comes to terms with the fact that he will have to fight. For the Doctor’s part, he’s made an enemy of Leicester, and had better take his leave.

Before going, the Doctor asks if Richard thinks he really could hold Jerusalem if he managed to capture it. Richard’s not sure of it himself, but would be content to just see it. Of course, we know that Richard doesn’t win.

In the harem, Barbara meets Safiya’s sister, Maimuna, who is overjoyed to learn that her father and Safiya are alive.

In the desert, with the ants encroaching on him, Ian tells Ibrahim to look for the gold in his boot. Ibrahim, apparently not a smart man, unties Ian’s foot to get to the boot. Finding it empty, he unties the other. Guess what happens next.

This time, Ian succeeds in overpowering Ibrahim and has the bandit take him to Lydda.

In the harem, Barbara discusses a possible route of escape with Maimuna. However, once they leave, one of the other women, Fatima, slips out and goes straight to El-Akir.

Outside the palace, Haroun has recovered his faculties and lurks knife at the ready.

Ian and Ibrahim arrive in Lydda, and Ian steals some clothes from a dead guard. He was already dead when Ian found him, so that’s okay.

He’s found an unlikely ally in Ibrahim, who has as much reason as anyone else to hate El-Akir. The Emir’s a bad man, even by the bandit's standards, and worse still, he’s made everyone poor, so there’s nobody left for him to rob. Ian puts him to good use ‘acquiring’ some horses.

In the harem, the women realise Fatima has betrayed them as El-Akir bursts in, ready to slay Maimuna and Barbara where they stand. Then thwack! A knife hits him in the back, and he drops. Over his body steps Haroun, here to save his daughter.

Fatima arrives late to the party, horrified to find El-Akir dead. Behind her arrives Ian, because apparently the guards at this palace are there for decoration.

All’s well that ends well, and Ian, Haroun, Barbara and Maimuna depart, leaving Fatima to face the justice of the women she betrayed.

Outside Jaffa, the Doctor and Vicki realise that Leicester’s knights are lying in wait for them, thinking them traitors. The Doctor helps Vicki sneak back to the TARDIS, where she meets Barbara, but the Doctor falls into the knights' clutches.

Before the serial can come to a grisly end, Sir Ian, Knight of Jaffa rides up, confirming that the Doctor is indeed a Saracen spy. The Doctor plays along, and Ian escorts him for one last look at Jaffa… and then safely into the TARDIS, where the other knights can’t see them smirk.

When the ship vanishes before their very eyes, they mourn for Ian, spirited away by fiends, and swear never to speak of this matter again.

Back in the TARDIS, the Doctor and Barbara have a little banter about his piloting skills, and it seems all is well… for about ten seconds, before the shining control room plunges into darkness.

What happens then? Well, we’ll have to wait and see…

Final Thoughts

This is rather a dark serial for Doctor Who, quite serious in tone and subject matter, with the sword of Damocles perpetually hanging over the head of every character.

I very much enjoyed Glover’s King Richard, even if he did wax a little Shakesperean from time to time. However, I’m not sure how true to the character of the actual King Richard this portrayal is. The Richard of The Crusade is a war-weary man, missing England and wishing for an end to all the fighting and a chance to hang up his sword.

The real Richard, on the other hand, although revered in his time as a great knight and viewed by his subjects as a heroic and pious king, was also known for his cruelty both before his reign and during it. The passing centuries have been kind to Richard, transforming him into the quintessential knight in shining armour, a true king on a holy mission, juxtaposed with his brother, the wicked Prince John, beloved by nobody and vilified by all.

Saladin, for his part, seems to be treated quite fairly. He is noted for his mercy and intelligence, which are on display here, though his merciful acts do seem to be framed as more tactical than altruistic. Of course, there is the issue of his physical portrayal, as I mentioned at some length above. It is a recurring issue with historical episodes, as there have been a number of occasions where there was a lack of an attempt at authentic casting. For example, we have this serial, as well as The Aztecs, and perhaps most egregiously in Marco Polo. I feel it would genuinely strengthen the episodes and their credibility if there was more of a push towards authenticity in casting, and not just in set and costume design.

On a side note, it just clicked with me that the Doctor didn’t meet Saladin face to face. That’s a pity, as I think they’d be very interesting together. I think they’d get along… mostly.

Joanna, recorded as simply Joan in the historical record, was indeed offered as a bargaining chip to Saladin’s brother, though it would seem that high-ranking priests vetoed the match without her involvement. Also, I am not certain that she was ever at Jaffa with Richard.

El-Akir seemed at first to be a little too villainous, being only one kicked kitten away from turning into a cartoon villain. As far as I can tell, he’s not real, and if he’s based in part on any real historical characters, I couldn’t tell you who. However, upon reflection, I think he’s one of the more menacing villains to appear on Doctor Who. As with the Daleks, it’s because he’s 'real'. Yes, it’s a contradiction. The character himself may not have really walked the Earth, but thousands upon thousands have followed in his footsteps all the same.

At risk of this review turning into a historical essay (of questionable accuracy), I think that I had better arrive at some sort of conclusion.

The Crusade is a tightly-written and exciting story, with excellent character work (if we set strict historical accuracy to one side) and a high production value. It raises some interesting points about the cost of war and what actions are acceptable in the name of peace. Were I educated in philosophy, I could have a field day examining it from every which way. It’s also a significant improvement from writer David Whitaker, who previously gave us The Edge Of Destruction (still my least favourite serial) and The Rescue (decent, but fairly forgettable to be honest).

At any rate, it inspired me to read up on the Third Crusade and take steps towards educating myself about this period. If it worked for me, it will have worked for goodness knows how many kids, some of whom are sure to fall down the rabbit-hole into a lifelong love of history. And in the end, isn’t that the important thing?

4 out of 5 stars

Don't miss the next episode of The Journey Show, this time featuring flautist Acacia Weber…and, of course, your Q&A about life in April 1965!




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Science Fiction/Fantasy

[Apr. 16, 1965] The Second Sex in SFF, Part VIII

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by Gideon Marcus

It's been almost two years since the last edition of ourThe Second Sex in SFF series came out.  In that time, women have only gotten more underrepresented in our genre.  Nevertheless, new women authors continue to arrive on the scene, and some who produced under gender-ambiguous names have become known to me:

Hilary Bailey

Bailey, a British writer whose name does not immediately bespeak a woman writer, marched onto the scene in 1963 with her laudable social satire story, Breakdown, in New Worlds, followed by her stand-out novella, The Fall of Frenchy Steiner, the following year in the same magazine.

She is one of the very few women to appear in British science fiction magazines.  She has also been married, since 1962, to fellow SF writer, Michael Moorcock, who is now editor of New Worlds.

J. Hunter Holly

Though the SF career of Michiganian J. Hunter Holly began in 1959 with the novel, Encounter, she did not get included in prior installments of this series for two reasons.  Firstly, I was not aware that Holly was a woman until a fellow fan noted that the author's real name is Joan Carol Holly.  Secondly, like Andre Norton (another woman author with a male pseudonym) Holly doesn't do magazine fiction.  Indeed, it wasn't until the aforementioned fan sent me a C.A.R.E. package of Holly books that I realized she's already had quite a career in the genre!

I've only reviewed her most recent book, The Time Twisters.  It's a flawed piece, plot-wise, but Holly's quite a good writer.  I'll have to finish her back catalog in my copious spare time — and I look forward to her next release!

A.M. Lightner

Alice Martha Lightner Hopf is another author whose gender disappears behind initials.  She tends to be a children's writer: two of her first three short stories appeared in Boy's Life and her first three novels are also aimed at younger audiences.  She also has written a nonfiction book called Monarch Butterflies under the name of Alice Hopf. 

But I know of her because her short story, A Good Day for the Irish, which appeared five years ago in IF.  A fair story, it stood out for being one of the very few that featured a female protagonist.

I'm keen to see if Lightner Hopf will return to the mature mags, or if she's found her niche just beyond my usual ken.  Either way, I wish her success!

Florence Engel Randall

Some authors erupt onto the scene with a bang.  We saw it with Ursula K. LeGuin in 1962 with her debut, April in Paris in Fantastic.  Similarly, New Yorker Randall knocked it out of the park with her first two stories, One Long Ribbon and The Barrier Beyond.  Like LeGuin, her first was published in 1962, and both stories came out in Fantastic — until recently, a magazine helmed by the only woman editor, Cele Lalli (ne Goldsmith). 

Jane Beauclerk

Some authors become associated with a particular series.  Jane Beauclerk, who has appeared twice in F&SF, is likely to be remembered for her Lord Moon stories. These are almost fairy-tale pieces that take place on an unnamed planet at the edge of a Terran empire.

Juanita Coulson

Last but not least is Juanita Coulson.  At first glance, Ms. Coulson has no published short stories or novels in any genre.  So why does she get included here?

Firstly, she is one of fandom's brightest lights, producing the fanzine Yandro with her husband, Robert, since 1953.  The 'zine has been on the Hugo ballot since 1957, and I suspect it's got a good chance at the rocketship this year.  Moreover, it turns out she does have at least a partial story credit: Another Rib is a four-star story that came out in F&SF in 1963.  Though it was published under the byline of "John Jay Wells" (and apparently co-written with the now persona non grata Marion Zimmer Bradley), I have since confirmed that Wells is actually Coulson.

Will "Wells" return?  Will Coulson flower in the pro arena under her own name?  Will Yandro finally win the Hugo this year?  Only time will tell…

——

When I began this list, we were in medias res with the careers of most of the women writing science fiction.  Now that we are covering new authors, it's impossible to tell which of those profiled will end up brilliant genre lights and which will simply fade away after a brief, bright career.  In addition to introducing recent writers in this series, future editions will cover dramatic changes in the careers of previously profiled authors.

I look forward to the day that women make up more than 10% (at best!) of the content printed in science fiction magazines.  Until then, it's important to remember that there are still dozens of women producing some of our best stories.  I hope this series helps bring that fact into public consciousness.

[If you're looking for more great science fiction by women, Rediscovery: Science Fiction by Women (1958-1963) contains 14 of the best stories of the Silver Age.

Pick up a copy!  It'll support your local bookstore.




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Book, Science Fiction/Fantasy

[April 14, 1965] Furious Time Travel (April Galactoscope)

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This month's Galactoscope features a triplet of tales, all of which have something to recommend them…

The Fury Out of Time , by Lloyd Biggle Jr.


By Jason Sacks

The Fury Out of Time is an fun page turner, with some clever ideas and some wacky plot machinations. It's a delight to read author Lloyd Biggle, Jr. playfully juggle interesting ideas around time paradoxes, odd alien creatures and the Mesozoic era while keeping his story roaring and skidding through the clouds like a runaway UFO.

The book focuses on Bowden Karvel, a retired Air Force Major,  discharged from the astronaut corps because of his artificial leg and organically confrontational attitude. Karvel lives just outside the gates of his former Air Force Base, quietly drinking and marking time. One day Karvel wanders down to Whistler’s Country Tavern to bend his elbow. As Karvel is sitting on the tavern patio looking over the nearby valley, something very strange happens. Trees start being knocked down in a widening spiral and Karvel is mildly injured in what feels like a natural disaster but actually is far from that simple idea.

Taking on efforts to lead the recovery effort after this apparent hurricane hits, Karvel begins barking out orders, and finds himself becoming inexorably dragged into a mystery which will take him to the moon and across tens of thousands of years of history. He will literally become a new version of himself, emotionally, physically and spiritually, will encounter creatures he scarcely could have imagined existing, and will uncover the mystery which knocked him off his feet in the first place. By being knocked off his feet, Bowden Karvel eventually finds himself able to truly stand on his own two feet once again.

The cause of the disaster is a flying saucer, which Biggle cleverly calls a UO (as opposed to a UFO), which readers slowly learn was created by time travelers from the future – though those travelers may actually be from the past. It’s complicated, and we get to learn how complicated as we dig further into this wacky book.

Part of the fun of this novel comes from Biggle’s clever depictions of different societies in this book. It seems obvious that the author served in the military based on his humorous depictions of the crazily dysfunctional Air Force leadership. Biggle's strong imagination is also on display in the future world in which the bodies of mankind's descendants have evolved in clever ways. In that future world, people are taller and balder than people today, have flatter feet and they even an odd fetish about beards, of all things. I enjoyed Karvel’s inner monologues about that world, and how he wonders about standards of beauty and enslavement.

Similarly, when Karvel travels to a past era when dinosaurs walk the earth, he encounters a race of Hras,  very strange creatures with six arms, no faces and stomachs in their bellies. These creatures become Karvel’s allies, but their relationship is complicated. That relationship is surprisingly three-dimensional compared with the classic imperialist-styled science fiction of the past.  The way Biggle depicts the relationship between Karvel and the Hras, it’s not clear who the wiser hero is – the one who charges into the middle of a group of dinosaurs or the one who’s too scared to journey far into a world full of predators.

Since we see everything through Karvel’s eyes, I suppose it’s a little wrongheaded to complain the book feels a bit shallow at times. There’s a decided focus on action, and it’s fun to see a middle-aged, slightly disabled guy at the center of trying to figure out the strange worlds in which he finds himself. The thing is, Karvel is smart and clever. He’s not a headstrong James Bond type, always ready for action. He’s an older, slightly broken man who constantly finds his basic value system challenged by the strange circumstances in which he finds himself. It's in the way Karvel reacts that we readers see ourselves and which ultimately pushes this novel ahead.

I didn’t expect to enjoy this book as much as I did. I wasn’t familiar with Biggle's work and was concerned that a book with a UFO at its center would be full of clichés. Instead this book was a light, breezy, and fun ride, a delightful little book which moves along like the Road Runner.

Three stars.

A Man of Double Deed, by Leonard Daventry


by Gideon Marcus

A fringe benefit of having so many fellow writers on the Journey is the ability to read more of the science fiction that's coming out every month.  Contrary to forlorn declarations of the doom-sayers, the genre is far from dead.  Moreover, new authors are coming into SF all the time.

To wit, Leonard Daventry has just released his first book, A Man of Double Deed, and it's surprisingly mature for a first effort. 

Here is the plot, in brief:

Claus Coman is a "keyman," part of a network of powerful telepaths living on Earth in the year 2090.  In this far-future time, humanity has already had and recovered from an atomic conflagration that left the planet in ruins.  We have spread among the stars, meeting several alien races, though they do not figure in this story.  What does figure is a burgeoning plague of violence spreading among the young and disaffected populace.  Whether it is a genuine biological malaise or simply a reaction to a society that has become too staid to endure is not known.  Coman supports a proposal to emigrate these malcontents to a new world, one where they can create a society to their liking.

But there are forces that strongly oppose this proposal, and keymen in general.  Forces with murderous intent.  Coman must navigate attempts on his life as well as bigger political currents to see the proposal through.

What makes Deed so distinctive is its unique vision of the future.  It's definitely a "New Wave" book with unorthodox depictions of romance and sexuality.  In the future, "free love" is the norm, and committed relationships viewed as quaint aberrations.  Coman's polyamory, involving two women, is particularly deviant.  On the other hand, same-sex pairings are not so much as blinked at. 

Daventry does an excellent job of incorporating the third-person omniscient viewpoint, subtly sliding into many characters' minds.  This is a trick that doesn't usually work, particularly in Frank Herbert's Dune, where it simply comes off as amateurish.  But it's effective in Deed, suggestive of the telepathic contact Comay has with everyone he interacts with.  I also appreciate how Daventry describes in a sentence or two scenes of violence and/or sexual relations, conveying a subject vividly but not luridly, effectively invoking the reader's imagination.

Deed is by no means a perfect book.  It starts well but loses steam in the final third.  Worse, it doesn't really have an ending; the plot is left open only halfway through its course.  On a more personal note, as progressive as some aspects of the depicted future may be, it still seems a highly male-dominated world.  Women are definitely in a second class, both in their agency, and screen-time.  Part of that seems intentional, underscoring the conservative nature of 2090's Earth, but part of it also seems to be the result of Daventry's own instincts. 

On the other hand, if Deed be part of a series, like Delany's Toron trilogy, then I may have to revise my opinion.  For the nonce, I give it three and a half stars.

And here's a special entry submitted by a fan of the Journey.  The book dates back to 1959, but I understand it has been recently reprinted.  Since the Journey did not cover it upon first release, we are remedying this omission…

Ossian's Ride, by Fred Hoyle


by Chuck Litka

I happened on Ossian's Ride in the drug store’s spinning book rack. I will occasionally find a science fiction book there, but Neldner’s Card Shop in the Point Loomis shopping center is my go to place for the latest sf books from Ace, Pyramid, Ballantine, and Berkley. The cover of Ossian's Ride showed a hand with an open pocket watch. Inside the watch is a rather artsy illustration of a fellow about to throw a flaming molotov cocktail at a cottage with two silhouettes in the window. And oh, yes, there appears to be a body at his feet. In fact, the only science fiction thing about the cover, is “Fred Hoyle the author of A For Andromeda.” Still, having read his The Black Cloud, I picked it up to see what this one was about.

The back blurb read:

“…breathtaking in its suspense… romantic adventure in the true grand manner”
– New York Herald Tribune

The time is 1970. Thomas Sherwood, a young Cambridge scientist, is recruited by British Intelligence to go to western Ireland to learn the origin, nature, and purpose of I.C.E., the mysterious and powerful Industrial Corporation of Eire. I.C.E., hidden behind its own Iron Curtain, is an elite industrial complex that in only ten years has solved many of the major scientific problems the rest of the world is still grappling with. The great nations fear I.C.E. as a menace to the delicate balance of world power and must discover whatever they can about it. Sherwood is immediately caught up in a world of desperate violence among spies and counterspies, the pursued and the pursuing. So, should I gamble 50¢ on Ossian's Ride? Now, 50¢ is not an insignificant amount of cash when living on a three figure allowance – counting both sides of the decimal place. 1970 is only five years from now, and there didn’t seem to be a lot of science fiction in the description either. Still, it’s Fred Hoyle. Oh, why not?

Ride is interestingly framed, beginning with the British prime minister, who has Thomas Sherwood’s report on his desk. It appears that Sherwood reached the heart of the mystery, but then defected to I.C.E. And yet, he has sent this report that purports to reveal the deepest secret of I.C.E. The P.M. wonders if he should believe it. Well, we can read Sherwood’s report for ourselves, and draw our own conclusions. The story then becomes the first person narrative of the amateur secret agent, Thomas Sherwood. With a forged visa, he sets out for Ireland posing as a student on a holiday with £15 (all that a real student on a holiday would carry), a rucksack and some books. Things don’t go well right from the start. But Sherwood is a resourceful fellow, with a streak of James Bond in his makeup, so we are treated to a nonstop series of mysteries, murders, captures, and escapes across a countryside overrun with ruthless agents of all sorts. Against all odds, and with an unwavering determination to get to the heart of the mystery, Sherwood works himself into I.C.E. And once inside, into its secret heart. Only to joint them, as we knew from page one. Having read his full report, do you believe him? Do you blame him?

I wasn’t disappointed with the book — well worth my two quarters. Perhaps what I liked most about the story is its air of being an authentic true life adventure. It feels like it was written by someone who has put on a rucksack and tramped the Irish countryside himself. And because of that, it remained believable despite the rush of life and death adventures that fill its 182 pages. Like the book’s cover, there is not, however, a lot of science fiction in Ossian's Ride. Five pages worth, maybe. And I have to say that the ending left me with questions, questions that could have been more satisfactorily answered with another page or two. Still, all in all, it was an exhilarating ride. And since I read science fiction more for adventure than as explorations of a future world shaped by some marvelous scientific invention, I would rate Ossian's Ride 4 stars.

That's all for today, folks! Join us next month for another exciting Galactoscope!




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Magazine, Science Fiction/Fantasy, Serial

[April 12, 1965] Not Long Before the End (May 1965 Amazing)

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by John Boston

Still Bleeding

Another month, another civil rights murder.  Viola Liuzzo lived in Detroit and participated in civil rights activities there.  Horrified by the carnage of the “Bloody Sunday” attack on civil rights marchers on March 7, she went to Alabama, where the Southern Christian Leadership Conference put her to work on administrative and logistical tasks, including driving volunteers and marchers from place to place as needed.

On March 25, Liuzzo drove some marchers and volunteers from Montgomery back to Selma.  On her way back to Montgomery, with a Negro associate in the car, she was passed by a car full of Ku Klux Klansmen, who fatally shot her in the head.

This murder was well publicized, even in remote places like my small town in Kentucky, where it was briefly a major subject of conversation.  The consensus: “She should have stayed home with her kids.” The notion that Americans should be able to travel safely in America and that people shouldn't murder other people seems somehow to have been forgotten.

Of course she was not the only one killed by the anti-civil rights forces, though her killing received more publicity than most.  The Rev. James Reeb, a Unitarian minister from Boston, was beaten with clubs by segregationists on March 9 and died of his injuries in a hospital.  In February, Jimmie Lee Jackson was beaten and shot by state troopers who attacked civil rights marchers and then pursued marchers who took refuge from the violence in a cafe.  His death prompted the Selma-Montgomery march.

Looks like there’s a long way to go.

The Issue at Hand


by Gray Morrow

The end is much nearer for the departing regime at Amazing.  This next to last Ziff-Davis issue is fronted by one of the more ill-considered covers to appear on the magazine.  It features what looks like a theatrical mask, with several items of disconnected clockwork behind it, against a sort of green starscape.  Well, the colors are nice.  It illustrates or represents in some fashion Poul Anderson’s two-part serial The Corridors of Time, which begins in this issue (though there’s no corridor to be seen on the cover; probably just as well).

The Corridors of Time (Part 1 of 2), by Poul Anderson


by Gray Morrow

I will await the end of the Anderson serial before commenting, as is my practice.  A quick look indicates that it is a time war or time policing story, in the general territory of Asimov’s The End of Eternity and Leiber’s The Big Time, not to mention Anderson’s own Time Patrol stories, and the protagonist is dispatched to Northern Europe around 1200 B.C.  More next month.

The Survivor, by Walter F. Moudy


by Virgil Finlay

Walter F. Moudy, who has published a novel but whose first magazine story appeared only last month, contributes the novelet The Survivor, another in the growing genre of future violence-as-entertainment.  That roster includes last month’s lampoon by John Jakes, There’s No Vinism Like Chau-Vinism, a couple of Robert Sheckley stories, Charles V. De Vet’s energetic Special Feature from Astounding in 1958, and no doubt others.  In the future, Moudy proposes, the US and Russia are still antagonists, but now they channel their rivalry into the Olympic War Games: each side puts 100 armed soldiers into an arena 3000 meters long and 1000 meters wide, and they fight it out until one side is eliminated, and the viewers out in TV-land see every drop of blood.

The author alternates between a fairly naturalistic account of the thoughts and experiences of the clueless Private Richard Starbuck as he fights, wonders why he is doing it, is grievously wounded, and nearly dies, and the performances of the commentators and their special guests, which treat the event just like the sporting matches we are all familiar with.  This is 99% of a pretty good story, with the TV commentary close to pitch-perfect, and the effects on the protagonist of immersion in pointless and terrifying violence are well rendered. 

Unfortunately Moudy trips over his feet in the last paragraph with a gross departure from Show Don’t Tell, beating the reader over the head with his message rather than letting events speak (or scream) for themselves. This is the sort of rookie mistake that editors are there to save writers from, and they didn’t.  This provides at least a scintilla of support for the charge by Science Fiction Times that the editors seemed to have lost interest.  Three stars, unfortunately; it was on its way to four.

The Man from Party Ten, by Robert Rohrer

Robert Rohrer embraces cynicism unreservedly in The Man from Party Ten, a characteristically well-turned, quite short story about factional warfare in the ruins of an extraterrestrial Earth colony, as brutal within its shorter compass as Moudy’s longer story, though also more obviously contrived.  Nonetheless, well done.  Three stars.

Over the River and Through the Woods, by Clifford D. Simak

Relief from brutality arrives in the issue’s last story, Clifford D. Simak’s Over the River and Through the Woods, an unassuming small masterpiece.  A couple of strange kids appear at a farmhouse in 1896 and address the older woman working in the kitchen as their grandma.  It is quintessential Simak: Ordinary decent person confronted with the extraordinary responds with ordinary decency.  It’s plainly written without a wasted word, deftly developed, asserting its homely credo with quiet restraint, all in eight pages.  Wish I could do that.  Wish more writers would do that.  Five stars.

Yardsticks in Space, by Ben Bova

This month’s nonfiction piece is Ben Bova’s Yardsticks in Space, about the measurement of stellar distances. It's typical fare from this writer: reasonably interesting material rendered in a fairly humdrum style under a humdrum title.  Perfectly readable but a far cry from the better efforts of Isaac Asimov and Willy Ley.  Two stars.

Summing Up

So, not bad: one excellent story, one that’s quite good until the very end, and one capable story, plus a reasonably promising-looking serial by a prominent if uneven author, and no Robert F. Young or Ensign De Ruyter!  Maybe Goldsmith and Lobsenz will go out on a relatively high note.

We had so much success with our first episode of The Journey Show (you can watch the kinescope rerun; check local listings for details) that we're going to have another one on April 11 at 1PM PDT with The Young Traveler as the special musical guest.  As the kids say, be there or be square!




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