Category Archives: Science Fiction/Fantasy

[December 27th, 1964] No tears, no regrets, no anxieties (Doctor Who: The Dalek Invasion of Earth, Parts 4-6)


By Jessica Holmes

Hello, hello, everyone, I hope you’ve all had a lovely winter holiday. So, let’s recap: The Dalek invasion of Earth is well underway and everything is going wrong. That’s the gist of it. Can the Doctor and company make it right? Let’s see.

THE END OF TOMORROW

Tick tock goes the bomb, counting down the Doctor, Susan and David’s last few minutes. To make matters worse, the Doctor’s still woozy, and he passes out when he’s most needed, so Susan and David have to try and disarm the bomb themselves. David uses some acid from Dortmun’s acid-bomb to get through the casing of the device, melting through it in seconds flat. Once the casing is removed, David manages to remove the activation mechanism. Crisis averted.

Now they’re no longer about to be blown to bits, David takes charge, because…well, he’s the only available bloke, I suppose. Anyway, David decides that the Doctor should hide while he and Susan look for a way out of London.

Meanwhile, Barbara and Jenny are preparing a lorry. Suppose it’s handy they went to a transport museum!

Ian and Larry are on the road, and they spot a bunch of human slaves towing along a cart for the Daleks. Has all the coal run out or something? I know, I’m nitpicking the logistics of the Dalek invasion.

Ian and Larry get spotted by one of the workers, a man called Wells, who manages to cover for them with some quick thinking when a Roboman asks what they’re doing. The Roboman still demands they come with him, and hits Wells. Ian and Larry stop to help, but the Roboman orders them to desist. When they don’t, he says ‘You must obey orders!’ to which Ian snaps back, ‘Get new orders.’

It seems to fry the robo-bloke’s head a bit. He’s still mulling it over as they escape. I don’t know why; perhaps the Robomen just aren’t very bright.

The Roboman eventually gets himself sorted out and comes to apprehend the men, only to be clobbered over the back of the head by Ian for his troubles. Safe for now, Wells tells the men about a smuggler called Ashton who might be able to help them get out of the work camp.

Back in London, Barbara and Jenny are taking their time getting out of the city. Jenny is frustrated that Dortmun would throw his life away just to prove a point. Barbara retorts that he sacrificed himself so they’d have a chance to escape and thwart the Dalek invasion. The Daleks seem to have assumed that Dortmun was alone, so haven’t come poking around. Because apparently the Daleks only have a couple of brain cells between them.

It seems like a bit of a weak justification for killing off the only disabled character, if you ask me. It’s almost as if it was just more convenient to kill him off. No need to keep lugging a wheelchair around. Sorry if I sound a bit cynical, but we wheelchair-users don’t tend to be included in adventures, and when we are? Things like this happen.

Later on Jenny and Barbara’s road trip, they come to a gang of Daleks blocking the road. Does Barbara stop? Try a different route? Nope. Barbara doesn’t even slow down. The Daleks tumble like bowling pins, and there isn’t even a scratch on the lorry! Poor Dortmun. Bloke works for years perfecting acid-bombs that don’t work, and some 20th-century lorry makes scrap of the Daleks.

On the Dalek saucer, they prepare to intercept. Hearing the saucer coming for them, Barbara and Jenny leap from the vehicle, just before a ray from the saucer turns it into a toy lorry which then blows up. Oh. Oh, sorry. Same lorry, bad model. My mistake.

Down in the sewer, Susan and David ran into Tyler, who warns them that the sewers are full of alligators. Yes, alligators.

He decides to lead the two back to the Doctor, and curtly informs Susan that he hasn’t seen Barbara or Ian. Susan laments his apparent lack of caring, and David explains that he resists getting at all close to people, because he’s known too much killing. Or maybe, Susan, he just has a bit more on his mind at the moment than exchanging pleasantries.

David assures Susan that one day the Dalek invasion will be over, and they’ll be able to have a fresh start.

Up in Bedford, Ian and Larry hear an unearthly growl, and we can see… something skulking in the back of the shot. It took me a moment to decide whether or not it was just part of the set. That was until it moved. It slithers away at Ian’s approach, leaving the men none the wiser as to what on Earth they just heard. The men head off, meeting up with Ashton the smuggler, a terribly friendly chap who greets them with a loaded pistol.

Luckily for them, Wells turns up and vouches for the pair. Ashton relents and they sit down to have some food.

Ian asks what the thing is outside. It’s called a Slyther, and is something of a pet to the Daleks. It eats people. Of course the Daleks like it. Where did it come from, though? Is it the only one of its kind? We will never know.

Meanwhile in the sewer, Susan almost gets herself eaten by a young alligator. It’s actually quite cute. Entirely the wrong takeaway from the scene, I know. Tyler fires on the alligator, and also manages to find the Doctor.


Look, he's only a baby.

Meanwhile, the blokes are finishing up supper when a rubbish prop… hand? Tentacle? I’m not sure. A prop whatever-it-is pops out and grabs Ashton.

It turns out that the Slyther was a lot scarier when we couldn’t really see it. It looks more like a bloke stuck inside a tattered sleeping bag than the monstrosity suggested by the excellent audio effects. To say it’s a letdown is an understatement.

The men make a run for it, but Ashton is lost to the Slyther. However, Ian and Larry don’t get far before coming to the edge of the quarry, and the Slyther is a quick eater.

THE WAKING ALLY

So, the Slyther’s closing in on Larry and Ian. Larry almost falls off the cliff, but catches himself on a conveniently placed waste bucket, which Ian hops into and helps him up. The Slyther hops over too, and there’s a little scuffle before it falls off, to its doom.

Well. That was a bit of a damp squib.

What is the point of teasing a scary monster if the monster turns out to be a) not scary, and b) defeated a couple of minutes after it turns up?

I suppose it was just there to pad out the runtime, but I would rather have no monster and a shorter runtime than a rubbish monster that couldn't even scare a baby. I doubt any of the kids watching stayed behind the sofa for very long once the Slyther appeared in the flesh, that’s for sure.

Larry wants to leg it, but Ian says no, because someone might have heard them. All the more reason to run, I’d have thought, but if they did that then the next bit of plot wouldn't happen. The waste bucket starts moving.

Down in London, the Doctor’s recovered, and the gang are being pursued by Robomen.

Once the Robomen catch up, we see why humanity is in such dire straits: the resistance is absolutely rubbish at fighting. Susan and the Doctor have to intervene to save David and Tyler from the Robomen, and the Doctor also saves one of the Robomen from Tyler, who was about to shoot him. Oh, you never take lives except when yours is threatened, Doctor? What about that cave man?

No, I’m never going to let that go.

Barbara and Jenny run across a woman and her daughter who have been scratching out a living making clothes for the slave workers. It’s not much of a living, as they’re starving and beside themselves with joy when Barbara offers to share her food. In return, the mother offers Barbara and Jenny a bed for the night. However, the daughter excuses herself and runs out on an errand. Suspicious.


And just look at Jenny's balaclava.

Meanwhile, Ian and Larry are on the long ride down the mineshaft. So long, in fact, it’s started to get noticeably warmer, and the pressure is increasing.

Back with the women, they’re chatting about London as the daughter comes back, with a Dalek trailing behind her. They’ve turned the women in, collaborating with the Daleks in return for some fruit and sugar.

Down in the mine, Ian decides to go  and see if he can find the main shaft, but a bunch of slaves being escorted by Robomen come along, so he and Larry decide to blend with the group.

However, a Roboman stops them, and Larry recognises him as his brother, Phil. Phil, however, doesn’t have a shred of humanity left within him. Larry tells Ian to run while he’s got the chance, before grappling with Phil as his brother turns his electric whip on him, electrocuting the both of them. Poor Larry. Poor Phil.

At least David and Susan are having fun. They’re in the countryside throwing fish at each other. What ever happened to just going on a date? All this fish-throwing must have an aphrodisiac effect, because before very long they’re kissing.

The Doctor turns up before the couple can corrupt the youth any further, and explains his hypothesis on the Dalek invasion: it’s to do with the mining operation. Well, duh. He then starts banging on about ‘controlling the flow of living energy’ and ‘tampering with the forces of creation’. So much for being a strict man of science.

Down in the mine, Ian is evading the Robomen when a slave patrol comes along, and he spots Barbara amongst them. Don’t worry, Ian. She’s not panicking.

In fact, she’s just realised she’s still got Dortmun’s notes. They’re a handy bargaining chip to get Barbara a meeting with the top Dalek brass, where she’ll tell them all about the rebel plans for attack.

Don’t worry. She’s got a plan… probably.

Now we get to meet the head honcho, the Dalek leader, the one with the creative name. It is called…the Black Dalek.

Because it is black. And a Dalek.

But now we’re going to find out the true purpose of the Dalek invasion.

The Daleks are going to blast open a fissure in Earth’s crust, which will blow a hole in it, and allow the Daleks to remove Earth’s molten core, removing the magnetic and gravitational effects. Why? So that they can fill Earth back up with a power source (because apparently the immensely hot ball of solid iron surrounded by liquid metal surrounded by lots of hot squishy rock wasn’t enough of a power source) which will enable the Daleks to pilot the Earth around like a spaceship.

Where do I even begin?

Well, Earth is in layers, so I’ll pick it apart in layers. I apologise in advance; I’m going to go on a bit. You might want to get comfortable.

The Crust Of The Matter

For one thing, England’s an absurd location to start digging. For another, you expect me to believe that manual labour dug all the way through a couple of dozen miles of rock, perhaps more? Just think of the heat and pressure the men working in our deepest mines today have to endure. Never mind the impossibility of digging through the semi-solid mantle, or the matter of what on Earth you’re going to do with all the liquid metal from the outer core, or the solid inner core.

And that’s just the logistics.

Spaceship Earth

Why. Just… why? You’re a technologically advanced civilisation, why not build your own planet-sized space station? And why Earth? Earth surely isn’t the only celestial body this side of the galaxy with a load of squidgy rock and metal in the centre. Why not go somewhere uninhabited and use machinery to mine?

Oh, and how is this Earth-ship even going to generate thrust?

This is giving me a headache.

Why, Oh Why, Oh Why?

Why do I care so much about the silly spaceship thing? Because it is a let-down.

It is such a disappointing a motive. Had this plot turned up in a different serial I think I would have appreciated how silly it is. I like silly sci-fi. However, here it’s created something of a mood whiplash, and watered down the story.

See, it really does seem completely absurd when you consider the fact that the Daleks are quite obviously based on the Nazis.


I don't think the symbolism could be any clearer.

The parallels to the Nazi regime and their occupation of Europe have been explicit and well done throughout the serial. For example, we have the genocide of large swathes of the human population, we have the survivors being imprisoned in forced labour camps, or being subjected to barbaric medical experiments. This parallel is what makes Daleks scary. I must give Nation credit, because he has clearly put a good deal of thought into it.

I can only suppose that Nation wanted to give us a more concrete reason for the Dalek invasion than ‘they want to get rid of us’, which is generally more satisfying in a narrative, but I think that weakens the parallel. Because sometimes conquering isn’t done for wealth or land or whatever material purpose, though those are bad enough. Sometimes it’s done in the name of getting rid of the people you feel are inferior, so you can claim supremacy. Isn’t that so much more powerful and horrifying?

It does make me wonder if someone higher up the food chain held Nation back from properly following through on the allegory he’s been building for the last few episodes. After all, it’s not exactly family-friendly. However, I do think that it would have been an important thing to show the children watching: the danger of ideologies based on supremacy and hatred going unchecked, and coming to their natural conclusion.

It's about applicability to real life. I don't think there are many people out there who want to scoop out Earth's insides and turn it into a space ship. However, there are many people out there, too many, who would gladly inflict unspeakable atrocities and indignities in the name of advancing their ideas of their own so-called superiority. There was an opportunity here to illustrate this in the Dalek invasion, but it wasn't taken.

Okay. I am done ranting. I promise.

So, where were we? Ah, yes. In the control room. They’re about to launch a device to blow the Earth open. And now, because we’re really getting quite silly, we see the device. Ian’s hiding in it. And of course, he gets trapped.

Bon voyage, Ian.

This is a weaker part of The Dalek Invasion Of Earth. The tonal issues are a real problem. We go from ‘a starving family betray their fellow man in exchange for food’ to ‘the evil plan to turn Earth into a spaceship’ in the space of a few minutes.

FLASHPOINT

Where do you think you're going? I have more to waffle about.

Ian manages a narrow escape from the capsule thanks to yanking every wire he can find, and starts climbing down the cable. However, the Daleks have caught on to his presence, and one severs Ian's escape route, sending him plunging into the mineshaft. Somehow, this doesn’t kill him.

Barbara and Jenny are brought before the Daleks, who now have everything they need, so they can go about enacting their ‘final solution’ and exterminate all the humans. See what I mean about the clear metaphor?

Barbara realises that if she could commandeer the communication device the Daleks use to control the Robomen (it’s basically hypnosis with a silly hat), she could give the Robomen new orders.

Now Barbara has to bluff. It took me a moment to realise what she was doing, but it’s pretty wonderful. She’s a history teacher by profession, remember? And the Daleks haven’t been reading up on theirs, so they’re oblivious as Barbara starts concocting a tall tale of a rebel attack, pieced together from snippets of Earth’s military history, from the Punic Wars to the American Civil War. I love her.

In a moment of distraction, Barbara tries to give orders to the Robomen, but the Daleks foil her and restrain the women.

Outside, the Doctor and Tyler are surveying the dig site. The Doctor gives Susan and David orders to use their remaining bombs to sever the cables carring things to and from the mine.

Deep in the Earth, Ian wakes up, and finds a way out of the mine shaft. Rather than make good his escape, he finds some discarded mine supports and uses them to block the shaft. This comes in useful moments later, when the Daleks fire the device. It becomes stuck on the blockage, preventing the Daleks' plan coming to fruition, and leaving them none the wiser.

The Doctor and Tyler make it down to the Dalek command, somehow. There was something about disabling the alarm systems. Seems a bit too easy if you ask me.

Then again, Daleks do seem oblivious, as they don’t spot the two hiding in their peripheral vision.


For heaven's sake, it looked right at him.

Soon enough the Doctor manages to rescue Barbara and Jenny. He’s aghast when Barbara tells him the ultimate goal of the Dalek invasion, because 'it’ll upset the entire constellation'. Earth isn't a star, Doctor. And constellations change. Because stars move.

I’m beginning to think that Nation is good at sociological stories, but maybe not the ‘science’ bit of science fiction.

I know. I am no fun.

The Doctor shows the women security footage of David and Susan working to destroy the mine cables, in the hopes of immobilising the Daleks.

However, a Dalek has spotted the Doctor and company, and is moving in for the kill.

Susan and David do their thing in the knick of time, which makes the Dalek overheat, for… some reason. I have to admit that the sight from the Dalek’s eyestalk as it approaches, with the Doctor staring it down, is pretty cool.

Barbara shows the Doctor the thing that controls the Robomen. I LOVE her Dalek impression. Oh, I have a little thing for you to try: shout directly into an electric fan. It makes you sound just like a Dalek and provides hours of amusement.

But Barbara doesn’t have time to have fun making silly voices . She orders the Robomen to turn on the Daleks. Vive la résistance!

Ian reunites with the gang, and on the surface, we see Robomen literally throwing Daleks around as everyone legs it out of the mine.

The Doctor is pretty sure that the Daleks’ plan won’t work with the bomb jammed, but it’ll still be a bloody big boom, so they’d better evacuate.

The music’s not bad here. It’s a bit basic, mostly just a repeating rising scale, but it does the job of creating tension quite nicely.

The device activates, and sure enough it is one heck of a bang. Through some pretty obvious stock footage, we see the gargantuan plume that billows from the mine, and the molten rock now surging to the surface.

And it turns out that the Dalek saucers were caught up in the plume, so they’re all gone. You're telling me every Dalek on the planet was hovering over Bedford? Whatever. I’m pretty sure that means that the blast should have killed the gang, who were watching from a nearby cliff, but let’s just enjoy the spectacle.

And with that, it’s all over. Well, the Dalek invasion of Earth is, anyway.

It looks like the TARDIS survived the firebombing, proving itself to be a sturdy little ship.

Susan, however, is quite morose. She doesn’t manage to spit out what’s upsetting her to the Doctor, but being her grandfather, he knows something’s wrong, and gives her a hug.

They have a little talk where there’s a lot more going on than what’s actually said aloud. It’s like they’re dancing around the issue, Susan all but screaming that she wants to stay, the Doctor realising that his granddaughter isn’t a little girl any more, all while on the surface they're talking about a broken shoe. The Doctor excuses himself to go check on the TARDIS and ostensibly repair Susan’s shoe, pausing for a moment to look back on her and David, together.

With the Dalek invasion over, David’s dreams of being able to build a new world have finally come true. He’s going to work the land, and he wants Susan to come with him. Poor Susan is on the verge of tears as David begs her to stay.

Her grandfather needs her. However, with David, she could have what she’s always wanted: her own place in the universe.

It’s a heart-wrenching dilemma, and well acted by Carole Ann Ford.

And it’s one the Doctor is all too aware of. In the end, he takes it out of her hands.

With Susan still outside, he shuts and locks the TARDIS doors. What follows is, in my opinion, one of the most wonderful speeches anyone in Doctor Who has ever given. It’s so full of love and confidence that Susan will thrive without her grandfather. It’s like the essence of growing up distilled into about thirty seconds of dialogue.

I will transcribe a few lines for you, because it is a special piece of dialogue:

One day, I shall come back. Yes, I shall come back. Until then, there must be no regrets, no tears, no anxieties. Just go forward in all your beliefs, and prove to me that I am not mistaken in mine.

Once the TARDIS is gone, Susan looks up in the sky, forlorn, as if hoping to spot that big blue box. David offers her his hand. She takes it, lets her TARDIS key fall to the ground, and they walk off hand in hand.

It’s a very bittersweet moment. Susan gets her time, her place, her love, but she has to leave the Doctor and her friends to build a new life on a planet scarred by the Dalek invasion. But in this grief comes the opportunity to create something new, and that’s quite beautiful.

Goodbye, Susan.

Final Thoughts

So, that was The Dalek Invasion Of Earth. What a serial! Though I must admit, I found the first half stronger than the second half, which would have been a bit disappointing had it not been for that wonderful speech.

I had planned to save the examination of the Nazi parallels for this section, but I found it more relevant earlier. I’ll just re-iterate the main points: the Daleks are clearly Nazis, and it’s not shy about showing the horrors of Nazi oppression. However, the silly thing with the Earth-spaceship dilutes the overall symbolism of fighting nationalist imperialism.

Of course, some might disagree with me, that giving the Dalek invasion an absurd goal actually undermines them, taking them (and fascists in general) down a peg or two. Or perhaps some may think going too far on the Nazi parallels may be too dark for teatime television, and that the earlier bits are enough. That’s fair.

Susan’s finally got some meaningful character development, but it did come at the cost of losing her from the TARDIS crew. I wonder how this will affect the group moving forward?

With Susan’s departure also comes the departure of the talented Carole Ann Ford. She really brought Susan to life, and I’m sad to see her go.

Here’s wishing her the best of luck in her future endeavours, and hoping that she pops back in from time to time for a guest appearance.

Until next time, then. See you all in the new year.

4.5 out of 5 stars


[Come join us at Portal 55, Galactic Journey's real-time lounge! Talk about your favorite SFF, chat with the Traveler and co., relax, sit a spell…]




[December 25, 1964] Stars of Bethlehem and Galactic Journey (Galactic Stars 1964)


by Gideon Marcus

[Time is running out to get your Worldcon membership!  Register here to be able to vote for the Hugos.]

Ho Ho Ho!

Merry Christmas, everyone!  Santa Traveler has got a lovely bunch of presents for you.

When I started this little project, it was a lot easier to keep track of all the science fiction that was coming out — I simply didn't try!  It was just me and three magazines a month.  (Keeping track of space shots was easier, too…there warn't that many!)

But these days, it is the Journey's mission to review as much science fiction and fantasy output as possible so as to give the Hugo Awards a run for their money.  Luckily, I've found a dozen other writers to join me on this mission, so coverage hasn't been too much of a problem.

Compiling the Galactic Stars at the end of the year, though… Whew!  Talk about making a list and checking it twice!

So, submitted for your approval are what we think are the best science fiction and fantasy 1964 had to offer the fans.  If you stick to this list, you will have a vast array of presents with which to while away Christmas morning…and beyond!


The 1964 Galactic Stars


——
Best Poetry
——

The End of the Wine, by C.S. Lewis

A poignant tale of lost Atlanteans; the last published piece by the recently deceased great.

——
Best Vignette (1-9 pages):
——

The Deepest Blue in the World, by S. Dorman

The logical and horrifying conclusion when women are valued for motherhood and nothing else.

Touchstone, by Terry Carr

You can carry luck in your pocket, literally.

The Life Hater, by Fred Saberhagen

The sentient robot battleships can be outwitted, but it's not easy!

Honorable Mention:

The Transcendent Tigers, by R. A. Lafferty

Beware of the Dog, by Gahan Wilson

Olsen and the Gull, by Eric St. Clair

A Crown of Rank Fumiter, by Vance Aandahl

Lucifer, by Roger Zelazny

F&SF dominated this category, in part because vignettes are their stock in trade.

——
Best Short Story (10-19 pages):
——

Final Encounter, by Harry Harrison

An amazing, sensitive tale of first contact with a familiar face.

The Boundary Beyond, by Florence Engel Randall

Love triangle meets a dryad.  Tragedy ensues.

Descending, by Thomas Disch

Credit overreach leads to a real and metaphysical descent — perhaps Tom Disch's best (and there's many to choose from!)

Honorable Mention:

Minnesota Gothic, by Thomas Disch

Pacifist, by Mack Reynolds

The Time Dweller, by Michael Moorcock

The Lost Leonardo, by J. G. Ballard

The Rule of Names, by Ursula K. LeGuin

The Word of Unbinding, by Ursula K. LeGuin

Cynosure, by Kit Reed

Paingod, by Harlan Ellison

A as in Android, by Frances T. Hall

Chameleon, by Ron Goulart

Beyond the Line, by William F. Temple

I remember, Anita, by Langdon Jones

Midnight in the Mirror World, by Fritz Leiber

Assassin and Son, by Thomas Disch

Your name shall be…darkness, by Norman Spinrad

Rescue Mission, by Harry Harrison

A Red Heart and Blue Roses, by Miriam Allen DeFord

Forgive me for the avalanche!  But with so many stories coming out and so many fellow travelers making recommendations, it was hard to prune the list.

This is a category with highly disproportionate representation by women, considering that only about ten percent of the stories published in the magazines we cover are penned by women.  You can bet one or more of these will be in the next volume of Rediscovery!

——
Best Novelette (20-45 pages)
——

The Eyes Have It, by Randall Garrett

In a magical 20th Century, an hermetic detective investigates a murder.

The Fall of Frenchy Steiner, by Hilary Bailey

Spies and psionics in Nazi-occupied England.

The Delegate from Guapanga, by Wyman Guin

A battle for the throne in a beautifully realized alien setting.

Honorable Mention:

Novelty Act, by Philip K. Dick

The Terminal Beach, by J. G. Ballard

Jungle Substitute, by Brian Aldiss

The Master Key, by Poul Anderson

The Black Gondolier, by Fritz Leiber

A lot of tough choices here.  And I'm as surprised as you to see Garrett at the top of the list, but there he is!

——
Best Novella (46+ pages)
——

The Graveyard Heart, by Roger Zelazny

The ultra-rich hibernate through history, occasionally waking to party and cavort.  A highly literary piece.

A Man of the Renaissance, by Wyman Guin

A future Leonardo on a landless planet — ingenuity is humanity's greatest resource.

The Dark Light-Years, by Brian Aldiss

Can we handle first contact with a physically repulsive species?

Honorable Mention:

Adept's Gambit, by Fritz Leiber (reprint)

Once a Cop, by Rick Raphael

Day of the Great Shout, by Philip J. Farmer

The Fatal Eggs, by Mikhail Bulgakov (reprint…sort of)

Soldier Ask Not, by Gordon Dickson

The Kragen, by Jack Vance

We have a lot more choices this year for the category.  It's probably because we are reviewing more magazines, which is where novellas tend to come out.  They are a really nice length — long enough to develop a theme, but not so long as to compel overstaying a welcome (if it's not necessary).

——
Best Novel/Serial
——

The Boy Who Bought Old Earth/The Store of Heart's Desire, by Cordwainer Smith

The ultimate Instrumentality story, weaving all of the threads spun heretofore.  It is strung across two magazines.

The Other Human Race, by H. Beam Piper

Sequel and superior to Little Fuzzy.  Sadly, we lost Mr. Piper last month, so this is his last book.

Message from the Eocene, by Margaret St. Clair

Billions of years ago, before life evolved on our planet, the alien Tharg must deliver a cosmic gudebook.  He dies in the process, leaving his soul to enlist the aid of humans in 1974…

Honorable Mention:

Equinox, by J. G. Ballard

The Starsloggers, by Harry Harrison

I want the stars, by Tom Purdom

Davy, by Edgar Pangborn

Simulacron-3, by Daniel Galouye

Transit, by Edmund Cooper

Marooned, by Martin Caidin

Starswarm, by Brian Aldiss

The Whole Man, by John Brunner

The Penultimate Truth, by Philip K. Dick

Another hard set of choices!  Davy only didn't make the list because we've seen the stories that make up the novel in prior F&SF issues.  The Starsloggers was a very close fourth.

——
Science Fact
——

The Conventional Approach, by Robert Bloch

An excellent history of science fiction conventions!  No con organizer should start an endeavor without reading it.

Clouds, Bubbles and Sparks, by Edward C. Walterscheid

The best one-article summary I've yet found of how we detect cosmic rays and charged particles.

Anyone Else for Space?, by Willy Ley

The Space Race isn't just the province of the U.S. and U.S.S.R. anymore.

Honorable Mention:

The Early Days of the Metric System, by Willy Ley

Plowshare Today, by Edward C. Walterscheid

Philip Jose Farmer: Sex and Science Fiction, by Sam Moskowitz

A nice spread this year.  I am particularly happy to see Willy Ley back on this list, and also seeing Analog represented again.  Missing are Amazing's Ben Bova, who is improving, but is not yet a star, and Dr. Asimov of F&SF, who is still good, but whose work seems to be a little phoned in these days.

——
Best Magazine
——

New Worlds (3.20 stars; five Galactic Star entries)

Galaxy (3.10 stars; nine Galactic Star entries)

Worlds of Tomorrow (2.93 stars; four Galactic Star entries)

IF (2.90 stars; four Galactic Star entries)

Fantastic (2.81 stars; but twelve Galactic Star entries)

Analog (2.76 stars; six Galactic Star entries)

Fantasy and Science Fiction (2.64 stars; but seventeen Galactic Star entries)

Amazing (2.38 stars; two Galactic Star entries)

and Gamma, with only one issue (3 stars)

Pohl's triplets continue to be very strong showers, but New Worlds across the Pond took the prize.  Fantastic and F&SF are worth reading for their standouts even if their average ranks are unimpressive. 

Shame about Gamma.  It was so promising.

——
Best author(s)
——

Tom Disch

This Cele Lalli discovery, just 24 years old, garnered three Galactic Stars this year.

He narrowly beats out Harry Harrison (and Harrison might have been on top, but he came out with clunkers as well as masterpieces this year).

——
Best Artist
——

John Schoenherr

One of Analog's regulars, I just love his clean, pen and ink style as well as his muted color, realistic covers.

Honorable Mention:

Ed Emshwiller

Kelly Freas

Mel Hunter

——
Best Dramatic Presentation
——

Failsafe

The most riveting and horrifying film about nuclear war ever made.

Mothra vs. Godzilla

The best giant monster movie ever made…and it stars a woman (monster)!

The Dalek Invasion of the Earth, an episode of Doctor Who

Daleks in front of Buckingham Palace.  Nuff said.

Honorable Mention:

Dr. Strangelove

Woman in the Dunes

Goldfinger

Der Hexer

First Men in the Moon

Masque of the Red Death

The Circus of Dr. Lao

Seven Days in May

Demon with a Glass Hand, an episode of The Outer Limits

Marco Polo, an episode of Doctor Who

An Occurrence at Owl Creek Bridge, an episode of The Twilight Zone

and

Beauty Contest, an episode of My Living Doll

Why list a comedy I dismissed (from the previews) as frivolous, sexist, and dumb?

Because this show, about a fellow who comes into the custody of a woman android, is genuinely funny — all thanks to Julie Newmar.  The bit where she plays piano a la Victor Borge is one of the great scenes of TV history.

Plus, Ms. Newmar is an incredible person, all 'round.  I hope we see more of her screen outings in the near future!

——
Best Fanzine
——

Starspinkle gave up the ghost last month, though it has a lookalike sequel, Ratatosk.  They were/are both nice little gossip biweeklies.

Of course, we are partial to Galactic Journey, and we you hope are, too!  We have been honored to accept your nomination for Hugo Finalist twice in a row (though we strangely did not appear on the 1963 and 1964 ballots).  We hope you'll choose us again!


And that's that for 1964!  It was a rich year full of worthy titles.  Ho Ho Ho!  Go ye and enjoy them all!




[December 23, 1964] Odds and Ends (January 1965 Fantastic)


by Victoria Silverwolf

A Hodgepodge of Happenings

It's the season for clearing out all that stuff you've got piling up in the closet, ready to greet the new year with a fresh start. With that in mind, and given the fact that no one news item dominated the headlines this month, allow me to throw out a few observations about what's been going on lately.

Italy joined the Space Age this month, with the launching of that nation's first satellite, as recently discussed in great detail by our own Kaye Dee.  Named the San Marco, the spacecraft rode on top of an American Scout rocket from the Wallops Flight Facility in Virginia. Although this is primarily just a test flight, the satellite does carry a couple of instruments designed to study the ionosphere.


The San Marco is the striped, spherical object, shown here being loaded into the Scout rocket. It seems fitting that an object intended to soar into the heavens is named after a saint.

After months of surprisingly passionate debate over its design, a new flag will now symbolize the nation of Canada. Some English-speaking Canadians wanted to retain the Union Jack found in the old, unofficial flag, while many French-speaking Canadians objected. The current flag looks like a good compromise.


The old design, known as the Red Ensign. Besides everything else, it just looks messy.


The new design, which seems much more aesthetically pleasing to me.

The late Ian Fleming's master spy continues to draw moviegoers to the box office like flies to honey, as his latest cinematic adventure arrived in the USA this month.


I think that woman in the middle has been sunbathing too long.

A Miscellany of Music

Unlike some months earlier this year, December offered no overwhelmingly popular song at the top of the American charts. There were no less than four hits that reached Number One this month, and maybe we'll even hear from a fifth contender before 1965 arrives.

Spilling over from late November was Leader of the Pack by the girl group the Shangri-Las. I can't decide if this tragic tale of a romance ended by a fatal motorcycle accident is an example of a Teenage Death Song, or a tongue-in-cheek spoof of that macabre little genre.


These smiling ladies aren't saying one way or the other.

It would be hard to find a starker contrast with that bit of feminine adolescent angst than Lorne Greene's rendition of the cowboy saga Ringo. Obviously, the record is cashing in on the popularity of his hit television series Bonanza. Greene doesn't really sing so much as narrate this tale of the final confrontation between an outlaw and a lawman.


I wonder how many young people think this song is about the drummer for the Beatles.

It wasn't much later that Greene was outgunned by crooner Bobby Vinton, returning to the top of the charts with the tearjerking ballad Mr. Lonely.


The singer kindly provides the address of his official fan club right on the record sleeve.

Not to be outdone, the Supremes gave us their third smash Motown hit with the catchy little number Come See About Me.


And they're classy dressers, too.

A Smorgasbord of Stories

In a similarly generous fashion, the latest issue of Fantastic supplies a wide variety of short stories, as well as the first half of a novel.


Cover art by Emsh

The Girl in the Gem, by John Jakes


Interior illustrations also by Emsh

Here's another swashbuckling adventure of the mighty barbarian Brak, whom we've met many times before.

In unheroic fashion, our protagonist is passed out drunk in a seaside inn. A bunch of dwarfs rush in, armed with knives, but deliberately avoid hurting him. It's all part of a plot to frame him for robbery. You see, an earthquake tumbled the old palace into the ocean. Another one raised it up again. Meanwhile, the local king is dying. His daughter blackmails Brak with the threat of death for thievery if he doesn't undertake the dangerous task of rescuing her sister, who was imprisoned in a gigantic jewel, from the recently revealed palace. Of course, this means he has to defeat a hideous creature.


The mandatory monster

The author writes vividly and definitely keeps the action moving. This is the shortest tale of Brak yet, and it's got plenty of plot for its length. The characters are standard for the sword-and-sorcery genre, and a few incidents seem arbitrary. (Why are the royal servants who invade the inn all dwarfs?) Despite a lack of originality in some aspects, it's worth reading.

Three stars.

Journal of a Leisured Man, by Bryce Walton


Illustration by George Schelling

In a technologically advanced future, an accountant loses his job to a computer. Like many other people, he is forced to remain unemployed for the rest of his life. To add to his troubles, his faithless wife leaves him for another man.

The company that formerly employed the fellow makes automatons, in the form of animals, children, and adults. We witness some gruesome ways customers use these simulacra. In what seems to be at first an act of kindness, an employee of the company offers the man a synthetic duplicate of his wife, to do with as he pleases. You may predict the twist ending.

Although there are few surprises, the story has a certain grim power. It's not always pleasant to read, but is likely to remain in the memory.

Three stars.

On the River, by Robert F. Young

A man finds himself on a raft, floating down a river by day, staying at deserted inns on shore by night. He meets a woman in the same situation, and romance blooms. It soon becomes obvious that both of them attempted suicide, and that the river leads to death.

(The idea of an afterlife on a world dominated by a river also appears in the most recent issue of Worlds of Tomorrow. Given the delays in the publishing industry between writing a story and seeing it in print, this must be nothing more than a coincidence.)

I'm a sucker for this author's bittersweet love stories, so I enjoyed this one quite a bit. The conclusion may be obvious, but any other ending would have been inappropriate for a writer who wears his heart on his sleeve.

Four stars.

The Repairmen of Cyclops (Part One of Two), by John Brunner


Illustrations by George Schelling

A little research reveals that this novel is set in the same universe as two previous works, each published as one-half of an Ace Double. The series as a whole deals with what are known as Zarathustra Refugee Planets. Many centuries ago, the star which the colony planet Zarathustra orbited went nova. The inhabitants, fleeing the disaster, wound up populating a large number of planets. The Galactic Corps watches over these worlds, making sure that outsiders don't interfere with their development, while refraining from becoming overly involved themselves.


Cover art by Emsh


Also by Emsh

In the style of Philip K. Dick, the author uses many different viewpoint characters, so it takes a while before the main thrust of the plot becomes clear. The story mostly takes place on Cyclops, a relatively poor planet, although there is a wealthy upper class. An agent of the Galactic Corps, who was, I believe, the protagonist of Secret Agent of Terra, reviewed by our own Rosemary Benton some time ago, arrives after twenty years of service. Her reward for two decades of unpleasant, thankless work is considerable. She will have her youth restored, and her life extended for two centuries.

The extremely advanced medical technology of the Galactic Corps is one reason why the ruler of the planet resents them. (Although the government of Cyclops is, in theory, representative, she wields the real power.) There is also the fact that many natives of Cyclops were killed by the inhabitants of another world when they tried to make slaves of them. (I think these events also appeared in Secret Agent of Terra. Castaways' World does not seem to be as closely related to this new novel.)

The ruler's lover is an ex-spaceman who lost a leg in an accident. Although it was replaced, he is no longer allowed to serve on spaceships. While hunting the gigantic shark-like creatures who live in the oceans of Cyclops, he loses the same leg. After a brief stay in the local Galactic Corps hospital, he is whisked back to the care of his lover and her doctor. This creates a mystery for the Galactic Corps; how was the man's leg replaced, given the limited medical technology of Cyclops, and how do they expect to do it again? The author soon reveals the answer in scenes that take place on another world, where a sinister conspiracy takes advantage of unsuspecting victims.

Although a bit melodramatic in parts, this is an intriguing novel, full of richly defined characters, many of whom I have not even mentioned.


I haven't talked about these people.


I also haven't brought up these folks.

The author balances scenes of violent action with necessary exposition. It's interesting to note that the characters who are, I assume, the main protagonist and the primary antagonist are both powerful women. The complex background is fully developed, without becoming overwhelming.

Four stars.

Make Mine Trees, by David R. Bunch

The magazine's most controversial writer returns with another dark and strange story. This one is more comprehensible than most, and the title definitely helps you understand what's going on. The narrator, who is clearly as mad as a hatter, used some kind of formula to change his wife and her lover into trees. Now his young son is undergoing the same transformation. Typical for the author, the plot is much less important than the eerie mood and the eccentric style.

Three stars.

Multiple Choice, by John Douglas

A trio of young men, who have undergone a series of tests to become part of the elite, wait in a room for their final examination. They hear gunshots and screams from outside. Each one has a different theory about what's happening. Is it a hoax, designed to test their nerves? Are those who fail the last exam shot to death? Is it even possible that everyone is killed? The story's ending is inconclusive, which may be the point. Many readers will find the lack of a full resolution frustrating.

Two stars.

Something For Everyone?

Although the overall mood of the issue is on the dark side, there are all kinds of imaginative fiction to be found between its covers. From a heroic fantasy set in a distant past that never existed, to an adventure in deep space in the far future, and from a romantic parable of love and death, to a cynical portrait of tomorrow's dystopian society, there is enough variety to please just about every reader of speculative literature. You won't enjoy every story, but I don't think you'll dislike all of them. (If you do, turn to Robert Silverberg's book review column for more recommendations.)


He mostly reviews anthologies and collections in this particular column, so you've got lots to choose from.



[December 19, 1964] December Galactoscope #2

[The second Galactoscope for this month features a pair of new novels we felt we could not in good conscience leave unreviewed, particularly the latter. Enjoy this last review of books before the New Year!


by Victoria Silverwolf

The Day the Machines Stopped, by Christopher Anvil


Cover art by Ralph Brillhart

The Anvil Chorus

Christopher Anvil is the pseudonym of Harry C. Crosby, who published a couple of stories under his real name in the early 1950's. After remaining silent for a few years, he came back with a bang in the late 1950's, and has since given readers about fifty tales under his new name. His work most often appears in Astounding/Analog.

A typical Anvil yarn is a lightly comic tale about clever humans defeating technologically advanced but naive aliens. Perhaps his best-known story is Pandora's Planet (Astounding, September 1956), the first of a series of humorous accounts of the misadventures of lion-like aliens trying to deal with the chaos caused by those unpredictable humans.


Cover art by Frank Kelley Freas

The Day the Machines Stopped is his first novel. (At only 120 pages of text, I'm guessing it's well under 40,000 words, so it might be considered a long novella.) With its near-future setting, lack of space travel or aliens, and almost entirely serious tone, it's quite different from his usual creations.

The Eternal Triangle in the Science Lab

The first page of the book sets up a romantic conflict. Brian Philips, our protagonist, is a chemist for a research corporation. Carl Jackson is an electronics expert for the same company. They are both interested in Anne Cermak, who works with Brian. Carl is bigger, richer, and more used to getting his own way than his rival. Brian is a nicer guy, of course, and has the decency to admit that it's up to Anne to choose which of the two men, if either, she prefers.

Before we get too deep into this soap opera plot, we get our reminder that this is a science fiction novel. A news report on the radio reveals that a Russian scientist has defected to the West. He claims that an experiment in cryogenics at a Soviet facility in Afghanistan threatens civilization. It isn't very long before he proves to be right.

Who Turned Out the Lights?

Somehow or other, the experiment causes electricity to fail. Fully charged batteries provide no power. Automobiles stop dead in their tracks. (Diesel trucks still operate, but only when their electric starters are replaced by another kind of technology.) Working together despite their rivalry, Brian and Carl explore the surrounding area on bicycles. Things are the same all over, it seems.

The president of the research corporation, James Cardan, sees bad times coming. He manages to assemble firearms, provisions, and other supplies. His plan is to take his employees and their families, in a caravan of diesel trucks, to the northwest part of the United States, which he assumes will be safer than more populated areas.

Two Against Chaos

Without giving too much away, let's just say that circumstances cause Brian and Anne's father to miss the caravan. They set out on their own on bicycles, hoping to catch up to the others. (Due to frequent roadblocks caused by stalled cars, this isn't too unlikely. The diesel trucks are also slowed down by frequent stops for repairs.)

As expected, the breakdown in technology leads to bands of armed bandits, desperate for survival, battling over food. After many dangerous encounters, the pair of two-wheeled adventurers join Cardan's group.

Duking it Out

The caravan runs into a large, heavily armed, well-organized army, under the command of a man wearing a silver crown. He proclaims that the surrounding countryside, now known as the Districts United, is under his protection. He will punish those guilty of killing, arson, robbery, and bushwacking. (These specific crimes are listed under the acronym karb.) He calls himself the Districts United Karb Eliminator, or Duke. (This bit of satiric wordplay is one of the few traces of wit in the novel.)

Obviously, he's a megalomaniac, but he's a smart and effective one. Many survivors of the disaster are willing to place themselves under his dictatorship, given the alternative of fighting violent criminals. Brian, having few other choices, winds up working for the Duke, rebuilding steam engines, biding his time until he can escape with the rest of Cardan's group.

Worth Reading by Candlelight?

Anvil's style is plain and straightforward, so the book is very readable. His depiction of what would happen if electric power vanished is convincing, although the scientific explanation for why this happens is vague. The romantic subplot is less believable. The hero sometimes comes across as a ninny, given his willingness to trust someone who has already betrayed him. The ending comes as something of a deus ex machina. Overall, the novel is worth spending four dimes and two hours reading, but it's unlikely to become a classic.

Three stars.



By Rosemary Benton

The Other Human Race by H. Beam Piper

I could not be more happy with science fiction nowadays. On television we have shows like The Twilight Zone that are stretching the boundaries of story telling, and exploring new topics in a science fiction setting. In literature we have authors like H. Beam Piper who integrate a veritable cornucopia of academic fields into their stories about human exploration.

This is not the cut and dry kind of science fiction where it's us or them in a race for survival. Piper's books approach space exploration with a touching level of humanity and compassion. Alien and human language, diet, population demographics, social structures, and more are all examined and dissected by Piper's characters. His burgeoning "Little Fuzzy" series, following the success of his 1962 novel "Little Fuzzy", is a brilliant example of the ability Piper has to consider the humongous ramifications and complications of humanity contacting alien civilizations.

Fuzzies, Fuzzies Everywhere

"The Other Human Race" picks up mere weeks after the explosive conclusion "Little Fuzzy". Having been granted the universal recognition of "sapient", the fuzzies' home world of Zarathustra has been granted independence from the Chartered Zarathustrian Company. Word of the sensational trial has begun spreading like wildfire throughout human colonized space. But the fuzzies' new found notoriety has brought both altruistic and enterprising humans to Zarathustra.

On one side are the people who want to integrate the fuzzies into the wider galactic civilization while keeping their dignity and safety  in mind. This includes linguists, psychologists, nutritionists and other "Friends of the Fuzzies" who see value in the fuzzies as people, not animals. In contrast are those who would exploit the naive little people, as well as those who want to fill the power vacuum left by the CZC. Worst of all is the pressing concern about the kidnapping and enslaving of fuzzies to sell as pets in an illegal off-planet black market.

Things Just Got More Complicated

Piper balances that marvelous rush of scientific discovery in "Little Fuzzy" with a a weighty maturity in "The Other Human Race". While our protagonists take immense satisfaction with their continued study of the fuzzies, they bear a weighty responsibility. It inevitably comes down to them to make sure that the fuzzies’ quality of life is not sacrificed in humanity's drive to conserve the species.

Now that fuzzies have been made known to the universe, they face predators more devious and cunning than the native species of the planet. How can the Commission of Native Affairs go forward with plans to have humans adopt fuzzies and still protect them once a fuzzy is situated with a new human family?

The issue of the fuzzies' high infant mortality rate is also complicating things. To study why this is happening the group stationed on Zarathustra have to keep a miscarried fuzzy for study, despite the distress this causes the local fuzzy population. Their limited diet and off-balanced internal biology are also a tricky problem to study since the team can't just cut into a fuzzy and study its internal organs. Nor can they subject a fuzzy to a battery of tests to see how it reacts under certain stressors.

That same maturation is present in the character arcs of the cast. Those who were opposed to the recognition of the fuzzies as sapient in the first book are not permanently cast as evil. Instead, they change their attitudes towards the fuzzies with exposure to the little aliens. For instance, Victor Grego very early on in "The Other Human Race" comes across a fuzzy who has been scrounging around in his company's headquarters. After spending time with a member of the species that cost him access to the valuable resources on Zarathustra, Victor comes to realize that fuzzies are actually wonderful companions.

Our protagonists, including Jack Holloway and Ruth van Riebeek, must go through their own paradigm shift regarding those who were once their enemies. The grace with which some of these characters accept their former enemies as allies is laudable. Those employees of the now-charterless Zarathustra Company were acting in the interest of protecting their investments and livelihoods. But if they are willing to adapt and redeem themselves then, CZC or not, they should be congratulated and welcomed for their change of heart.

A Fragile New Sentience

H. Beam Piper's writing is altogether very touching. It's optimistic, but realistic in its acceptance that once something has been put in motion it will become infinitely more complicated. At the same time he seems to adhere to an inevitable sense of justice in his written worlds. Like a progressive modern scientist, Piper strongly advocates for the naturally given right people have to happiness and safety. All of his characters are entitled to it, and those who abuse or try to take away that right from others always get their just deserts.

Piper's writing continues to impress, and seems to be gaining more and more depth with each new novel. His "Little Fuzzy" series in particular has a lot of promise, and I hope to see more installations in the near future.

Five stars for Piper's well written sequel and masterfully built world.

[We are sad to have learned of H. Beam Piper's tragic passing just a few weeks ago. The genre has lost one of its brightest lights.]



[Holiday season is upon us, and Rediscovery: Science Fiction by Women (1958-1963) contains some of the best science fiction of the Silver Age. And it makes a great present! A gift to friends, yourself…and to the Journey!]


[December 15, 1964] Failed Flight of Fancy (January 1965 Fantasy and Science Fiction)


by Gideon Marcus

Missing Something

Science fiction and fantasy are closely aligned genres.  Indeed, there is no hard line between them (like the continuum from sharks to rays) and one person's "soft" science fiction is another's fantasy.  Each of the monthly SFF mags has carved out its own turf in the spectrum between hardest SF and fluffiest fantasy. 

Analog has chosen the firmest of grounds, its stories highly scientific; even the recent Lord D'Arcy tales are a kind of highly rigorous fantasy.  Galaxy, IF, and Worlds of Tomorrow also hew solidly to "reality".  The magazines that trip more fantastic tend to indicate such in their titles: Fantastic, Science Fantasy, The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction.

The name of the last one belies the fact that precious little, if any, science fiction appears within its covers these days.  It didn't used to be so; during the Mills era, Naked to the Stars, and many other definitive science fiction works appeared.  But ever since Avram Davidson took over, and even though he has been gone two issues now, F&SF has been a horror/fantasy mag.

And this is a problem.  While SF is an ever-evolving genre, powered by new discoveries that unlock entire subgenres, fantasy is an unstructured, amorphous mass.  And horror is (at least for now) a pile of cliches.  Seen five Alfred Hitchcock Presents (the TV analog to F&SF) and you've seen them all.  You may enjoy those five very much, but after a season of them, you're through with the genre.

F&SF's all-starring January 1965 issue is chock full of stories that might have been passable, if lesser, tales back in 1949.  These days, they are frustratingly inadequate, especially given the new 50 cent price tag.

Exibit F (for Fantasy/Failure)


by Mel Hunter (depicting a landing on Neptune's moon, Triton — the closest this issue will get to SF)

End of the Line, by Chad Oliver

We start with an "after the Bomb" piece, which I guess qualifies it as a low form of SF.  However, its premise is sheer fantasy.  In brief, it is centuries down the line, and civilized humanity has lost the ability to breed.  The more comfortable we become, the lower our fertility, the sicklier are our children.  Only the ignorant savages outside the last City remain fecund.

One City-dweller is a throwback, leading raiding parties into savage lands to kidnap children to be raised back at home.  Whence come this spark of atavistic vigor?  Of course, it turns out he's a kidnapped savage.  And also that the primitives, themselves, are descendants of City-dwellers abandoned as children.  Because all it takes to regain the spark of life is utter deprivation.

It's a dumb story, and women are portrayed as neurotic wives and would-be wet nurses.

Two stars.

Dimensional Analysis and Mr. Fortescue, by Eric St. Clair

Margaret St. Clair (and as her alter ego, Idris Seabright) is one of the best known names in the genre.  Her husband, Eric, is an up-and-comer.  Unfortunately, his latest story, about a fellow who opens a funhouse but finds it was inadvertently equipped with an interdimensional rift, is a down-and-goer.  Just too broadly written and inconsequential; the kind of frothy stuff Davidson dug.  Meringue can be tasty, but you can't live on it.

Two stars.

Begin at the Beginning, by Isaac Asimov

The Good Doctor's article is on calendar year system.  Entertainingly spun, and including a few tidbits I had not been hitherto aware of, it nevertheless is a history lesson rather than a scientific piece.  That's okay, as far as it goes, but it's much easier to present a non-technical piece for a layman than to explain an abstruse topic.

Three stars.

The Mysterious Milkman of Bishop Street, by Ward Moore

Turn-of-the-Century fellow engages a new milkman who promises to deliver his goods right to the doorstep rather than let it freeze on the street.  The product is superb, the service excellent — too excellent.  When it starts mysteriously appearing inside the house, the fellow decides he's had too much of a good thing and abandons his residence.

I liked that this story turns the "if it seems too good to be true" cliche on its head (there's never anything untoward about the milk; in fact, during the term of the milkman's engagement, life had been significantly better for the drinker).  However, it ends abruptly and with insufficient development.  It needed another sting for its tail.

Three stars.

Famous First Words, by Harry Harrison

Brilliant scientist devises a contraption to record the genesis of great inventions.  It's really just an excuse for a brace of ha-ha vignettes, which aren't very funny.

A disappointment, both given the author and the promising title (which is now useless).

Two stars.

The Biolaser, by Theodore L. Thomas

The Science Springboard is back, this time positing a time when laser scalpels are so thin, they can splice DNA like reel-to-reel tape.  Maybe it's possible? 

Three stars, I guess.

Those Who Can, Do, by Bob Kurosaka

An impudent college student interrupts his teacher's math lecture with a demonstration of magic.  The teacher responds in kind.

No really, that's it.

Two stars.

Wogglebeast, by Edgar Pangborn

Molly, a middle-aged woman with an inherited fancy for magical (if mythical) creatures, befriends a Wogglebeast when it emerges from a pot of chicken soup.  She keeps the odd animal, which is never really described until the end, as kind of a pet, kind of a good luck charm.  Fortune does seem to follow, and she even, at the age of 41, manages to become pregnant.  The story, however, has a sad ending.

A sentimental and well-written tale, it doesn't have much more than emotion going for it.  And I'm getting tired of women portrayed solely as mothers or wanting to be mothers.

Three stars.

Love Letter from Mars, by John Ciardi

Good meter on this poem, but after reading it five times, I've still no idea what the author is trying to communicate.

Two stars.

The House the Blakeneys Built, by Avram Davidson

Ugh.  Davidson.

Alright.  I won't leave it at that.  The Blakeneys are the descendants of a four-person crew stranded on a (entirely Earthlike, of course) planet hundreds of years ago.  Severe inbreeding has dulled their intelligence and bred in odd superstitions.  When a fresh foursome of shipwreckees arive, the results are not happy ones.

Another vaguely promising tale that comes to an unsurprising, uninspiring end.

Two stars.

Four Ghosts in Hamlet, by Fritz Leiber

Finally, we have the longest piece of the mag, about the goings on in a Shakespeare company which culminate in a seemingly spectral conclusion during the Ghost's appearance in Hamlet.

Leiber, of course, recounts from experience, being a prominent actor, himself.  But unlike the excellent No Great Magic, there is not a hint of fantasy or science fiction in this F&SF story.  And while I appreciated the 30 page, (deliberately) gossipy and meandering behind-the-scenes look at life in an acting company, that's not why I subscribed to this mag.

Three stars.

Back to Reality

What a disappointment that was!  If new editor Ferman can't find anyone to write proper SF, or even imaginative F for F&SF, he might as well change the magazine's masthead.  As is, it's false advertising.

Oh well.  There are plenty of interesting magazines and books next to it on this month's newsstand…



[Holiday season is upon us, and Rediscovery: Science Fiction by Women (1958-1963), on the other hand, contains some of the best science fiction of the Silver Age — many from F&SF's prouder days.  And it makes a great present!  A gift to friends, yourself…and to the Journey!]


[December 13, 1964] Save us from Yourselves (January 1965 Amazing)


by John Boston

That Low

The uproar at the University of California at Berkeley continues, with student leader Mario Savio becoming instantly famous for his cri de couer: “There's a time when the operation of the machine becomes so odious—makes you so sick at heart—that you can't take part. You can't even passively take part. And you've got to put your bodies upon the gears and upon the wheels, upon the levers, upon all the apparatus, and you've got to make it stop. And you've got to indicate to the people who run it, to the people who own it that unless you're free, the machine will be prevented from working at all.”

Ever see that corny old silent movie Metropolis, with its oppressed workers desperately struggling against the gigantic levers of a future civilization’s industry?  Do you think Mr. Savio might have had those scenes in mind?  Is our culture now to be dominated by the imagery of old science fiction, recycled through late-night TV?  It can’t come soon enough for me.

The Issue at Hand


by Michael Arndt

Speaking of retrograde imagery, the January Amazing leads off with what seems a striking misjudgment.  Though it features the first installment of a serial by the up-and-coming Roger Zelazny, his longest work to date, the cover is a cartoony though well-executed depiction, by newcomer Michael Arndt, of an extraterrestrial boxer being knocked out of the ring, with a Damon Runyonesque audience looking on, clearly illustrating Blue Boy by the determinedly mediocre Jack Sharkey.  Zelazny’s story is relegated to smaller type above the magazine title, with his name hard to read against a bright background.  Amazing is clearly leading from the wrong side.  (Can’t anybody here play this game?)

He Who Shapes, by Roger Zelazny


by George Schelling

Promising as it seems, I will withhold reading and commenting on Zelazny’s serial He Who Shapes until the concluding installment is at hand, as is my practice.  A look at the first few pages indicates that the story involves psychiatric treatment by mental projection—not exactly a new idea (see Peter Phillips’s Dreams Are Sacred from 1948 and John Brunner’s more recent The Whole Man), but not overly familiar either.  Zelazny also seems to be making the most of his theatrical background in this one.  We will see the results next month.

Blue Boy, by Jack Sharkey

Blue Boy is even worse than I expected.  The protagonist, formerly involved in the boxing world, has been drafted, and is sent with a large crew on a mission to Pluto, where they encounter blue-skinned humanoids, whom they clap into the brig, and hastily head back towards Earth.  The Plutonians are quite muscular and have a knack for footwork, so our protagonist gets the idea of sneaking onto Earth with one and turning him into a boxer. 


by Michael Arndt

That’s about as far as I got (halfway) in this offensively stupid and also interminable screed (34 pages but seems like much more), which is written, and padded, in a stilted and circumlocutory style which seems pretty clearly intended as a pastiche of the above-mentioned Damon Runyon.  “Why?” one might cry, but the wind only whispers . . . “one cent a word.” One star.  No stars.  Heat death of the universe.  Cessation of all brain activity.  Bring back Robert F. Young!

A Child of Mind, by Norman Spinrad


by Virgil Finlay

We return at least to the semblance of sentience with Norman Spinrad’s A Child of Mind, a clever variation on a stock SF plot.  Three guys from Survey land on a planet which seems idyllic, but of course there’s something wrong; there always is.  This time, the majority of the females of the various local fauna have cell structures indicating they are really different organisms under the skin. 

Turns out they spring from “teleplasm,” an inchoate life form whose modus vivendi is, whenever a male of any species passes by, to discern and produce his ideal mate.  Why this all-female survival strategy?  As the hero, ecologist Kelton, Socratically explains to one of the other guys:

“Who pays for a wife’s meals?”

“Her husband, of—Oh my God!”

Er . . . that’s not always how it works.  If a lioness could speak, she would have a rather different account of things, as would many other females of other species.  But never mind, because, of course, very shortly, all three crew members have their own cocoon-grown dream girls: the thuggish one has an adoring slave, the mama’s boy has a sexy mama figure, and well-balanced Kelton has a merely supernaturally beautiful mate who understands his every desire.

This road leads nowhere, of course—to species extinction, since teleplasm doesn’t breed in the usual fashion, and not even to short-term satisfaction for Kelton, to whom

“. . . Woman had always been Mystery.

“And a creature of his own mind could hold no mystery for him, only the unsatisfying illusion of it.”

So Kelton does the only sensible thing, which you can probably guess.  While Kelton’s devotion to the autonomy of Woman may be creditable, there are hints of some pretty strange attitudes drifting through the story.  At one point, as Kelton is musing about how the teleplasm women are custom-made for their men, he thinks, “Swapping them would be like swapping toothbrushes.” Earlier, Spinrad quotes a “saying among Survey men: ‘Planets are like women.  It’s not the ugly ones that are dangerous.’”

Well, let’s reserve the psychoanalysis and give the author credit for a reasonably well-turned story—but meanwhile, Mr. Spinrad, you might think about putting some women on your space crews.  Three stars.

The Hard Way, by Robert Rohrer

Robert Rohrer’s growing competence suffers a setback in The Hard Way, a one-set psychodrama starring the sadistic Lieutenant Percy, who is delivering several prisoners from a penitentiary on Earth to one on Mercury.  Unfortunately they missed the turn towards Mercury and are heading towards the Sun, to die of heat on the way.  May as well have some fun with it! thinks the Lieutenant, and offers the prisoners a choice between slowly roasting to death and opening the airlock for a faster and cleaner exit.  Contrived, cliched, scenery-chewing.  Two stars, barely, and mainly to distinguish it from the abysmal Sharkey story.

The Handyman, by Leo P. Kelley


by George Schelling

Leo P. Kelley’s The Handyman is a pleasantly inconsequential dystopia about a small town where everything seems pretty nice except for the medical facility, the Hive, which spirits sick people away to its sterile and overlit premises and forbids any medical practice but its own.  Old Doc Larkin must ply his profession covertly, masquerading as a handyman and carrying his instruments concealed in a loaf of bread newly baked by his wife.  Three stars, also barely.

The Men in the Moon, by Robert Silverberg


by Virgil Finlay

The second of Robert Silverberg’s “Scientific Hoaxes” articles is The Men in the Moon, concerning the hoax perpetrated by journalist Richard Adams Locke, who published a series of articles in the New York Sun concerning the observations of profuse flora, fauna, and people on the Moon, supposedly made by famed astronomer William Herschel from his observatory at Cape Town, South Africa.  Herschel was indeed in Cape Town but of course made no such observations and didn’t know Locke was making these claims until years later.  Like its predecessor, it’s an interesting story capably told.  Three stars.

Summing Up

So: another dose of mediocrity from this historic magazine that hasn’t done much of anything for us lately, and owes us big time, at least those of us putting down good money for it each month.  Maybe the Zelazny serial will be its redemption.  Hope springs eternal, but it’s getting tired.



[Holiday season is upon us, and Rediscovery: Science Fiction by Women (1958-1963), on the other hand, contains some of the best science fiction of the Silver Age.  And it makes a great present! Think of it as a gift to friends…and the Journey!





[December 11, 1964] December Galactoscope


by Cora Buhlert

The season of giving is upon us. For women, perfumes like the classic scent Tosca are the most popular gifts, while men tend to find ties, socks and underwear under the tree.

Tosca ad

Personally, I think that books are the best gifts. And so I gave myself Margaret St. Clair's latest, when I spotted it in the spinner rack at my local import bookstore, since I enjoyed last year's Sign of the Labrys a lot. Even better, this book is an Ace Double, which means I get two new tales for the price of one. Or rather, I get six, because one half is a collection of five short stories.

Message from the Eocene by Margaret St. Clair (Ace Double M-105)

Message from the Eocene by Margaret St. Clair

An alien in trouble

The first half is a brand-new science fiction novel called Message from the Eocene. The protagonist, a being named Tharg, is tasked with transporting a cosmic guidebook across hostile territory. The reader learns in the first paragraph that Tharg is not human, because he has a triple heartbeat. Tharg lives on Earth, but the Earth of billions of years ago (long before the Eocene, so the title is a misnomer), a world of volcanos and methane snow, devoid of oxygen. Tharg "breathes" via microorganisms inside his body that break down metallic oxides to oxygenate his blood and has extrasensory perception.

Tharg is in trouble, for a mysterious enemy is trying to thwart his mission. This enemy turns out to be the Vaeaa, a legendary alien race, who are believed to have deposited Tharg's people on Earth in the first place.

Tharg is taken is taken prisoner, but not before he manages to hide the book inside a volcano (it has a protective casing). Under interrogation, Tharg has an out-of-body experience. As a result, his consciousness remains, when his body dies during an escape attempt, to witness the extinction of both his people and the Vaeaa, though the Vaeaa manage to set up a projector on Pluto to keep out further cosmic guidebooks first.

Over billions of years, Tharg's spirit observes life arise and evolve on Earth. Tharg realises that the book might help with his condition, but he has no way to retrieve it. So Tharg decides to ask the Earth's new inhabitants for help. But how to make himself known, considering that Tharg is a bodyless spirit being and never was human in the first place?

Misadventures and miscommunications

Margaret St. Clair
Margaret St. Clair

The rest of the novel chronicles Tharg's attempts to communicate. Tharg's first attempt targets the Proctors, a Quaker family in 19th century England. This goes disastrously wrong, because not only do the Proctors come to believe that their house is haunted – no, Tharg also gets trapped in the house. Taken on its own, the Proctor segment feels like a Victorian ghost story, except that the ghost is a desperate disembodied alien. The insights into the lives of 19th century Quakers are fascinating, but then Margaret St. Clair is a member of the Society of Friends.

Tharg's next attempt targets Denise, who lives with her husband Pierre in a French colony in the South Pacific. Denise has extrasensory perception, making her the ideal subject. But once again Tharg only succeeds in giving Denise nightmares and causing hauntings in the mine Pierre oversees. Worse, the superstitious miners blame Denise for the hauntings. They kidnap the couple and give Denise hallucinogenic herbs to increase her abilities. Now Denise is able to communicate with Tharg long enough to realise that he wants them to recover the book.

So Pierre uses his mining job to blast a hole into a mountain at the very spot where Denise insists the book is hidden. After some trouble with Vietnamese workers – an incident St. Clair uses to explain that oppression during colonial times has left the Vietnamese angry and frustrated, which leads to violence, a lesson that is highly relevant to the situation in Vietnam today – Denise and Pierre manage to retrieve the book. Alas, once they open the protective casing, the book bursts into flame and is destroyed.

Tharg now sets his sights on the projector the Vaeaa installed on Pluto to keep future cosmic guidebooks away from Earth. For if another book were to arrive, Tharg might finally be able to escape his condition.

Sacrifices and success

There is another time jump to 1974, when strange things happen. An experiment detects a purely theoretical particle, a sea captain sees a mermaid, Canadians dance under the Northern lights and a Tibetan monk has a vision. Tharg views these events as signs that another guidebook is on the way. But due to the  projector on Pluto, it will never reach Earth.

In order to shut down the projector long enough to let the book through, Tharg has to dissolve himself in the collective consciousness of humanity, which will also mean his annihilation. So Tharg sacrifices himself and the book is picked up by an expedition to Venus. The novel ends with Tharg waking on the astral plane in a replica of his original body, just as the US-Soviet crew of the spaceship to Venus is about to open the book.

This is a strange and disjointed, but fascinating novel. Though Tharg is one of the rare truly alien aliens of science fiction, he is nonetheless a likeable protagonist and the reader sympathises with his plight. Tharg is also an unlikely messiah, sacrificing himself to assure the future of humanity.

Humanity being uplifted and our minds and bodies evolving is a common theme in our genre. However, Message from the Eocene offers a very different variation on this theme compared to what you'd find in the pages of Analog, even if psychic abilities are involved. The enlightenment offered by the book is reminiscent of both Buddhism and various occult traditions, while its arrival alludes to the so-called Age of Aquarius that astrologers believe will arrive soon.

In a genre that is still all too often peopled solely by white American men, the humans Tharg encounters are of all genders, races, nationalities and religions and all are portrayed sympathetically. For if the alien Tharg does not discriminate based on superficial criteria, then maybe neither should we. It is also notable that even before they receive the book, St. Clair's near future Earth is a more peaceful place than our world, where China has withdrawn from Tibet and the US and USSR cooperate in space.

Message from the Eocene is a story of failed communication, but also a story of evolution and enlightenment and overcoming one's limitations. Given the state of the world today, this may be just the message humanity needs.

Four and a half stars.

Three World of Futurity by Margaret St. Clair

Three Worlds and five stories

Three Worlds of Futurity, the other half of this Ace Double, is a collection of five short stories originally published between 1949 and 1962. The three worlds in question are Mars, Venus and Earth.

Thrilling Wonder Stories December 1950In "The Everlasting Food", Earthman Richard Dekker finds that his Venusian wife Issa has changed after lifesaving surgery. One night, Issa announces that she is immortal now, that she no longer needs to eat and that energy sustains her. Soon thereafter, she leaves, taking their young son with her. Richard takes off after her to get his son back, Issa's human foster sister Megan in tow. After many trials and tribulations, they finally find Issa – only for Richard to lose his wife and son for good. But while Richard is heartbroken, he has also fallen in love with Megan.

"The Everlasting Food" is a curious mix of domestic science fiction in the vein of Zenna Henderson and Mildred Clingerman and planetary adventure in the vein of Leigh Brackett, and never quite gels. I did like Megan, who is described as dark-skinned, by the way, but Issa is hard to connect to and Richard, though well meaning, falls for Megan a little too quickly. Furthermore, the villain feels like an afterthought who comes out of nowhere.

Startling Stories July 1949"Idris' Pig" opens on a spaceship to Mars. George Baker is the ship's resident psychologist. His cousin Bill is a courier and passenger aboard the same ship. When Bill falls ill, it's up to George to deliver the object Bill was supposed to deliver, a blue-skinned sacred pig. However, Bill can only give George very vague instructions about where to deliver the pig and so the pig is promptly stolen. And so George has to retrieve it with the help of Blixa, a young Martian woman. As a result, George gets mixed up with drug dealers and Martian cults, involved in an interplanetary incident and lands in jail. He also completely forgets about the woman he has been trying very hard not to think about and falls in love with Blixa.

This is an utterly charming story, a science fiction screwball comedy reminiscent of Howard Hawks' Bringing Up Baby. A hidden gem and true delight.

Fantastic Universe July 1954"The Rages" is set in an overmedicated Earth of the future. Harvey has a perfect life and a perfect, though sexless marriage. However, he has a problem because his monthly ration of euphoria pills has run out. And without euphoria pills, Harvey fears the oncoming of the rages, attacks of uncontrollable anger, which eventually lead to a final rage from which one never emerges. The story follows Harvey through his day as he meets several people and tries to get more pills. Gradually, it dawns upon both Harvey and the reader that the pills may be causing the very rages they are supposed to suppress. The story ends with Harvey throwing all of his and his wife's pills away.

This is a dystopian tale in the vein of Brave New World and Fahrenheit 541. The future world St. Clair has built is fascinating, if horrifying, and I would have liked to see more of it. However, Harvey is a thoroughly unlikeable character, who almost rapes two women in the course of a single novelette. Maybe Harvey could have rediscovered his messy humanity without resorting to sexual violence.

Galaxy October 1962"Roberta" is the shortest and most recent story, first published in Galaxy in October 1962, reviewed by our editor Gideon Marcus here. Roberta is a confused young woman with the unfortunate tendency to kill men. Robert is the phantom who won't leave her alone. Eventually, it is revealed that Roberta had a sex change operation and that "Robert" represents her former self, as do the men she kills.

Transsexualism is a subject that science fiction almost never addresses, even though our genre is ideal for it. After all, there are transsexuals living in our world right now and science offers possibilities to make it much easier for them to live the lives they want to. So I applaud Margaret St. Clair for tackling what is sadly still a taboo topic (and for having her heroine utter another taboo word, "abortion"), though I am troubled that science fiction's only transsexual heroine (so far) is also a multiple murderer.

Weird Tales September 1952In "The Island of the Hands", Dirk dreams about his wife Joan who died in a plane crash at sea. He hires a plane to check out the coordinates from his dream and crashes on an invisible island. Dirk finds Joan's plane and a dead body and also meets Miranda, a young woman who suspiciously resembles Joan. He is on the Island of the Hands, Miranda informs them, where everybody can shape their heart's desire from mythical mist. Dirk tries to shape Joan, but fails. He spends the night with Miranda, who confesses that Joan is still alive, but trapped in the mist. Dirk goes after her and rescues Joan, only to learn that there is a very good reason why Miranda looks so much like an idealised version of Joan.

It's no surprise that this story was first published in Weird Tales, since it has the otherworldly quality typical for that magazine. "The Island of the Hands" reminded me of the 1948 Leigh Brackett story "The Moon That Vanished", where another heartbroken widower finds himself faced with a magical mist that shapes one's heart's desire.

All in all, this is an excellent collection. Not every story is perfect (though "Idris' Pig" pretty much is), but they are all fascinating and make me want to read more of Margaret St. Clair's work.

Four stars for the collection.


[But wait!  There's more!]



by Gideon Marcus

False Finishes

After such a remarkable pair of books, I hate to sully this edition with less than stellar reviews.  But the year is almost up, and there are a lot of books to get through.  So, here is a trio of novels that start promisingly and then fizzle out. 

The Greks Bring Gifts, by Murray Leinster

If you can get past the punny title, Gifts grabs your interest from the first.  In the near future, the humanoid Greks land in a miles-long spaceship.  They were just sailing by, training a class of Aladarian engineers, and thought they'd pop in to give humanity a myriad of technological gifts.  The aliens are welcomed with riotous joy — after all, soon no one will have to work more than one day a week, and all the comforts of the world will be evenly distributed. 

But one fellow, Jim Hackett, is suspicious.  Despite being a brilliant young physicist, he was rejected as a candidate to learn Grek science after failing to comprehend it.  Was he just not bright enough?  Or were the Greks feeding us gobbledegook to keep us ignorant?  And then, why did the Greks abruptly leave after six months, just as desire for the fruits of their wondrous technology was peaking, but the ability to sate said desire was lacking?  Finally, after the Grek ship had left, why did an archaeologist party find the bones of Aldorians in the ship's waste ejecta?  And worse yet, those of humans?

So Hackett and his fiancee, the capable Dr. Lucy Thale, work together to reverse engineer the Grek technology so that, when they return to a world whose populace is fairly begging for them to come back, Earth can stand against them and provide for its own.

What begins as a fascinating mystery quickly proves overlong.  Leinster is much better with short stories, before his Hemmingway-esque style can wear thin.  The endless repetition of certain phrases and epithets brings to mind the devices Homer used to make The Illiad easier to recite from memory, but they don't do a reader any favors.  As for characterization, Leinster might as well have named the characters A, B, and C for all the color they possess.  A shorter story would have made that issue stand out less.

Anyway, it's an interesting storyline; it would make a good movie, but as is, it's a mediocre novel.  Three stars.

Arsenal of Miracles (ACE Double F-299), by Gardner F. Fox

From the notable pen of comics writer and, now, SF author Gardner Fox, we have a brand new ACE novel.  And this one isn't a short 120-pager.  No, this time we've got 157 pages devoted to the adventures of Bran Magannon, formerly an Admiral of a Terran space fleet, vanquisher of the invading Lyanir, and now a discredited exile, wandering across the known and unknown galaxy.  Arsenal starts off beautifully, like a space age Fritz Leiber fantasy.  A nearly penniless Bran arrives on the desolate world of Makkador to make traveling funds through gambling.  There, he throws dice against, and loses to, the lovely Peganna, queen of the Lyanir.  And then we learn Bran's tragic past: how he divined how to defeat the seemingly invincible Lyanir ships; how he negotiated for the Lyanir to be given a sanctuary world within the Terran Cluster of stars.  How Bran was betrayed by an ambitious subordinate, who sabotaged the talks, discredited Bran, and condemned the Lyanir to inhabit a radioactive wasteland of a planet.

But now Bran has an ace up his sleeve — he has discovered the ancient portal network of the Crenn Lir, a precursor race that once inhabited countless worlds.  If Bran and Peganna can find the Crenn Lir arsenal before they are caught by Terran and Lyranir agents, they might be able to negotiate with the Terrans as equals and secure a sanctuary for the weary aliens.

I tore through the first third of this book, but things slowed halfway through.  I grew irritated that there was exactly one female character in the book, though I did appreciate the natural and loving relationship Peganna and Bran shared.  What promises to be a galaxy-trotting adventure with big scope and ideas ends up a rather conventional story on a very few settings.  Things pick up a bit in the final third, but I found myself comparing the endeavor unfavorably to Terry Carr's Warlord of Kor, a somewhat similarly themed Ace novel from last year.

Three and a half stars.

Endless Shadow (ACE Double F-299), by John Brunner

With the Fox taking up so much space in the Ace Double, the second title must needs be short.  Luckily, John Brunner's Bridge to Azazel, which came out in February's issue of Amazing, fit nicely.  Both lengthwise and thematically: Endless Shadow also features teleportation across the stars, in this case involving a Terra reestablishing contact with farflung space colonies.

The general consensus among the Journey's various readers is that this was a premise with a lot of potential, but that Brunner failed to deliver satisfactorily.  Ratings ranged from two to three and a half stars.  Call it an even three.

Books to Come

These days, there are almost more books coming out than a fellow (or even a band of fellows) can read!  So, to make sure we cover all of the important books of 1964, there will be a second Galactoscope in a couple of days.  May they be more akin to the stellar St. Clairs than the disappointing Leinster/Fox/Brunner.



[Holiday season is upon us, and Rediscovery: Science Fiction by Women (1958-1963), containing some of the best science fiction of the Silver Age, makes a great gift! Think of it as a gift to friends…and the Journey!


[December 9, 1964] Out of Left Field (The Outer Limits, Season Two, Episodes 9-12)


by Natalie Devitt

Only a year ago, I would eagerly wait for the latest from The Outer Limits. These days, being a fan of The Outer Limits has become a bit of rollercoaster ride, with some pretty high peaks, but far too many valleys. For this reason, the most recent entries of the series took me a little bit by (pleasant) surprise. Allow me to elaborate.

I, Robot, by Robert C. Dennis

I, Robot introduces the first two stories of Eando Binder's metal protagonist, Adam Link (Amazing Stories, 1939), to a whole new generation. The episode tells the story of a robot that is so advanced and almost human that he stands trial after being accused of murdering the very scientist who created him, Doctor Charles Link (Peter Brocco of The Twilight Zone’s Hocus-Pocus and Frisby and The Four of Us Are Dying). The “all-functional” machine, is able to read, “to think, to reason, to perform.” Not surprisingly, the robot goes by the name of Adam. It is assumed that the robot killed his creator simply because, “Doc was alone in his lab. Nobody else could have done it.“

Leonard Nimoy of The Twilight Zone’s A Quality of Mercy makes his second appearance on The Outer Limits — this time in a meatier role, after a very minor role in the less-than-stellar OL ep, Production and Decay of Strange Particles. Here, he plays reporter Judson Ellis, reporting on the case, which he refers to as “Frankenstein killed by his own monster.” Charles’ niece, Nina (television actress Marianna Hill), insists that Adam is “kind and gentle,” so she enlists the help of Attorney Cutler (Broadway star Howard Da Silva) at Ellis‘ recommendation. Throughout the trial, Adam insists that an accident caused Doctor Link‘s death, but Adam may be more human that anyone realized. So much so that he and the doctor were seen arguing right before Link’s untimely death.

I, Robot has an intriguing premise and a pretty remarkable cast of characters, which includes robot Adam Link, who has to believable enough for the episode to work. I, Robot could have benefited from slightly more creative photography, though. Another complaint I have is that little Christine Matchett, who is adorable, seems a bit miscast in the role of Evie, the girl who first encounters Adam. I do, however, find the flashbacks of the doctor assembling and training Adam with Nina to be quite charming. I have never been a fan of court dramas, but I may be a bit partial to this entry due to my weakness for references to Mary Shelley‘s Frankenstein (1818), and there certainly are a lot of them. Perhaps too many. In any case, I, Robot is an enjoyable entry of the series, so it receives three stars.

The Inheritors Parts 1 and 2, by Seeleg Lester and Sam Neuman

This two part episode marks Robert Duvall’s second time on The Outer Limits (last season‘s The Chameleon), and he certainly does not disappoint. In The Inheritors, Duvall stars as Mr. Adam Ballard, the Assistant Secretary of Science, who is investigating four soldiers who have been shot in the skull during combat. The men not only miraculously survive, but seem to actually grow smarter as a result of their injuries. Ballard believes that “when the bullet was removed, another brain, an intelligence, got in and took over.” He sets off on a mission to find the “ore from which those bullets were made”, because he suspects that the bullets all came from the same meteoroid and that aliens may have “each man working independently under the compulsion of that brain in his head” on a top secret project.

Like many episodes this season, The Inheritors lacks any type of creature or "bear", and this entry is more than strong enough without one. Besides, Duvall’s Ballard character meets a pretty worthy opponent in Lieutenant Philip Minns (played by Czechoslovakian actor Steve Ihnat). Just superb performances all the way around. The writing does require some suspension of disbelief, but everything is so masterfully told that it almost doesn't matter. A number of scenes are nothing short of exquisite. Everything ends with an unexpectedly uplifting conclusion, which is enjoyable, assuming that you can tolerate an overly sentimental ending. Four stars.

Keeper of the Purple Twilight, by Milton Krims

Warren Stevens of The Forbidden Planet and The Twilight Zone’s Dead Man’s Shoes is scientist Eric Plummer, who is worried about losing funding for a project before he has a chance to finish it. Contemplating suicide, he is stopped by an alien named Ikar, who is capable of vanishing into thin air and also disguising himself as a human being (played by Robert Weber of 12 Angry Men), but is unable to feel human emotions. Eric trades with the extraterrestrial his emotions in exchange for the knowledge he needs to complete his project. Needless to say, things do not go according to plan, and Eric’s relationship with his girlfriend only complicates matters.

Interested in the episode’s title, I was really looking forward to watching Keeper of the Purple Twilight. Sadly, a memorable name is practically all that the episode has to offer. This hour of the program has some nicely atmospheric moments early on and decent special effects, but the episode soon grows less interesting the more things go on. Keeper of the Purple Twilight is filled with unsatisfying writing, wooden performances and incredibly irritating characters. Though, I have to praise the costume design, because all of the aliens are pretty sharply dressed in their crushed velvet suits. Two stars for Keeper of the Purple Twilight.

Things seem to have improved dramatically on The Outer Limits since this time just one month ago. I, Robot was a pleasure to watch, and both installments of The Inheritors were, hands down, the best offerings all month. Even with my complaints about Keeper of the Purple Twilight, this has without a doubt been the strongest month of the second season thus far. I can only hope this is an indication of what is yet to come.



[Join us at Portal 55, Galactic Journey's real-time lounge! Talk about your favorite SFF, chat with the Traveler and co., relax, sit a spell…]




[December 7, 1964] Panic On The Streets Of London (Doctor Who: THE DALEK INVASION OF EARTH)


By Jessica Holmes

Are you ready for the most ambitious serial Doctor Who has yet done? I hope so, because that’s what I’ve got for you today: The Dalek Invasion Of Earth! We’re welcoming Terry Nation back into the writer’s chair, and coming face to face with a familiar foe.

WORLD’S END

A promising title if I ever saw one.

There are two things you’ll immediately notice when this episode starts: one, the bloke with the silly helmet, and two, the great big poster informing us that it is forbidden to dump bodies in the river. Well, I’d have thought that was a given, but I guess not, because without so much as a glance at the poster the man walks down to the water, rips off his helmet, and drowns himself.

Moments after the man’s body goes floating off, the TARDIS arrives, and the gang pile out to see what’s what, and come to the conclusion they’re in London. Probably.

No sooner have they started looking around than there’s a terrible rumble, sending a bridge collapsing on top of the TARDIS. It’s not the most subtle way the gang have been kept in a location long enough for a story to happen, but I’ll take it.

Susan hurts her ankle trying to climb a wall, and being the caring, nurturing grandfather he is, the Doctor scolds her for being irresponsible and threatens her with “…a jolly good smacked bottom.”

Susan is how old, now? Fifteen? Perhaps Sixteen?

I don’t even know what to make of it.

I didn’t take the Doctor as one for corporal punishment. If we pretend the incident with the rock and the caveman didn't happen, he’s pretty pacifistic. So, yes. Weird.

Moving on!

The Doctor and Ian go off to a nearby warehouse in search of cutting tools, and we’re shooting on location again! It’s nice to let the actors stretch their legs. They don’t like being cooped up. In the warehouse, the Doctor finds a calendar, and at last we know the year they've landed in: 2164.

Back by the river, Barbara spots the man from earlier floating in the water, and as she scrambles away, a stranger accosts her, urging her to come with him.

In the warehouse, Ian and the Doctor discover a body, wearing the same strange helmet as the man in the river. The doctor theorises that it’s an ‘extra ear’ for picking up high-frequency radio waves. Upon closer examination, they realise this man was stabbed to death. Things are looking a bit grim in future-London.

The Doctor and Ian can’t disturb the dead for long, as a strange noise outside calls them to the window, where they spot an actual flying saucer.

Why are alien spaceships always saucers? How do they even launch? Do the little green men throw them from a mechanical arm like an intergalactic space frisbee?

Susan and Barbara arrive at some sort of hideout, where they meet a bunch of men who are part of an underground resistance movement. They’re in need of cooks. I am going to be very generous and assume that everyone else is too busy to cook, and that they weren’t just waiting for a woman to turn up so they could have something other than spam.

I’ll get around to introducing people properly when they become relevant to the plot. It’s hard to keep track of names when lots are thrown at you at once. Even harder when everyone talks fast and their diction isn’t quite clear. I did spend longer than I’m proud of referring to each character in my head as ‘that guy’, or ‘that other bloke’.

Up rolls another chap, and I mean that literally because he uses a wheelchair. This is Dortmun, and he’s a scientist. Am I imagining things or are folks who use wheelchairs in sci-fi always the sciency type? Or evil. Or both.

Barbara’s introduced to him with the fact she can cook, and when Susan is asked what she can do, she responds, “I eat.” I wish she was funny like that more often. Sometimes I wonder if the writers forget she’s a teenager, because she doesn’t do much teenager-ish stuff, like this sort of backchat.

Back by the river, Ian and the Doctor spot the ‘no dumping bodies’ poster, and the Doctor’s only comment is that it’s a stupid place to put a poster, under a bridge where nobody’s likely to spot it. Great sense of perspective you have there, Doc.

They don’t get to ruminate on the sign for long, as they find themselves surrounded by a whole gang of men wearing those strange helmets. They don’t look at all friendly. Ian decides to try the diplomatic approach, but all that gets is a bunch of raised whips (of all the weapons, why a whip?) and a droned order for them to stop. The two prepare to jump into the river and swim for it.

However, there's something in the water…

The surface ripples, and out comes a familiar eyestalk, followed by a plunger, and the Doctor and Ian turn to find their way blocked by none other than a Dalek. The reveal is absolutely fantastic, and a delightful/horrifying surprise. Well, if you didn’t know the title of the serial, that is.

Now we’re cooking on gas.

THE DALEKS

The Dalek, having made a suitably dramatic entrance, questions the robo-men (yes, that’s what the men with helmets are called, and yes, I do think it’s a very silly name) as to why these two humans were allowed to get so close to the river. I wonder why they’re so keen on keeping people out?

The Doctor gets lippy as per usual with the Dalek, who informs him that it’s heard that kind of talk before from many different leaders of humans, and all were destroyed. Because the Doctor has more gob than sense, he keeps on taunting the Dalek that you can’t really be the master of Earth unless you’ve killed everything else on it, which seems to get under the Dalek’s metal skin. After all, it’s only the humans they’ve conquered. They’re not the masters of the dung beetle. Or the guinea pigs.

Down in the rebel hideout, we see about a dozen or so members of the resistance. Ah, I’ll let them off on the cooking thing, then. They aren’t all blokes. Mostly, but not all. There’s a very brisk blonde woman who seems to be in a leadership role. She’s Sally.

Meanwhile, Dortmun and Tyler, a resistance fighter, are discussing an attack. Tyler is of the opinion that it’s a stupid idea, doomed to failure. I don’t know. Just climb some stairs and throw rocks at their eyestalks. What are they going to do, scream at you?

Dortmun, however, has perfected a new bomb, that should in theory destroy the Daleks’ outer shells. However, he insists it doesn’t need testing because it works on paper. Sure, Dortmun. That’s how science works. No need to test your weaponry to make sure it a) won’t blow up in your face, and b) will actually kill whatever you want dead.

No wonder the Daleks took over.

Ian and the Doctor arrive at the flying saucer they saw before, where there’s even more Daleks about. Ian is confused, as when they last met the Daleks, they were all destroyed. However, as the Doctor points out, that was about a million years in the future. The Dalek invasion of Earth is a much earlier part of Dalek history. Time travel is fun!

These Daleks have discs on their backs, perhaps accounting for their increased mobility, as if you recall on Skaro they could only move on metal. As an invasion force, they’ve had to adapt. I don’t know why they didn’t keep that adaptation into the future, but there you have it. I mean, there's an obvious Doylist explanation, that being 'the Daleks were meant to be a one-off villain', but that's not as fun as speculating the in-universe reasoning, is it?

Back in the resistance hideout, Susan makes the acquaintance of a young rebel, David. David examines some headgear recovered from dead robo-men, and Jenny explains to Susan that the robo-men were once Dalek prisoners, before they were operated on and turned into mindless drones to aid the invasion. The same thing happened to her brother. However, the effect of the operation eventually wears off, so over time, the robo-men lose their minds and start trying to kill themselves. That’s what the man who jumped in the river was doing. What a truly grim idea.

On the Dalek ship, the Doctor and Ian remark on how impressively built the saucer is, and how inescapable it seems. Or it might just be that they really want the viewer to notice how nice and big and not-made-of-cardboard the set is. Still, the Doctor has hope that he can figure a way out of this mess. However, the Daleks are taking an interest in him, and his clear intelligence.

The Doctor and Ian are shoved in a cell with a man called Craddock, who is a total pessimist, but does give us a lot of useful exposition. Ready? Here we go.

The Dalek invasion of Earth began with a bombardment of meteorites about ten years ago. Then, after the showers had passed, people started dropping dead of some strange new plague, absolutely devastating the human population, and wiping out the continents of Asia, Africa, and South America.

All that remained of human civilisation was divided up into little communities of survivors, too small and spread too far apart to mount any sort of resistance.

Then the saucers started landing, and the Dalek invasion of Earth began in earnest, razing cities to the ground. The few humans left were either captured and made into robo-men, or shipped off to toil in mines.

The only thing they don’t know is why. What is it the Daleks want? For some reason, the Daleks are making humans dig a deep hole in the ground in Bedfordshire. Why Bedfordshire? I don’t know. I don’t even know what’s in Bedfordshire. Bedford, I presume. Look, I’m a northerner; we don’t pay much attention to anything south of Birmingham.

The Daleks make a final ultimatum to the rebel humans. Surrender, and they will be spared. Rebel, and the Daleks will destroy London, and with it all the males, females, and "descendants". Honestly I’m a little surprised there are many kids left in this harsh world. This is a genuinely dark serial, and do you know why? It's because it feels real.

There’s nothing here that hasn’t happened in the real world, only with us it was humans doing it to other humans in the name of land, wealth, or ideology. Genocide, torture, slavery. It's all-too-familiar, and may hit uncomfortably close to home for some viewers.

So, the strike against the Daleks will go ahead as planned. If it succeeds, it might just be the kick up the backside humanity needs to turn the tide of the war.

But how will they get close enough to the Daleks? Barbara has a plan. Some of the rebels will don the robo-men’s headgear, and escort a bunch of 'prisoners' right into the Dalek ship. They won't know what hit them!

In the saucer, Ian finds a Thing. I’ll call it the puzzle-box, because I was puzzled watching the whole thing. There’s a magnet inside, and with some faffing about with a magnifying glass, another magnet, and some light, the Doctor manages to get it out. With the two magnets, he’s able to break the magnetic lock on the cell door. However, his success is short-lived, as it turns out that the Daleks put the puzzle-box in the cell as a test to find prisoners intelligent enough to turn into robo-men.

Night falls, and the rebels prepare to attack, while inside the saucer, the robo-men prepare the Doctor for his operation.

Hold on a moment. I have to adjust my glasses, because unless I’m very much mistaken, I believe some of those Daleks aren’t Daleks at all. In fact, I think they might be cardboard cutouts. They’re in the shadows, but when light passes over them they appear curiously flat. It’s a blink-and-you’ll-miss it thing, so I think it’s quite a clever way to make the invasion force look bigger without breaking the budget.

And the attack begins! Barbara, David and Susan start lobbing bombs, and in the ensuing chaos the rebels slip aboard the ship.

However, the Daleks order the robo-men to proceed with the Doctor’s operation as planned. He’s unconscious, on the table, and the operation is about to begin.

DAY OF RECKONING

These episode titles are quite biblical, aren’t they? I suppose that’s one way to get the kids into church. ‘Go to Sunday School or the Daleks’ll getcha!’

The rebels find and release the Doctor before it’s too late, but an absolutely awful high pitched whistle distracted me from the struggle. I don’t know what the sound effect was supposed to be, but it made my ears very unhappy.

Ian rushes into the ship to help the rebels escape, and Barbara leaps into the fray. What follows is a battle that could do with some more foley work, as there’s no real sense of impact whenever bombs go off or someone gets hit with a Dalek deathray. The ray makes a noise, yes, but not at the point of impact. The result is a scene which looks and feels not like a hard-fought battle with lives on the line, but like a bunch of people throwing themselves around a soundstage.

The music’s annoying too. It’s very repetitive. While repetition can be used to great effect in a score to create a sense of tension, it isn’t here. It's just irritating.

After the battle, most of the rebels are dead or wounded. Dortmun’s bombs were useless. What's worse, Barbara is the only companion to make it back to the rebel hideout. The others are nowhere to be found.

However, Dortmun still has hope for his ultimate bomb. He prepares to head across London to the Civic Transport Museum (the most alluring and exciting of all London’s museums) to work on his weapon.

He’d better be quick about it. The Daleks aren’t going to forgive an attack like that. Their saucer departs, and we spot a member of the missing gang: Ian! He’s alive, for now, and his suit is in surprisingly good condition.

Along comes a robotised Craddock with a rebel prisoner in tow, Larry, and Craddock informs Ian that he’s to be robotised. But Ian's not going down without a fight!

In the struggle, Larry succeeds in ripping Craddock's headgear off, killing him. With the immediate threat dealt with, he and Ian hide the body, and crawl into a hiding space under the floor.

Meanwhile, Susan is alive, and on the run with David. They listen in horror as they hear some unseen survivor running from the Daleks, screaming for the family they killed, and his agonising execution. It’s quite a harrowing scene that has echoes of real, recent history.

Traumatised, Susan proposes to David that he could come with them in the TARDIS, and get away from this horrible invasion. However, he says he can’t just run away. This is his planet. His fight.

It’s a bit of an alien concept to Susan, who has never really belonged in any time or place.

They run into another survivor, and who should he have with him but the Doctor! He doesn’t look too good, but at least he’s alive.

The man drops off the Doctor and hurries on his way. He’s making for Cornwall. It's quiet down there. The weather's pretty nice too. Lovely spot for a summer holiday. He gets about ten paces before running straight into some Daleks.

Elsewhere in London, Barbara and Jenny are helping Dortmun get across the city, which even in the 2200s still isn’t properly wheelchair accessible.

But this sequence is the best part of The Dalek Invasion Of Earth (so far). Why? Well, see for yourself.

Daleks outside the Palace of Westminster. Amazing. Absolutely iconic and I mean that sincerely. I want a poster of this. I want it on a T-Shirt. I want it printed on a mug.

Cue the montage! Daleks in Trafalgar Square! Daleks at the Albert Memorial! This is what location shooting is for. I don’t care if the rest of the series takes place in my shed, it’s worth it to see a Dalek surrounded by pigeons, further proving that Daleks are not the masters of Earth, because pigeons bow to no man, or alien pepperpot.

Unfortunately, we don’t get to see Daleks at Buckingham Palace, which makes me very sad.

Anyway, they get to the museum and Dortmun perfects his bomb, now totally guaranteed to pierce the Dalekenium casing of the Daleks. Bit on the nose, but fair enough.

He’d like to run it by another scientist, though. He’s learned from his earlier mistake. What he needs is a Doctor. Barbara theorises the Doctor might have started heading north to the mines, while Jenny, ever optimistic, is doubtful he’s even alive.

All the same, there’s nothing left for them in London, so the group decide to start making for Bedford. However, before they leave, Dortmun slips away, leaving his notes behind, and goes to face the Daleks. He rises from his chair (yes, ambulatory wheelchair users exist, and I’m glad that the episode doesn’t make a huge deal of it), and lobs his new bomb at the Daleks. They gun him down without hesitation.

I'm not sure if his bomb really worked. There was an explosion, but I couldn't tell if it did any damage. What I’m also unsure of is why he did it. He might have limited mobility but he’s by no means expendable. They don’t even know if the Doctor’s alive! What if there’s nobody to take over his work?

It strikes me as a senseless sacrifice.

Elsewhere in London, the Doctor is regaining some of his mobility. Susan wants to head north to meet with David, but the Doctor would rather head back to the TARDIS, causing them to butt heads as the Doctor questions whether Susan still respects his authority.

David comes back, and reports sightings of Daleks on the river. The Doctor, appearing to have had a change of heart, decides that when he’s more mobile they should start heading north as planned. I’m not sure what changed his mind, but as I think I’ve said before, it’d be a bit of a rubbish story if they just went back to the TARDIS and vworped off whenever they got into trouble.

On the saucer, Ian’s talking to Larry, who mentions something about the Daleks possibly wanting to get at Earth’s magnetic core, as the ship lands. Welcome…to Bedford! It’s not the most exciting spot to pick as the epicentre of an alien invasion, but there you go.

Back in London, some robo-men come along, carrying something heavy. The Doctor, Susan and David have yet to leave, so they hide, and listen, as the large box begins to tick.

It would appear they're sitting right next to a bomb!

So ends this episode, which in all honesty I found a bit limp. Once it was established that the main characters all made it through the battle, most of the plot threads were stuck spinning their wheels, taken up by characters discussing whether or not they should go to Bedford. However, the chase sequence through London saved it and turned it into my favourite of these three episodes.

Final Thoughts

What a serial! This is definitely the most ambitious yet, the sort of story you’d normally only see on film. It has an impressive scope and sense of scale; most stories up to now have only concerned a few dozen people at most. This concerns the future of humans as a species! The Daleks look absolutely great, as does the interior set of the Dalek saucer.

We’ve also got some interesting characters knocking about. Except David. Sorry, Susan, I know you like him, but he’s dull as ditchwater. Sally and Dortmun, on the other hand? I'd be interested in getting to know them better.

I’m going to hold fire on a more in-depth analysis of the story, the world, and the Daleks themselves until I’ve seen all there is to see, but believe me, there’s a lot to dig into here. Not only is this a big story on the surface, I do believe it to be even bigger on the inside. I’m genuinely excited to see where this goes from here, and to come back here and prattle on about it later this month.


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[December 5, 1964] Steady as she goes (January 1965 IF)


by Gideon Marcus

A tale of two missions

Mariner 4, launched November 28, 1964, is on its way to Mars.  Shortly after launch, the smart folks at Jet Propulsion Laboratory (some of whom I met last weekend!) determined that Mariner was going to miss its destination by some 200,000 kilometers.  So they calculated the nudge it would take to deflect the ship toward a closer rendezvous with the Red Planet.  This morning, the little spacecraft was ordered to fire its onboard engines for a 20 second burn, and it now looks like Mariner will come within just 10,000 kilometers of its target!

On the other side of the world, the Soviets have informed the world that their Zond 2 probe, launched two days after Mariner 4, needs no course correction.  On the other hand, on Dec. 2, it was reported that the probe is only generating half the power it's supposed to.

Similarly, in the science fiction magazine world, no fewer than three magazines got new editors this year (Fantasy and Science Fiction, Science Fantasy, and New Worlds), and two of them have the same editor with a different name (Amazing's and Fantastic's Cele Goldsmith is now Cele Lalli).

But in Fred Pohl's trinary system of Galaxy, Worlds of Tomorrow, and IF, not only is leadership unchanged, but so is content.  Nowhere is that clearer than in the January 1965 issue of IF, which like its predecessors, is an uneven mix of old and new authors, old and new ideas, and generally inferior but not unpleasant work. 

In other words, on course, but running on half-steam.

The Issue at Hand


by Gray Morrow

In many ways, this is not the issue Pohl wanted on the news stands.  The cover doesn't illustrate any of the contents of the issue; it's supposed to go with Jack Vance's novel, The Killing Machine.  But since that story ended up in book print before it could be serialized, it was pulled from appearing in the magazine.  Instead, we got the sequel to Fred Pohl's and Jack Williamson's The Reefs of Space, which had the virtue of being an IF-exclusive series and co-written by the editor. 

It's a good thing Pohl had it in his back pocket!

Starchild (Part 1 of 3), by Frederik Pohl and Jack Williamson


by Gray Morrow

Hundreds of years from now, the solar system is ruled by the Plan of Man, a computer-led collective in which everyone's lives are ordered, and dissent is rewarded with a quick trip to the body banks for organ harvesting.  But out in the stellar outskirts, in the frigid birthplace of comets, the steady creation of matter in the universe provides rich feeding grounds for the fusorians.  These cosmic plankton eaters in turn create vast reefs in space, homes to the seal-like spacelings and their predators, the dragonesque pyropods.  These reefs have also become shelters for Terran dissidents yearning to be free.  The Reefs of Space told the tale of their first human visitors.

Starchild is the story of Machine Major Boysie Gann, a spy sent to Polaris station to suss out traitors to the Plan.  He ends up kidnapped to the Reefs and then made a messenger to the Planner, the human liaison with the Planning Machine.  Mysteriously teleported back to Earth, Boysie bears with him The Writ of Liberation: if the Plan of Man does not end its attempts to subjugate the free people of the Reefs, the "Starchild" will blacken the Sun…

I was a bit chary of this serial at the beginning.  Williamson is a pulp writer from the way-back, and it shows.  Pohl can be brilliant, but Reefs was more pedestrian (except for the gripping middle section).  But Starchild kept me going the whole way, sort of a Cordwainer Smith "Instrumentality" story, though with less poetry.

Four stars so far.

Answering Service, by Alma Hill

A Boston fan and writer, Hill is new to my ken but has apparently been published since 1950. Service shows us a world where the SPCA has won, cats and other "aggressive" animals are tolerated only in zoos, and mice are overrunning the world without check.  One man is determined to reverse this situation.

Utterly forgettable.  Two stars.

The Recon Man, by Wilson Tucker


by Nodel

A young man wakes up from an amnesiac coma with a push to his back out the door of a house.  Onto a Heinlein moving road he goes, along with dozens of other male commuters to some mysterious labor destination.  A spitfire, himself, the other drones are so many zombies.  Only the pink jumpsuited women have any personality; they seem to run the show.

The man is harnessed to a machine, tasked with creating bacon by conceptualizing it so it can materialize in front of him.  He soon gets bored with this role and makes neckties and carpentry tools instead.  This shuts down the assembly line early, and one of the female supervisors takes him home to see what's wrong with him. 

Slowly, memories of a fatal car crash, centuries before in 1960, coalesce in the man's mind.  How did he get to this strange world?  For what purpose?  And how long does he have to live?

Recon Man is a neat little mystery with a truckload of dark implications.  I liked it a lot.  Four stars.

Vanishing Point, by Jonathan Brand


by Gray Morrow

This is the second outing by Brand, his first being a disappointment.  He fares better with this one, a space story within a bedtime story (the framing is cute but not particularly necessary) about Earth travelers on the first emissary mission to an alien race.

The place chosen for first contact is a sort of mock-Earth made by the aliens, a beautiful park of a world stocked with all sorts of game.  It even has a centenarian, human caretaker.  But neither the park, nor the old man, are what they seem.

Not bad.  Three stars.

The Heat Racers, by L. D. Ogle

Then we come to our traditional IF "first", the piece by a heretofore unpublished author (or at least an unpublished pseudonym).  This one is a vignette about a race of anti-grav sailboats.  I think.  The motive force and levitative technologies are never really explained.

Another trivial piece.  Two stars.

Retief, God-Speaker, by Keith Laumer


by Jack Gaughan

And last up, we have yet another installment in the increasingly tiresome saga of Retief, the diplomatic superspy of the future.  This one involves a race of money-grubbing, seven-foot, theocratic slobs, and the diminutive, subterranean aliens they mean to wipe out like vermin.  Can Retief establish formal relations with the former while saving the latter?

By the end of the novelette, you probably won't care.  This is easily the goofiest and most heavy-handed entry in the series.  I think it's time for Laumer to cut his losses.

Two stars.

Summing Up

All told, this month's issue is more "half a loaf" than "curate's egg".  The parts I liked were lots of fun, and as for the dreary bits, at least they made for quick reading.  I've said before that Pohl doesn't really have enough good material for three mags, but he could have a dynamite pair.

On the other hand, IF is a place to stick new authors and off-beat stories.  I just wish they were more consistently successes!

Maybe 1965 will be the year IF gets a mid-course correction…



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