Science / Space Race

[February 6, 1966] Hello, Stranger (exploring Space in Winter 65/66)

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You don't want to miss today's Journey Show!  In this first episode of the new season, we'll be talking about comics: Marvel, DC, British, European — and we'll also be discussing the new Batman show.  Y'all come!


by Gideon Marcus

It seems like a mighty long time…

Looming huge on the horizon, shining brightly at zenith, one would imagine that visiting the Moon wouldn't be all that difficult.  But making the 400,000+ kilometer trek has proved one of the hardest feats for humanity to tackle.  Just reaching the vicinity of the Moon took four Pioneers and who knows how many secret Mechtas.  And while the Soviets managed to hit the Moon in 1959 with Luna 2, the United States went through four Pioneer Ables and three Rangers before duplicating the feat in 1962.  It wasn't until last year's Ranger 7 that we managed a fully successful TV crashlanding mission.

But despite early successes, the real heartbreak kings have been the Soviets.  Since their spectacular Luna 3 mission in 1959, which was the first to return pictures from the Far Side, the Russians have failed in at least four attempts over the past year to soft-land on the Moon.

That all changed on February 3, 1966, when Luna 9 settled gently onto Oceanus Procellarum and returned the first pictures from the lunar surface.

Luna 9 was launched on January 31 amid the typical TASS fanfare.  After the prior failures, it was hard to get too excited until the vehicle actually reached the Moon.  Even then, we in the West had to find out about its success second-hand at first.  The Russians are notoriously mum about their missions until it is certain that they worked (or that news of a failure can be properly massaged).

Luckily, the good folks at Britain's Jodrell Bank radio observatory were able to intercept Luna 9's transmissions, thus giving us a pretty good idea of its timeline.  The U.S. Army also listened in on Luna 9's whole trip, though this fact wasn't broadcast initially. 

Per TASS, we know that the spacecraft began its landing sequence about an hour before landing at 1:45 PM EST.  Jodrell Bank confirms that Luna 9 broadcast a stream of pictures for the next 20 minutes followed by a second transmission at 9:00 PM. 

And this is what Luna 9 saw:

In addition to the engineering triumph that the Luna 9 mission represents, it also yielded a bonanza of scientific information.  For instance, we now know that the Moon is not covered by a dangerous quicksand of dust, which was a big concern for the Apollo people.  Luna 9 has also returned valuable cosmic ray data.

Luna 9's chief success, however, has been nationalistic.  After the two Voskhod flights, the Soviets watched helplessly as our Gemini program surpassed their accomplishments by leaps and bounds.  For the moment, the Soviets are once again ahead in at least one aspect of the Space Race.

At least until Surveyor 1 lands in May…

I got my eyes on you

The Moon hasn't been the only Soviet target these past two months. Since December 10, they have launched six "Kosmos" class satellites, almost all of which likely been photographic surveillance craft like our Discoverer series (which we have continued to launch consistently every couple of weeks).  We can tell this from the angle of their orbit, designed to maximize coverage of the West, and the fact that they land in Russia after about a week in space.  Certainly, these "scientific" probes don't seem to return much data — I think Kosmos 41 was the last with any results published in any of the journals I follow, and it was launched in August 1964.

Stormy weather

The same day Luna 9 stunned the world with its pictures, the United States launched a quieter but no less momentous shutterbug of its own.  ESSA 1, also known as TIROS 11, marked the beginning of a new era of weather forecasting.  The prior TIROS satellites were all experimental, despite their unquestioned contribution to our daily forecasts.  The new TIROS is not only better able to provide instant global weather pictures to any station in view at any time from its 700km altitude, it is the first to be managed by the new Environmental Science Services Administration. 

From test product to fundamental government equipment in six years.  Not bad!

The Sun is Shining

Completing the exploration of the Earth/Moon/Sun trinity is Pioneer 6, launched December 16, 1965.  In the tradition of Pioneer 5, Pioneer 6 is a truly interplanetary probe.  Its mission is not to encounter any other celestial bodies but to instead be a solar weather station in an orbit somewhere between that of Earth's and Venus'. 

Its six instruments have been diligently recording long term data on radiation and magnetic conditions out in deep space, thus far reporting that the "solar wind" blows at about 1,000,000 km/h during quiet periods as opposed to three times as much in active times.  The solar magnetic field appears comparatively unfluctuating, accompanied by a relatively low number of charged particles.

Pioneer 6 is the first of five such interplanetary probes planned for launch over the next few years. 

1-2-3

Our last piece of news covers the multiple launch of December 21.  The Air Force has been testing its mighty Titan IIIC, which remains the world's most powerful rocket until such time as the Saturn 1B takes off later this month.  Since science abhors a vacuum, space aboard the mighty booster was used to launch four satellites into orbit at the same time.

These satellites were OV2-3, a radiation studies probe; LES-3 and 4, communications test satellites; and OSCAR 4, a relay broadcaster designed to be used by amateur "ham" radio enthusiasts.  All of these satellites were supposed to be placed in 35,000 km high geosynchronous orbits, circling the Earth about once every day such that they appeared to remain roughly fixed in the sky.  Unfortunately, while the Titan delivered the satellites into a geosynchronous transfer orbit, a final burn never happened.  The four vehicles are thus trapped in a highly eccentric path that zooms up to 30,000 km while retaining an Earth-grazing 170km perigee.

Moreover, OV2-3 never switched on.  LES-3 and 4 appear to work, however, doing top secret work offering data on communications in the UHF and SHF bands.  OSCAR 4 has been less successful, only being used for 12 transmissions; one of them was the first ever satellite-relayed conversation between the United States and the USSR, however!

Man oh man

The space-related excitment won't stop anytime soon.  On February 20, we'll see our first real Apollo mission when the new Saturn 1B launches a full Apollo CSM on a suborbital flight.  And in March, we'll likely see our first docking in space when Gemini 8 goes up. 

Science fiction made real, indeed!




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Science Fiction/Fantasy, TV

[February 4 1966] What A Waste. What A Terrible Waste. (Doctor Who: The Daleks' Master Plan [Part 3])

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By Jessica Holmes

There were times watching this serial when I began to wonder if I would ever be free. I began to fear that long after all has come to dust and the cockroaches inherit the Earth, I’ll still be there, sat in the rubble, praying for the Daleks to get on with it and put me out of my misery.

You might say I’m being overdramatic, and perhaps I am, but I can say with sincerity that I’m thankful this is the last article I have to write for this one serial.

GOLDEN DEATH

The Daleks in their time machine track the Doctor to the Old Kingdom of ancient Egypt, where he’s busy fiddling with the lock on his TARDIS, thinking that the Monk is still on his tail.

Steven notices the Dalek ship arrive at the building site of the Pyramids, and together with Sara goes to investigate. Unbeknownst to them, an Egyptian slave spots their coming, and hurries off to report it to his overseer.

The Doctor’s companions soon realise that it’s not the Monk who has just landed here, but the Daleks. They’re on their way to warn the Doctor when a gang of heavily-armed Egyptian soldiers ambush them.

The soldiers then attempt to accost the Daleks too, but bronze spears and bare chests are no match for ray-guns and armoured plating. The Daleks slaughter most of the soldiers, a small few managing to retreat and regroup.

Meanwhile, the Doctor finishes his repair work, puts on a stupid hat, and indulges in some sight-seeing. It’s not every day you get to see an ancient wonder under construction. He hears the familiar sound of a landing TARDIS, and sure enough out steps the Monk sporting a fashionable pair of sunglasses.

The Doctor then realises that if the Monk has only just landed, then the earlier landing must have been the Daleks!

The Egyptian guards tie Steven and Sara up in a hut, and then make the foolish decision to leave only one soldier to guard them while they go off to do something else.

Meanwhile the Monk to his displeasure comes upon the Daleks. It’s only by Mavic Chen’s intervention that the Daleks don’t immediately shoot him. Unlike the Daleks, Chen’s smart enough to notice that the Monk isn't local.

Chen presses the Monk for information, and the Monk tells him that he’s here to exact vengeance on the Doctor. With their interests aligned, Chen asks the Monk to gain the Doctor’s confidence and retrieve the Taranium core. The Monk agrees, though he doesn’t seem too eager about it.

While all that’s been going on, the Egyptian slaves have been stuffing Pharoah’s tomb full of treasures. The usual stuff like gold, jewels, fancy furniture, a certain police box…

The Monk starts searching for the Doctor, but he won’t find him anywhere near his TARDIS. No, the Doctor is playing mischief with the Monk’s ship. He strips out an important-looking component, and also fiddles with the ship’s cloaking device to make it look like a police box. It’s partly to confuse the Daleks, but I like to think that it’s mostly just because it’s funny to mess with the Monk.

Sara manages to untie herself and Steven, and they take the guards by surprise. Steven's impressed with how good Sara is in a fight. Well, I should hope so, given that killing people was basically her job for much of her life.

The Doctor confronts the Monk in Pharoah’s tomb, and the Monk ‘warns’ the Doctor about the Daleks, urging him to hand over the Taranium before someone gets hurt. The Doctor responds only with a laugh as he advances on him.

Steven and Sara arrive some time later to find no sign of the Doctor. As they wonder what has become of him, a nearby sarcophagus slides open, and a figure wrapped in cloth begins to emerge…

ESCAPE SWITCH

Steven and Sara look on in amazement as a groaning figure emerges from the great stone coffin. Is it the mummy’s curse? Nah, it’s the Monk!

But if he’s here, where’s the Doctor?

Steven and Sara help the Monk out of his wrappings as he claims that he was only trying to warn the Doctor. Oh, and he’s coming down with a bit of a headache, so if Steven could just open the TARDIS door for him that would be very much appreciated. Steven wasn’t born yesterday, so they take the Monk with them to look for the Doctor.

Rather than the Doctor, they end up finding Chen and the Daleks. The Monk wastes no time turning his coat once again and offering Steven and Sara as hostages to draw the Doctor in.

Meanwhile, the Egyptians realise their prisoners have gone missing, but can’t go after them without risking the war machines.

On the Dalek ship with Steven and Sara, the Monk explains to the irate pair that he didn’t actually betray them. The Daleks were about to kill them all, so the Monk offering them as hostages kept them alive for just a few more minutes. It’s certainly plausible, but I can’t blame Steven and Sara for not wanting to trust him as far as they could throw him.

Chen broadcasts an ultimatum from the Dalek ship, ordering the Doctor to come running pronto with the Taranium, or else.

Left with no choice, the Doctor comes to meet the Daleks, and sets up a rendezvous where he’ll hand over the core in exchange for the release of all prisoners, including the Monk. One Dalek only, no bloodshed needed. Of course the Daleks are bad at following instructions as several turn up to the meeting.

However, the Egyptians, having also heard the message, have plans of their own.

The Doctor insists the prisoners be set free first, to which the Daleks agree. He then hands the Taranium over to Chen, running for cover just as the Egyptians attack the Daleks from behind. You can’t fault them for bravery, I suppose.

It doesn’t go brilliantly for the Egyptians, but they do manage to trap one Dalek and encase it in bricks, and the whole stunt creates enough of a distraction for the Doctor and his companions to slip away and regroup. They’ve lost the Taranium core, but on the plus side the Doctor stole the directional unit from the Monk’s TARDIS, so they have a chance of getting back to Kembel and stopping the Daleks once and for all.

The Monk gets back to his own TARDIS, getting safely away from the Daleks. Good for him, he’s much too fun to kill off. He does end up stranded in some frozen wasteland though, so I doubt we'll be seeing him any time soon.

The Daleks are initially frothing at the mouth to catch the Doctor, but Chen points out to the short-tempered tin cans that they have what they came to get.

The Doctor installs the stolen component to his own TARDIS, unsure if it will work, as the Monk has a more up-to-date model. Still, it’s the best chance they have, so he bids Steven to throw the switch–

And the control room vanishes in a flash of blinding white light.

THE ABANDONED PLANET

The Daleks return victorious to Kembel, accompanied by an insufferably smug Chen. The Doctor meanwhile fears that the directional unit has failed to get them where they need to go.  We’re spared a plot derailment by the realisation that the view outside looks an awful lot like Kembel, so it would seem they made it after all.

Imagine how much longer this serial would be if they hadn’t. It’d probably be another three episodes at least.

Now for the most exciting thing in the world: a cabinet meeting! The Galactic Council convenes to have a good natter and complain and grumble at each other. They note the absence of Chen and are about to kick him out of the Evil Aliens Club when he swans in acting like he’s the best thing since sliced bread. His Imperial Smugness proceeds to be so insufferable that the gang are on the verge of tearing him apart with their bare hands/claws/tentacles. Then he shoots one of them dead. Not the best way to make friends, I’d have thought.

Outside, Steven and Sara traverse the jungle, noting that there don’t seem to be any Varga plants around, and no Daleks either for that matter. Where could they have disappeared to?

Chen manages to get the Council to sit down and shut up, and they’re about to start discussing the matter of sharing power after the invasion (bit last-minute to be discussing that, I would have thought) when the Daleks show up and spoil the party.

Steven and Sara double back to the TARDIS, but the Doctor’s nowhere to be found. They go back again to look for the Dalek city. Well, that was a bit pointless.

The Daleks have taken the Council into custody, and are planning to destroy the city as they start their conquest. I’m not really sure why. If they want the Council dead they could just shoot them. They’re in a cell; it’d be like shooting rats in a bucket. Not that I’d ever do that, of course. I like rats.

Steven and Sara find the city apparently abandoned. They manage to just walk right in all the way to the central control room where the Dalek time machine sits unattended. Thinking that the Daleks must have the Doctor, they plan to commandeer the machine (never mind that they can’t work the thing) and use it as leverage to get him back. However, their message reaches not the Daleks, but the imprisoned Council. It took them a while to find a scrap of moral backbone, but by the time Steven and Sara reach them they’re eager to mobilise against the Daleks and defend their galaxies.

Steven and Sara agree to release them, and they all scurry off as fast as their spaceships can carry them, all except for one… Chen. They’re wondering what’s taking him so long when his ship blows up shortly after takeoff.

I was ready to throw a brick through the television at this point. I was not going to let them kill Chen without me even getting to see the look on his face.

With Chen apparently out of the picture and the Doctor nowhere to be found, it’s up to Steven and Sara to find a way to stop the Daleks. They spot a lone Dalek entering an underground tunnel, and are about to go after it when Chen shows up alive and well and carrying a gun.

Still planning on being the master of the universe, Chen orders Steven and Sara into the underground base.

DESTRUCTION OF TIME

Chen reveals to Steven that he too came back to find the Doctor. Not out of any sense of altruism, mind you. He believes the Doctor seeks to usurp Chen’s position with the Daleks. Chen, they threw you in a cell. You don’t have a position with the Daleks any more.

They get themselves taken prisoner very quickly.  Unlike the above ground city, the underground base is very much occupied. Because he hasn’t realised that to the Daleks he’s nothing more than a useful idiot, Chen gets his knickers in a twist because these are HIS prisoners. Apparently humouring him, the Daleks tell Chen to escort ‘his’ prisoners to the Dalek Supreme.

In a move that comes as a shock only to Chen, the Dalek Supreme states that their alliance has ended. When Chen gets it into his head to start ordering the Daleks around as if he himself was their leader, they completely ignore him. Growing desperate, he shoots at the Dalek Supreme. It doesn't work.

Finally realising how much trouble he’s in, Chen runs for his life, yelling some nonsense about being immortal. Guess the pressure finally got to him.

The Doctor finally turns up, emerging from the shadows like some film noir hero. He hands Steven the key to the TARDIS, urging him to take Sara there once he gives the signal. Why? He’s going to activate the Time Destructor.

The Daleks catch up to Mavic Chen and finally wipe the smug look off his face, shooting him dead and leaving his corpse in the corridor. They come back to find the Doctor tinkering with the Time Destructor, realising with horror that they can’t fire on him without destroying it.

Using a Dalek as a shield, the Doctor and his companions back towards the exit. Once they’re out, the Doctor tells Steven and Sara to run. Steven obeys without a second thought (gee, thanks) but Sara stops, unwilling to leave the Doctor to his fate.

Sara and the Doctor make their way to the TARDIS, carrying the activated Time Destructor, as the Daleks make their pursuit.

Steven makes it safely back, but the Time Destructor is taking its toll on the Doctor and Sara. In a matter of minutes, Sara appears to have aged several decades. The Doctor doesn’t seem to be as badly affected, but perhaps that’s because he is already fairly old.

Over the next few cuts, Sara looks older and older in each one, horrifyingly withering away before our eyes.

Severely weakened by the device, the Doctor drops it, and moments later the lush forest is reduced to a barren waste. Seeing the pair on the TARDIS scanner, Steven comes running out to help, but despite his efforts he cannot deactivate the Time Destructor. Nearby, he finds Sara’s skeletal remains, moments before they crumble away into dust.

Now that’s what I call scary! Where has THIS been all serial? Sure the Daleks can zap you and that’s not much fun but it doesn’t really evoke the true horror of the Time Destructor. It’s an awesome superweapon and I’m a bit disappointed it gets as little screen time as it does.

Somehow the Doctor is still alive, which leads me to wonder if he has a much longer natural lifespan than Sara. We know he’s technically an alien, because he isn’t from Earth, but how alien?

He’s not pleased to see Steven outside the TARDIS, and yells at him to get back in before he gets himself killed. Starting to feel better, the Doctor manages to return to the TARDIS, and is virtually back to normal once he makes it inside. However, outside the Time Destructor is still working its purpose, but time is no longer flowing faster than it should. It’s flowing backwards.

The Daleks catch up, and they too attempt to destroy the Time Destructor, to no avail, as it strips away their armour, aging them down, down, down until there’s nothing left but jellyfish-like Dalek embryos writhing in agony in the dust.

I should make a list of the most disturbing fates ever to befall a character on Doctor Who. This would go at the top, I think.

The device finally ceases to work, the Taranium core having burnt itself out. The Doctor and Steven emerge from the TARDIS to survey the damage. There’s absolutely nothing left outside. Alone in the desolate wastes, they mourn Sara, wishing that she could have seen the destruction of the Daleks. Steven is more than ready to leave, having made and then lost so many friends in this fight against the Daleks. Somberly, the Doctor agrees.

“What a waste. What a terrible waste.”

You said it, Doc.

Final Thoughts

We made it! The road was long and hard, and oh how we suffered. Well, I did most of the suffering. You just read about it.

Where do I even begin?

I think the most obvious thing to address is how ridiculously bloated this serial is. It desperately needed vast structural edits, and while I know television is made on a tight schedule, it would have been better to push the serial back to later in the series if it needed more time to fix. The plot meanders, doubles back on itself, and sometimes plain goes missing for whole episodes at a time. It suffocates under a pile of not-very-interesting subplots. Hordes of characters run around, and I can recall very few of their names, let alone any element of their personalities.

I can only describe it as a mess. I can’t even think of simple fixes for all this. If I was editing this, I would tear this whole story down to its very foundations and rebuild from there.

It irritates me, because I can see the skeleton of a potentially excellent story in here. There are some fun ideas and lots of potential for interesting twists and turns, but it’s all for naught.

It’s not that I do not enjoy a sprawling plot; I happen to be very fond of The Lord Of The Rings, and you don’t get much more sprawling than that. However, while those fantasy novels sprawl with purpose (for the most part), this story meanders about like a confused British tourist wandering a foreign grocery shop in search of teabags.

The other big problem is with the character development. This is a long serial. I will leave Steven and the Doctor alone, because they do seem changed by their experiences.

I am going to first pick on Sara. Here we have a woman who is so loyal to her superiors that she kills her own brother without question or remorse. Here is a woman who has been indoctrinated all her life to follow Chen. She is ruthless and deadly enough to have become the SSS’ top agent. Weighing all this in mind, does it sound like organic development to have her fully switch sides after one little scolding from some blokes she’s only just met? And a couple of episodes later, everyone, Sara included, seems to have forgotten about Bret.

Then there’s Mavic Chen. I’ve already covered the highly questionable makeup. For the most part, he was fine, if not terribly interesting. Great, he wants to rule the universe, him and every other B-movie villain out there. And then comes his decline. Well, I don’t think decline is the word. This isn’t a man spiraling as he desperately clings to power, it’s more like he swan-dives off the cliff of sanity.

Aside from that I don’t think there’s enough for me to chew on for me to talk about any other characters. There’s practically a revolving door of side-characters, of whom I can only remember Bret (who was pretty cool) and Katarina (who I definitely think was under-used). The Galactic Council seemed pointless to me. Chen was the only one among their number that the Daleks actually needed for access to the Taranium. I don’t know their names, and I couldn’t give a fig about it. They could have done with being cut from the serial entirely, or re-written to make them actually matter to the overall plot.

We’re not going to talk about the Christmas episode.

I think the Doctor sums it up best: it’s a waste. This serial could be so much better. I had high hopes after the unexpectedly dark and serious prologue episode Mission To The Unknown. I do admire the ambition and there’s a lot of creativity on display. Sadly, however, I think my favourite parts of the serial only came at the very end. I have a soft spot for the Monk (he’s just so much fun!), and the Time Destructor was awesome to behold. For the rest of the serial however I’m afraid that it rather fell short of my expectations.

At least you no longer have to listen to me moaning about it. We’ve got what looks to be a historical serial coming up next time, and I for one will be very glad for a change of pace.

2 out of 5 stars




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Fashion, music, politics, sports

[February 2, 1966] Death in the Fields: The Lufthansa Flight 005 Crash

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by Cora Buhlert

News accounts of plane crashes have become an almost monthly litany.  But it is not often that one finds themselves a first-hand witness to disaster.  Journeyer Cora Buhlert had that unfortunate opportunity last week…

Fields on Fire:

Bremen airport postcard
A postcard of Bremen Airport

On January 28, 1966, I was driving back from downtown Bremen to my home in the village of Seckenhausen just outside Bremen. It was a typical winter evening in North West Germany, rainy, stormy and cold with a low cloud cover and little visibility.

I was driving along the Kladdinger Straße, a meandering country road that connects the Bremen neighbourhood of Grolland to the village of Stuhr, and had the car radio on, because I was waiting for the seven PM news, which were about to start. The area in question is deserted at the best of times. It's mostly fields and meadows stretching along the shores of the river Ochtum as well as the tiny village of Kuhlen, really just a few farmhouses and a roadside inn. A bit further, beyond the river, lies the runway of Bremen airport. However on that night, this lonely stretch of road was surprisingly busy. People were standing outside the farmhouses of Kuhlen and the roadside inn in the pouring rain, all staring at something in the distance.

Puzzled, I drove onwards and quickly saw just what the people of Kuhlen were all staring at. Because just beyond the road, there loomed a wall of flame. An entire field was on fire and the flames had also engulfed an old barn by the roadside. However, it was winter, the field was barren and it was raining, so how could there possibly be such a huge fire?

Stuhr volunteer fire brigade
The Stihr volunteer fire brigade with its two engines.

I did not stop to investigate – it was a very big fire – but stepped down on the accelerator to get to the village of Stuhr and call the fire brigade from a public phonebox there. However, before I could make it to the village, I saw the engines of the Stuhr volunteer fire brigade coming towards me, sirens wailing. Those weren't the only fire engines I passed that night nor the only sirens I heard. It was as if every fire brigade in the entire county had been alerted. As happens so often, the sirens and fire engines also attracted spectators and so I saw several cars and people on bicycles heading towards the fire that I had been so eager to leave behind. Whatever had happened in that lonely field just off Kladdinger Straße, it must have been bad.

It was not until I got home and listened to the eight o'clock news that I learned what had happened. For it turned out that a Lufthansa plane en route from Frankfurt to Hamburg had crashed while attempting to land at Bremen airport just before seven PM, only minutes before I drove past the crash site.

Crash site map
A sketch of the crash site that appeared in the local newspaper.

Roaring engines and rattling windows:

Worried, I immediately called my aunt and uncle to check if they were okay. Because my aunt and uncle live in a house so close to the airport that they could wave at the plane passengers from their kitchen window, if they wanted to. To my relief, they were fine, but then they live on the other side of the airport from crash site. They also reported that their dinner at shortly before seven PM had been interrupted by the roar of a plane engine that was louder than usual, so loud in fact that the windows and doors and even the cups and saucers on the kitchen table rattled. Then the noise suddenly stopped for a heartbeat or two, before it was followed by a loud boom. And come to think of it, I had heard the same hollow boom a few minutes before I drove past the burning field.

Lufthansa 005 crash site
Chaos at the crash site.
Lufthansa 005 crash site
More chaos and fire at the crash site

By the following morning, I learned the sad truth. The crash of Lufthansa flight 005 from Frankfurt to Hamburg via Bremen had cost the lives of everybody on board, forty-two passengers and four crewmembers. Nine passengers were Italian, one was Dutch, one was American, the rest were West Germans. It is the fourth crash of a Lufthansa plane since the reestablishment of the airline in 1954 and the worst to date.

A Sequence of Unfortunate Events:

Lufthansa Convair CV-440 Metropolitan
The Lufthansa Convair CV-440 Metropolitan that crashed in Bremen photographed at Düsseldorf airport last year.

Now, four days on, we have at least a few clues regarding what caused the tragedy in the field just off the Kladdinger Straße. The eight-ear-old Convair CV-440 Metropolitan had entered its final approach to Bremen airport and everything seemed normal, in spite of the low visibility and heavy tail-wind. The cockpit windows may have been iced over as well. The fact that Bremen airport does not yet have a radar system and is not scheduled to be equipped with one until 1970 may have played a role as well.

Lufthansa 005 crash site aerial view
This aerial view of the Lufthansa flight 005 crash site shows the scale of the destruction.

However, once the plane emerged from the low cloud cover, Captain Heinz Saalfeld must have realised that he had overshot the runway, probably due to a defective instrument. He began a go-around manoeuvre only ten metres above the runway and tried to pull up the plane again, though he did not inform the traffic control tower of his intentions. The last time that the tower attempted to contact flight 005 was at 6:50 PM. One minute later, the aircraft crashed. Most likely, Captain Saalfeld and co-pilot Klaus Schadhoff pulled up the plane too quickly, so that the aircraft stalled and crashed into the field just off the runway.

Upon start in Frankfurt, the Convair 440 had been fully fuelled with 3200 litres of kerosine, much more than would have been necessary for the flight to Bremen or Hamburg. The reason for this was that because of the bad weather in North Germany, the pilots wanted to have enough fuel on board to reach an alternate airport in case landing in Bremen or Hamburg would not be possible. Upon impact, the remaining approximately 2500 litres of kerosine on board ignited, causing the massive fire I saw a few minutes later.

Lufthansa 005 crash site
Sifting through the wreckage of the Lufthansa flight 005 crash.

Scenes of Horror:

The airport fire brigade as well as several fire brigades from Bremen and the surrounding villages needed forty minutes to extinguish the flames. Once they did, they found themselves faced with scenes of pure horror.

My neighbour Heini Meier is a member of the Seckenhausen volunteer fire brigade, which was called in to help with the fire fighting and rescue efforts. Only to find that there was no chance of rescuing anybody, because everybody on board had died during impact.

Lufthansa flight 005 crash site
Sifting through the wreckage of the Lufthansa flight 005 crash.

Some of the first people on site, such as a group of teenagers celebrating a birthday in one of the nearby farmhouses and a man walking his dog along the river Ochtum reported that when they reached the crash site, they saw dead passengers still buckled into their seats.

However, by the time Heini Meier made it to the crash site with his fire engine – after being forced to chase spectators out of the way – there were no recognisable bodies left. He did wonder about gleaming spots on the ground in the stark glow of the searchlights. Only when the sun rose the next morning did he realise that he had been walking on charred bodies and that the gleaming he'd noticed in the dark was caused by the jewellery, watches and belt buckles of the dead reflecting the searchlights.

Sifting through the wreckage of the Lufthansa flight 005 crash
Sifting through the wreckage of the Lufthansa flight 005 crash.

By daylight, the sight was so horrible that even hardened veteran fire fighters who had lived through World War II were shocked. But the grim work was particularly hard on the young fire fighters and the teenaged volunteers of the West German federal disaster relief organisation THW who had been tasked with recovering the bodies. Even the ladies of the Delmenhorst Red Cross station who had been sent to Bremen to provide the helpers with coffee and sandwiches were not spared the horrible sights, because they had to pass through the makeshift morgue to deliver food to the helpers.

Body recovery Lufthansa flight 005
A grim task: Young volunteers of the West German federal disaster relief organisation THW recover the bodies of the victims of flight 005.
THW helpers relaxing
Three young THW volunteers are taking a well-deserved break from the grim work of body recovery.
Red Cross helpers
The ladies of the Delmenhorst Red Cross station kept the helpers supplied with coffee and sandwiches.

Because of the intense fire, the dead were burned almost beyond recognition and molten nylon from clothing and upholstering was fused to the bodies. Not all of the bodies were still in one piece either. Identifying all of the passengers and crew based on dental records and personal effects will still take weeks, if not longer.

The Victims of Flight 005

But even though many of the bodies have not yet been identified, we know who the people on board of flight 005 were. So here are the stories of some of them:

Pilot Heinz Saalfeld was 48 years old, an experienced veteran who had been a fighter pilot in World War II and had been flying for Lufthansa since 1957.

Co-pilot Klaus Schadhoff was 27 years old and only got his license last year. He trained at the Lufthansa flight school here in Bremen and was hoping to meet his fiancée during the stopover.

27-year-old Lufthansa stewardess Heide Bitterhof was not supposed to be on flight 005 at all. She only switched shifts at the last minute with a colleague who was suffering from a bad toothache.

Another Lufthansa stewardess, 23-year-old Maria Wolf was on leave and wanted to visit her family in the village of Brinkum, only three kilometres from where she died in the field off the Kladdinger Straße.

Ada Tschechowa
Ada Tschechowa in the 1930s.

49-year-old actress Ada Tschechowa was a film and theatre legend. Her mother was the German-Russian silent film star Olga Tschechowa, her great-uncle was none other than the great Russian playwright Anton Chekhov. Ada's daughter Vera has also joined the family business. She has been acting since her teens and even dated Elvis Presley for a while, much to the chagrin of her mother. Ada Tschechowa had largely retired from acting and worked as an agent. She only boarded flight 005 at the very last minute on a VIP ticket, because she wanted to visit her friend, actor Norbert Kappen who was shooting the TV-show Hafenpolizei (Harbour Police) in Bremen.

Ada Tschechowa and Elvis Presley
Ada Tschechowa pours Elvis Presley a glass of milk when he briefly dated her daughter Vera in 1958.
Ada Tschechowa and Elvia Presley
If you're going to date Ada Tschechowa's daughter, you'd better wear a tie, as Elvia Presley found out.

Dr. Hans Schröter, Bernhard Huber and Helmut Stiller were three managers of the AEG household goods and engine factory in Oldenburg. They were on their way back from a business trip.

Kurt Rosiefsky was a Bremen cotton merchant. He, too, was on his way back from a business trip.

41-year-old Friedrich-Karl von Zitzewitz was a member of an aristocratic family that can trace its lineage back to the 12th century. His father was involved in the resistance against the Third Reich and was arrested in connection with the failed assassination attempt on Hitler on July 20, 1944.

Dr. Karl Suchsland was a specialist in the field of material and production science who wrote a seminal paper about wood glue bonding. He was on his way home to Hamburg.

Italian victims of flight 005
The nine Italian victims of Lufthansa flight 005: swimmers Bruno Bianchi, Dino Rora, Sergio De Gregorio, Luciana Massenzi, Carmen Longo, Amedeo Chimisso and Daniela Samuele, coach Paolo Costoli and reporter Nico Sapio.

Also on board of flight 005 were seven members of the Italian national swim team as well as their coach Paolo Costoli and the Italian TV reporter Nico Sapio. The young Olympic hopefuls Bruno Bianchi, Dino Rora, Sergio De Gregorio, Luciana Massenzi, Carmen Longo, Amedeo Chimisso and Daniela Samuele were between 17 and 23 years old. The Italian swimming team was not supposed to be aboard flight 005 either. However, their flight from Milan to Frankfurt was delayed due to bad weather, so the team had to take a later flight.

The young Italian swimmers were supposed to compete in the 10th International Swim Festival at the Zentralbad in Bremen. The swimming competition did start two days later with a minute of silence for the dead and flowers placed upon the starting blocks. But the mood at the normally cheerful event was muted by the mourning for the Italian team and the other passengers of flight 005.

Zentralbad Bremen
The Bremen Zentralbad indoor pool, where the Italian swim team was supposed to take part in the 10th International Swim Fest.

Rumours, Suspicions and Speculations:

As always, when something terrible and unexplained happens, speculations were soon running high and the rumour mill was spinning in overdrive.

Did Captain Saalfeld suffer a heart attack during the failed go-around manoeuvre and is this why he did not reply to the hails of the tower?

What about the mysterious pliers that were found at the body of co-pilot Klaus Schadhoff? Was Schadhoff trying to carry out some last second repairs during a risky flight manoeuvre? And where did he get the pliers, since Lufthansa has confirmed that they were not part of the onboard tool kit?

Another persistent rumour is that the pliers belonged to one of the passengers and that this passenger stormed the cockpit and attacked the pilots during the final approach. After all, the body of co-pilot Klaus Schadhoff was found several metres away from Captain Saalfeld, entangled with the body of a still unidentified male passenger. Was Schadhoff engaged in a desperate struggle in those final few seconds of flight 005? Is this why neither Saalfeld nor Schadhoff responded to the hails of the tower?

My neighbour Heini Meier believes that even though the above makes for an exciting story for the tabloids, it's very likely wrong, because the impact was so strong that bodies, aircraft fragments, luggage and personal effects were all jumbled together at the crash site. The mysterious pliers might have been hurled out of someone's luggage and the passenger whose body was found entangled with that of the co-pilot may not have been wearing his seatbelt and was therefore thrown out of his seat upon impact.

Lufthansa flight 005 crash site
While helpers are still sifting through the wreckage of the Lufthansa flight 005 crash, another Lufthansa plane flies overhead.

Technology to the Rescue?

Part of the reason why it's so difficult to determine what exactly happened during those fatal final minutes aboard flight 005 is that the Convair 440 was neither equipped with a flight data recorder nor with a cockpit voice recorder, even though the technology has been in existence for more than ten years now and cockpit voice recorders are already mandatory in Australia and the US.

Would a flight data and cockpit voice recorder have prevented the crash of flight 005? No, but they would have helped accident investigators to determine what exactly the cause of the crash was and how to keep it from happening again.

Another question is if the crash could have been prevented, if Bremen airport had already been equipped with a radar system. And in fact, I find it shocking that Bremen airport still doesn't have a radar system and won't get one until 1970, even though we are prone to bad weather and low visibility conditions. Because even if a radar system could not have prevented the crash itself, it could have kept Captain Saalfeld from overshooting the runway, which was the reason for the fatal crash in the first place.

The crash might also have been averted, if the runway at Bremen airport had been longer, so that Captain Saalfeld could have landed on the first attempt. And indeed, there are plans to extend the runway and expand the airport in response to the growth in air traffic. With jet planes becoming increasingly common and supersonic air travel imminent, expanding the airport and extending the runway seems like the path forward.

However, there are problems. Bremen airport was opened in 1920 and in the forty-six years since then, the city has steadily encroached upon the airport. So the only way to expand is towards the south west, where the river Ochtum is in the way. There are proposals to move the river Ochtum and the Kladdinger Straße, but those plans will take years, if not decades to become reality.

In spite of tragedies like the flight 005 crash, air travel is still the safest form of travel. However, technology can help to make air travel even safer and maybe even prevent such tragedies in the future.

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Magazine

[January 31, 1966] Milk of Magnesia (February 1966 Analog)

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by Gideon Marcus

Hornet's Nest

Last month, I wrote a rather savage review of the January 1966 issue of Analog, one of the more egregious examples of Campbellian excess married with an aggrieving nadir of quality.  In short order, my mailbox was deluged with denouncing letters asserting that:

  • Campbell, as the genius who founded modern Science Fiction, could do no wrong
  • I clearly could never understand why people appreciated Analog

It is instructive that when I give an issue of Analog a favorable review, which happens reasonably often, my mailbox stays empty.  But disparage the mighty Campbell at your peril!  Such are the occupational hazards of the Reviewer.

Anyway, what goes down must come up, and this month's issue of Analog is actually pretty good.  Let's take a look at the final mag of the month, shall we?

The issue at hand


by Kelly Freas

The Searcher, by James H. Schmitz

Two guards at an interstellar space port watch with momentary horror as a purple cloud of radiation erupts from a star yacht and devours them in an instant.  The alien marauder has traveled light years, from the dense nebula known as The Pit, in search of a purloined navigational beacon.  Meanwhile, a local professor with an eye to make a buck, is preparing to fence said beacon, hoping to do so before two private agents hired by the University League thwart his plans.

Thus ensues first a cloak and dagger story followed by a crime thriller and topped off with a mad chase from alien horror.


by Kelly Freas

I was excited to see James H. Schmitz' name on the cover as he's written some of my favorite works.  He also has a preference for writing women protagonists, which is refreshing. I'm afraid my review of this piece must be somewhat alloyed.  The concept is great, the characters are interesting, and I enjoyed the piece.  But.

I think the biggest problem with The Searcher is its length.  Had this been a novel length story, Schmitz could have unfolded the mystery of the alien's existence and motivations more organically, rather than relying on straightforward exposition.  We get a lot of solid chunks of explanation interspersing the action.  And it's certainly not the case that Schmitz can't write action; he does so quite admirably, beginning with the very first scene. 

Had I received this manuscript, I'd have asked for an expanded rewrite — and been happy to publish it!

As is, it's a promising but uneven three star work.

The Switcheroo Revisited, by Mack Reynolds


by John Schoenherr

A rather bumbling young Lieutenant in the KGB is dispatched to the United States to find a marvelous invention first depicted in the pages of a science fiction magazine (name unknown, but I think it starts with an A).  He's intercepted by the CIA, but rather than simply arrest him, instead they do their best to convince the agent that the fictional invention is real.  There's a cautionary sting at the end of the story.

Cute, but rather trivial for Reynolds.  I do enjoy how the author has woven a future history of the Superpowers, though, based on his extensive world travels.  The geopolitics and slang lend a tang of verisimilitude. Three stars.

Twin-Planet Probe, by Lee Correy

This is a fun piece that purports to report the results of the first Martian probe to the twin worlds of Earth and Luna, written so as to mirror the sparse and potentially misleading data obtained from Mariner 4.  The moral of the story is that we don't have enough data to make sweeping conclusions yet.

Four stars (and let's get some more data!)

An Ornament to His Profession, by Charles L. Harness

Patrick Conrad, once a chemist, later an attorney, and now a patent lawyer, is a haunted man.  Three years ago, he lost his chemist wife and their young daughter in a car accident.  This trauma has left him in something of a working daze, redoubling his vocational efforts in an effort to put the pain out of his mind.

His current problem: the patenting of a company chemical is threatened from several corners, most trivially by the impending poaching of Conrad's highly efficient secretary by another department, more seriously by a key team member's certainty that he has made a deal with the Devil to ensure success of the chemical's synthesis, and most critically by the revelation that the patent is based on a previously published college thesis.

Conrad must untangle all of these intertwined issues, all while wrestling with the pain of loss that seems also to be directly involved with the patent somehow.


by Kelly Freas

While Charles Harness is a name that may be unfamiliar to you, as it is a byline that has not appeared in more than a decade, Analog readers will certainly remember "Leonard Lockhard", a pseudonym for the combined talents of Harness and Theodore L. Thomas, who currently writes for F&SF.  I'm pretty sure Harness is a patent attorney in real life as his knowledge of the law seems prodigious.

In any event, Ornament is a beautiful story, lyrical and thoughtful — almost misplaced in this magazine, honestly.  I'm not quite sure I understood the ending, though I reread the piece to see if I had missed something; I may have simply missed a subtle reference.  In any event, it's my favorite story of the issue.

Four stars.

Minds Meet, by Paul Ash


by Kelly Freas

Lastly, we have the welcome return of Pauline Ashwell (a Campbell discovery from England who goes by both feminine and masculine bylines for some reason).  In this tale, a human and alien finally achieve true communication after seven years of frustratingly dissatisfying, if technically successful, discourse.  All it took was a little filthy intoxication.

A pleasant three stars.

Summing up

I'm sorry to disappoint those hoping to yell at me for "not understanding why people like Analog", but I liked this month's Analog.  Indeed, this issue virtually ties the (similarly returned to form) latest issue of Galaxy with a 3.4 rating, the best of the month.  Close behind are New Worlds (3.2), Fantasy and Science Fiction (3.1), and Science Fantasy (3).

Only IF (2.9) and Amazing (2.1) finished below the mediocrity line, and IF has the new Heinlein serial to commend it.

We are back to late 50s levels of female engagement in the genre: 10.2% of the new fiction was by women.  There was also a full two magazines' worth of superior content this month, more than twice as much as in December.  It really was a pleasure to be a fan this first month of January 1966!

Let's see how February fares…

The Journey is once again up for a Best Fanzine Hugo nomination — and its founder is up for several other awards as well!  If you've got a Worldcon membership, or if you just want to see what Gideon's done that's Hugo-worthy, please read his Hugo Eligibility article!  Thank you for your continued support.




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Book

[January 28, 1966] The Book as Rorschach Test (Flowers for Algernon)

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by Victoria Lucas

The View from Here

[Six years ago, Daniel Keyes made science fiction history with his revolutionary novelette, Flowers for Algernon. The very height of his triumph was the author's undoing; though he has produced several stories since then, none have had the impact as that first great piece. It was perhaps inevitable that he would revisit the well in pursuit of the success that eluded him. Vicki Lucas, a relatively nufan who had not previously encountered Keyes' work, gives her take on the novelization of the original story.]


current edition of Flowers for Algernon

Try as I might, I have great difficulty thinking of this novel as a science-fiction story. It could be conceived of as a psychological thriller, but no one dies except a mouse. It is deeply psychological and delves as far into the brain as anyone can get right now, accepting Freudian analysis as routine, while it is Jung's "individuation" that the main character, Charlie Gordon, seeks without a guide except for his reading.

Epistolary writing rare in science fiction

As far as I can tell from the short biography I was able to get hold of the author's background is steeped in science fiction, horror, and comic-book-hero writing and editing for publishers. Keyes writes in a style unusual in science fiction but more well known in the horror genre, in which the narrative unfolds in a series of letters ("epistles") or reports. His knowledge and expertise in styles may be why he teaches creative writing at Wayne State University now. The epistolary style is perfect for this story, in which so much of the action takes place in Charlie's brain.


Sometimes the brain is a maze

The Experimental as Science Fiction

The reports are "Progress reports" from Charlie, who begins with an IQ of 68, seeks knowledge beginning with reading and writing, and early in the novel undergoes experimental surgery that rapidly increases his IQ to 185. In the 7 months from his surgery to, well, the ultimate failure of the experiment, he traverses a lifetime of knowledge, emotional turmoil, and sexual longing and finally fulfillment (which is why the book is banned in places). The theory and practice of the experiment of which he becomes a part is currently science fiction, although who knows what the future of biochemistry and neurosurgery will bring?

"Pulling a Charlie Gordon"

Charlie struggles with his anger, his longing, his need to be respected, and his lack of discipline that inevitably get in the way of his accomplishing what he finally wishes he had been able to do. His anger is the biggest hurdle, and he never conquers it, despite the therapy in which he participates. At first he is angry because a mouse who has also undergone the surgery, Algernon, beats him at solving a maze. Then he is angry because he does not like the way Algernon is treated and eventually absconds with him. And the list goes on, as he executes a more intelligent version of what the men who worked with him called "pulling a Charlie Gordon," in which he makes a fool of himself. It is the treatment of Charlie by his mother, little sister, other children, people he thought were his friends, and quacks who flim-flam his mother that has earned his anger. And I really can't blame him. Much of the novel details the kind of thing that happens to "morons," who are perceived as less than human and locked away, often in institutions. Late in the book we go along as he tours such an institution, and it is treated sympathetically, with recognition of those who devote their lives to people rejected and ill-used by society. Again and again he is faced by the need to stop being selfish and focus on others, but his emotional maturation cannot keep pace with his too-rapidly growing intelligence quotient.


Algernon at his most intelligent

From "Exceptional" to "Exceptional"

In an early progress report after his intelligence begins to increase, Charlie complains that, "Before, they had laughed at me, despising me for my ignorance and dullness. Now, they hated me for my knowledge and understanding." As he nears the peak of his intelligence, he has spiritual experiences that he describes with elegance: "It's as if all the things I've learned have fused into a crystal universe spinning before me, so that I can see all the facets of it reflected in gorgeous bursts of light," so that Charlie is "living at a peak of clarity and beauty I never knew existed." Unfortunately, these experiences are brief and he cannot learn from them any more than he can quell his anger to prolong a love affair that brings him great joy for a short time.


A Rorschach card

The climb is too quick after 33 years of persecution and pain. The fall, like the falls of all those who seek to climb too high in dramatic terms, is swift and complete. I recommend this book, no matter its genre, and hope that anyone who reads it finds him- or herself touched by the plight of both those who are "exceptional" on the low end and those "exceptional" on the high end.

What will you see in it?

I see five stars.




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Magazine, Science Fiction/Fantasy, Serial

[January 26, 1966] Changes Afoot! Science Fantasy and New Worlds, February 1966

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by Mark Yon

Scenes from England

Hello again!

After the usual chaos and madness of a year’s end, it is usual for me to say at this point that I/we are now settling into the routines of 1966 nicely. Or are we? There’s change afoot!

Last month I made a half-joking remark that Science Fantasy was filled with old-fashioned and dated material that suggested that it was a placeholder issue. This month’s Science Fantasy seems to show that the Editor has taken this to heart. From next month Science Fantasy is no more – it will now be called Impulse, and this is shown on the cover in the same way that Astounding became Analog.

What difference such a title change will make, I don’t know. But it is clearly something Editor Kyril Bongfiglioli has wanted for a while. In his Editorial he explains the change, but what it mainly seems to be is that Kyril can now go to his newsagent and pick up a copy without fear of embarrassment, and he hopes others will be able to do the same. He also points out that there will also be a rise in price but that the magazine will be about thirty pages longer – “the equivalent of a full length novel.” Every cloud has a silver lining, I guess. But it is noted that both magazines are increasing their price next month.

To this month’s actual stories.

Ballad From A Bottle, by Hugh Simmonds

We’ve not come across Hugh’s writing before. As the title (and cover) suggests, this is a story of what happens when a bottle is found washed ashore on a beach. Simon takes it home and begins to have rather vivid dreams, which leads to him hearing voices and a song coming from the empty bottle. It’s a new version of the genie in the bottle story, isn’t it? Well, in this version the mysterious sounds lead to Simon travelling from Buenos Aires to Durban, South Africa (It’s not quite clear how he can afford it) and has some kind of religious experience (I think) in meeting an Arcturan who has been living in secret for millennia.

This one reads fine, but I can’t help feeling that it is spiritual allegory dressed up as a fictional story. I don’t know enough about such matters to know which religious view it is, but it feels like the purpose is the message, not the plot. 3 out of 5.

The Warp and the Woof-Woof, by John Brunner

Last month John appeared with a non-fiction article in New Worlds, this month a piece of fiction. It’s a nice story of an astronaut training to be the first man to Mars but as seen through the perspective of Jeff, his dog – the “woof woof” of the title. It involves Martians preparing for an invasion of Earth and a case of mistaken identity which doesn’t end well for the Martians. Brunner doesn’t write really bad stories, though this light-of-tone story feels like a minor tale. 3 out of 5.

Marina, by M. John Harrison

A new voice to me. This is a lyrical narrative telling of Marina, who dreams of a life at sea. Although she is separated from her beloved ocean, she knows that in the attic of the house where she lives there are mementos of a life spent there. Her rummaging leads to an unfortunate if predictable end. Despite the story being obvious, this is an interesting debut from an author clearly trying very hard to write imaginatively. 3 out of 5.

Our Man in 1900, by Paul Jents

Last time we had a story from Paul was in the June 1965 issue of Science Fantasy with Peace on Earth, and this month he has a story in both magazines! This story is one of time-travel and espionage, which although I haven’t seen it over here in Britain, makes me think of your Wild, Wild West television series, or something from our Doctor Who. Justini goes to see an act by fellow magician Marvo, only to find that it is not an act, but instead part of a time-travelling holiday company’s itinerary from the Thirtieth Century. The story starts well, and there’s a nicely done if rather obvious twist in the tale at the end. 3 out of 5.

Sing Me No Sorrows, by E. C. Tubb

Is there no end to the stockpile of material from the prodigious Mr. Tubb? This one is one of those “Where am I now?” type stories where the person in the story initially finds themselves somewhere new and unknown until eventually they discover where they are and what they are doing there. Minor-league stuff. 3 out of 5.

Plague in Space (part 3 of 3) , by Harry Harrison

At the end of last month’s serial, Doctors Sam Bertolli and Nita Mendel found themselves at an United Nations World Health meeting where a decision was made to quarantine and then cleanse New York City of a space plague by dosing it with radioactive material.

To finish the story, a decision is made to search the Pericles for any research completed by the hapless astronauts. Nita becomes ill and Sam is detained for protesting about Operation Cleansweep, so the story has an additional element of peril. Like last month, Sam escapes from his detention and enters the zone due for detonation to get to the Pericles.

There with Stanley Yasumura, Gen. Burke, Lieut. Haber and Sgt. Bennet, Sam battles through various challenges to get inside the spaceship. There they meet a Jovian, whose initial contact with the Pericles we are told of through flashback, and who has a cure. Nita is miraculously cured by the serum and in a horrendously clumsy ending everything is sorted and solved, with preparations made for the humans to return to Jupiter and take on the Jovians.

As the last part of the last serial for Science Fantasy, it’s pretty predictable. Issues are resolved satisfactorily, and there’s a reasonable ending. But the fact that I can’t think of much to say about the last part of a serial that takes up half of the issue may ultimately sum up the story’s impact. Overall it feels like a bit of a pot-boiler that is more likely to be liked by non-sf readers than those who have read this sort of thing so many times before. It is better than the pulps of the 1940s and 50s, but there’s little else to recommend it by me, sadly. 3 out of 5.

Summing up Science Fantasy

The last issue of Science Fantasy continues in the manner of the last couple of issues. There’s nothing particularly wrong with it, but it seems to have lost its energy. Knowing what we now do, I am hoping that this is just a case of holding the good material over until the next issue, which will hopefully show us how good the magazine can be again. It’s not bad, but it’s not great either.

Farewell Science Fantasy. It has been fun, but your time is past. All hail Impulse (fingers crossed).


Advert for the new magazine. A bold statement!

Onto this month’s New Worlds.

The Second Issue At Hand

A few months ago, I became aware of a group who were not in favour of Moorcock’s changes to New Worlds. They were mainly making their opinions known through groups such as the British Science Fiction Association, who were quite vocal about the reduction in the magazines of “good old-fashioned sf”, replacing it with loftier, more literary material and losing a key core group of readers in the process.

Well, clearly Mike Moorcock has been listening. The editorial this month is his response, a tirade that suffers no fools gladly and is perhaps the boldest statement yet of his intent as Editor. Can this be just coincidental as it happens at the same time as Science Fantasy changing its name? (I doubt it.)

There are some impassioned generalisations here. Moorcock makes some good points and gives some good examples to back his view up about what he is trying to do and why, but mistakenly begins by turning one generalisation (there have been some complaints…) into another (he claims that the views of this vocal minority equate with “All Change is Bad”).

Personally, I hope that my monthly comments here show that I like the old stuff as nostalgic entertainment but I also appreciate what Moorcock is trying to do, even if I don’t always “get it”. Last month I said that New Worlds was “pushing the genre whilst at the same time maintaining some connections to the past,” which I like.

In short, Moorcock’s Editorial is an interesting read that is one from a clearly heart-felt conviction on his part and summarises how far the genre has come in a few years. Might even be worth buying the magazine for that statement of intent alone.

To the stories!


Illustration by James Cawthorn

A Two-Timer, by David I Masson

No serial this month but another different sort of story from Masson, who has been a major supernova as a writer in his brief time here. Moorcock talks about this in his Editorial in glowing terms, and I can only agree. It is written in the form of “ye-olde-English-language” with archaic vocabulary and Lots of Capital Letters in the Middle of Sentences, and as such can be a little difficult to get on with at first – it reminds me of the recent reaction to Heinlein’s The Moon is a Harsh Mistress. Masson’s first story (Traveller’s Rest, in the September issue of New Worlds) showed us that Masson clearly enjoys playing with language. I understand that David is not only an author but also the Curator of Special Collections at Liverpool University with an interest in language, and this is reflected in his stories here.

However, once the reader becomes accustomed to the prose, it is a great story about time travel that uses the dislocation of language to describe present day lifestyle. Separated by three hundred years, the story is written as if someone from history was recording the events of the present. Our unnamed hero from 1683 finds himself by accident in a time machine that travels to 1964. It’s an entertaining satire as we decipher what our traveller is seeing such as cars, buses, aeroplanes, electricity, television and so on. It is also a deliberate reversal of the historical novel, where events of the past are told with modern prose. It is a great idea, and much of the amusement comes from trying to deduce what our protagonist is describing, but it is really the same idea repeated through one story. I did like the point that as the story progresses and our narrator becomes more fluent with the modern world, the language becomes more modern, which rather reminded me of the linguistics in Daniel Keyes’ recent story Flowers for Algernon. The title’s clever as well – a person who is in two places at once at different times and – there’s another reason as well, but I won’t spoil it for you.

Though it is similar to Paul Jents’ story in this month’s Science Fantasy, this is a comedy of manners that is a magnitude greater in its ambition and its plotting. It’s a little too long – you can only carry this one idea so far – and has a weak ending, yet I found it enjoyable enough. 4 out of 5.

The Orbs, by John Watney

Another new author to me. This is story told through a diary entry by Julia, a sixteen-year-old in the Time of the Orbs. What we discover through the excited Julia is that there is a rite-of-passage that she is about to experience known as the Great Adventure. Guess what? The Orbs are some sort of Alien harvesting machine who suck up humans and butcher them in what is called The Great Descent. Over time humans have adapted this to allowing self-sacrificers, known as Orb-Volunteers to be harvested, which ultimately becomes narrowed down to teenagers, who are prepared for this sacrifice with great pomp and ceremony. It’s an invasion story where the matter-of-fact tone belies horrors on a global scale. Whilst the theme of the story isn’t new, it is chillingly told. 3 out of 5.

Entry from Earth, by Daphne Castell

Another from an author who is almost becoming a regular in the magazines, after her appearance with For One of These in Science Fantasy last month. This time Daphne tells us of the Nine Systems Festival of Sound on the planet Pigauron. This involves lots of dignitaries from strange planets, but this year the excitement is over a competition entry from a relatively unknown planet called Earth. The irony is that the song is a slavery song, sung by slaves. I liked the somewhat florid and baroque nature of the decadent aliens, though the twist in the end is a little weak. 3 out of 5.

Hi, Sancho!, by Paul Jents

And so to Paul’s second published story this month. This is the story of Tip Peters, an escapee who we first meet escaping over an electrified fence for an initially undisclosed reason. Over the course of the story Tip goes to his girlfriend for refuge, but is persuaded to seek further help in escaping. This leads to him informing the authorities of a potential terrorist attack. The twist in the story at the end shows us that Tip is clinically insane and actually returns to an asylum. A story that hints at a dark world outside Tip’s safe haven, with extermination camps in “Africa” possibly being the cause of Tip’s illness, but as with most similar stories unfortunately feels rather ham-fisted. I much preferred the other story this month. 3 out of 5.


Illustration by A Thomson

Temporary Resident, by Philip E. High

Philip’s a regular to the magazines, and one of the old school of writers, but one who is trying to write in a New Wave style. However, with that in mind, this is a fairly inconsequential piece this month. A near-miss with a car on the planet Speriol leads the protagonist (who works in Intelligence) to wonder if the accident was deliberate. This leads to a paranoic spiral, for as he continues his day he increasingly feels that he is carrying on the same as normal but everyone around him is not. The ‘accident’ seems to have led to a “Transition”, moving our hero to a different plane of existence where physical laws are altered. Another one of those “altered perception” type stories which basically takes that idea of inner space and runs with it under the guise of sf, which ends on an unconvincing twist. 3 out of 5.

The Sword Against the Stars, by A. F. Hall

Do you remember me writing of that story a couple of issues back that seemed to throw everything in, from unicorns to spaceships? My first thought on reading this title was that this was going to be another story covering similar ideas, but really it is not. On a planet that is possibly Earth, we are told of what has happened in our future. Man has attempted to go beyond the planet and has sent spaceships travelling into space but they have never returned.

Instead aliens arrived and destroyed the world, leaving the people there unable to leave the planet. There’s lots of descriptions of the harsh lifestyle the people live. There are dust storms and we have people fighting over caches of food. The story tries to end on a positive note, hopeful that a sword the writer owns will become a sign that Mankind will one day return to the stars, but most of the story is about the challenges of eking out a living in a post-apocalyptic environment. Grim and depressing, despite the ending. 3 out of 5.

Book Reviews, Articles and Letters

Assistant Editor Langdon reviews Of Worlds Beyond, a non-fiction book on the craft of sf writing. Jones claims that it’s worth spending your money on if you can’t find anything else – talk about faint praise! – but I must admit that I Iiked some of the quotes given from editors and authors, perhaps enough to buy the book. There’s also reviews of a number of novels in a series by Samuel Delany and The Wizard of Lemuria by Lin Carter from someone we know more for his drawings here – James Cawthorn. R. M. Bennett gives a detailed review of The Best of New Worlds, now in paperback. It’s fairly thorough, though I must admit that I’m always a bit uneasy when a magazine reviews itself. It does gain extra credit from me though for saying that Langdon Jones' story I Remember Anita was "overrated."

In the letters pages there is lots of discussion of Pohl and Kornbluth’s recent novel The Space Merchants reviewed back in the November 1965 issue. First there is a letter suggesting that James Colvin’s review of the book was unfair, which is then followed by a letter agreeing with the review and claiming that the novel is “probably the most over-estimated sf novel ever.” Colvin gives an appropriate reply in response.

There’s also a letter from a new reader complaining about too much sex and religion in the latest magazines, ending with the pithy sentence “As far as I am concerned, true sf writing ceased in 1939.” Clearly not a fan of the new direction the magazine is going in, then! I wonder what this reader will make of Moorcock’s impassioned Editorial this month? The letter is given without editorial comment.

The last letter praises the magazine for trying to maintain a difficult balance between the old and the new, which shows that at least some are getting what Mike is trying to achieve.

Summing up New Worlds

We seem to be on a run of good New Worlds issues at the moment. Moorcock rants aside, it is true that he has a lot to be proud about in this one and although this issue is not the best we’ve seen lately it holds up as readable. Masson’s writing continues to impress, with another very different story from him.

Summing up overall

Whilst I am sad at the passing of Science Fantasy, the difference between the actively energetic if not to say fighting tone of New Worlds and the tired yet staid Science Fantasy is once again quite noticeable. Perhaps it is time for a change. I look forward to seeing if Impulse makes a difference next month. It should not be a surprise though that the ‘winner’ this month for me is New Worlds – even if it is not the best issue we've seen lately.

Until the next…



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Movies

[January 24, 1966] The Sincerest Form Of Espionage (Agent for H.A.R.M., Our Man Flint, and Other Bond Imitations)

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by Victoria Silverwolf

My Word Is My Bond

The late Ian Fleming certainly didn't invent spy fiction, but he started an explosive interest in the genre with the publication of his 1953 novel Casino Royale.


And he designed the cover art, too.

Introducing British secret agent James Bond, also known as 007, the book was followed by eleven more novels, as well as the story collection For Your Eyes Only.

Spies On The Screen

Of course, the current craze for all things Bond-related didn't really get started until the release of the film adaptation of Dr. No, making an international superstar of Scottish actor Sean Connery in the role of Bond. Since then, we've seen movie versions of From Russia With Love, Goldfinger, and Thunderball. It seems certain that there will be more to come, at least until they run out of Fleming titles.

It's no surprise to find out that other filmmakers around the world have jumped on the bandwagon. Many of their productions, made in Europe, have yet to appear in the USA, so are beyond this discussion. (I presume that some will eventually show up, in heavily edited and badly dubbed versions, on American television.) Let me mention, at random, a few that have appeared in Yankee movie theaters.

Hot Enough For June stars Dirk Bogarde as an ordinary fellow looking for a job who gets mixed up in international intrigue because he happens to speak Czech. Known as Agent 8 3/4 on this side of the pond, just in case we ignorant Americans didn't realize it was a spy movie, it offers both action and fish-out-of-water comedy, in the form of the reluctant secret agent.


As you can tell if you've seen the trailer, it also offers Sylva Koscina's legs.

A similar combination of laughs and thrills appears in the French film That Man from Rio (L'Homme de Rio), one of the few foreign language Bond imitations to reach English-speaking audiences.


The clever screenplay was nominated for an Academy Award. You can enjoy watching the trailer at your local art cinema house, if you don't mind subtitles.

We go from semi-comic adventures to out-and-out farce with Carry On Spying, one of the many films in the long-running Carry On series of lowbrow British comedies. Given that the evil organization in this movie is called STENCH, you realize that this isn't exactly subtle wit.


The oddest thing I found out when I saw the trailer is that it's in black-and-white. The genre screams for bright, bold colors.

The United Kingdom doesn't have a monopoly on silly spy spoofs. The great Vincent Price has the title role in the American comedy Dr. Goldfoot and the Bikini Machine. It's so goofy that it reminds me of the beach movies to which I am addicted. And the Supremes sing the groovy title song!


Catch the trailer to see Price parody his role in The Pit and the Pendulum.

There are other followers of the Bond formula that are more dramatic. Despite a few sly references to you-know-who, Licensed to Kill is mostly a serious imitation of the original.


It was re-edited and given a nutty new title for American audiences. They also added a title song performed by Sammy Davis, Jr.

Idiot Box Intelligence Agents

Secret agents also populate our living rooms on the small screen. One of the most popular television versions of the espionage game comes in the form of The Man From U.N.C.L.E., starring Robert Vaughn as the improbably named operative Napoleon Solo and David McCallum as his Russian partner Ilya Kuryakin. Together, they fight each week against the sinister organization THRUSH.


U.N.C.L.E. stands for the United Network Command for Law and Enforcement. THRUSH doesn't stand for anything but evil, as far as I know.

There's also the relatively new series I Spy, with a pair of secret agents pretending to be a semi-pro tennis player and his trainer. The show manages to be both serious and comic, and benefits from the playful dialogue between the two leads.


Comedian Bill Cosby as Alexander Scott and Robert Culp as Kelly Robinson.

Also recently arriving is a series that combines the popular Western genre with the gadgets and evil megalomaniacs of spy fiction. The Wild Wild West features two secret agents working for President Ulysses S. Grant. Their adventures often involve bizarre science fiction technology, far beyond what you would expect in the Nineteenth Century.


Ross Martin as Artemus Gordon, Master of Disguise, and Robert Conrad as James West, the Bond of the Old West.

While I was working on this article, the Noble Editor informed me that the whodunit series Burke's Law, some episodes of which were written by Harlan Ellison, has changed its name to Amos Burke, Secret Agent. The millionaire playboy police captain is now a millionaire playboy spy.


The Noble Editor also informs me that it's not very good.

Naturally, we have a situation comedy based on spy stuff. Get Smart pits the good guys of CONTROL against the bad guys of KAOS (who obviously don't spell very well.)


Don Adams as Maxwell Smart, Agent 86, and Barbara Feldon as the otherwise nameless Agent 99.

The Young Traveler has already waxed poetic over the British import Danger Man (known as Secret Agent in the USA, because we have to have everything spelled out for us), so I won't go into any detail.


Patrick McGoohan as John Drake. In some ways, he's the antithesis of James Bond.

I've heard good things about another TV show from the UK, but it hasn't reached these shores yet. I'm talking about The Avengers, a tongue-in-cheek adventure series starring another Patrick, this one surnamed Macnee. It started broadcasting in 1961, before the first James Bond movie was released.


Patrick Macnee as John Steed and Honor Blackman as Cathy Gale. Blackman left the series to play a character with an unusual name in Goldfinger.

I understand that the American Broadcasting Company has purchased the rights to the series, and will begin showing it in the USA in a couple of months.


Wearing Steed's bowler is his new partner, Emma Peel, portrayed by Diana Rigg.

Mad About Spies

I would be remiss in my duties if I didn't mention a series of cartoons appearing in Mad magazine, of which I am a regular reader. Cuban expatriate Antonio Prohias writes and draws Spy vs Spy, which shows a Black Spy and a White Spy taking turns destroying each other. Once in a while, the female Gray Spy shows up and gets the better of both of them. This femme fatale is drawn in a more-or-less realistic fashion, unlike the pair of cone-faced male spies.


The feature changes its name to Spy vs Spy vs Spy when she arrives. For those of you who don't read Morse code, the message says By Prohias.

Double-Oh Double Feature

Speaking of Spy vs Spy, a pair of would-be Bonds arrived in American theaters this month, ready to take on each other at the box office. Who will prevail? Let's take a look at the earlier arrival first.

In H.A.R.M.'s Way


The trailer emphasizes Danger! rather than Women!

We begin with a couple of guys running through a tunnel. A soldier chases them, but gets shot down by one of them. The two reach safety, they think, but the man they meet, who was supposed to help them cross the Iron Curtain, betrays them. He shoots one of them with a funny-looking gun that makes a kind of a hiss when it fires. We'll find out that this thing is a spore gun, and it turns people into bubbling green fungus.


Who ordered an extra large spinach and pepperoni pizza?

The other guy overpowers the traitor and gets away. It turns out that this is a defecting scientist, who apparently created the deadly spore and who is working on a cure for it.


Carl Esmond as Spore Guy.

After the semi-abstract title sequence, which seems to be mandatory for this kind of thing, we get to meet our hero, Adam Chance, Agent for H.A.R.M., played by Mark Richman. In proper Bond style, he's a real ladies' man. He's got a date with his boss's secretary, but has to break it to take on a new assignment.


She's a very minor character, and I wasn't even going to mention her, but I wanted you to see her truly amazing two-tone beehive hairdo.

He also gets some smooching from a female agent he's training in judo and marksmanship. Although she's no amateur when it comes to martial arts, he overcomes her, because he's all manly and stuff.


Romance, Adam Chance style.

Adam goes to visit the scientist in his oceanside home. Also present is his niece, whom he hasn't seen in twenty years. We find out right away that she's really an imposter, working for the Commies. Attention girlwatchers: She spends almost the entire movie in a skimpy bikini. (By the way, our hero often wears a green turtleneck with a pale yellow sweater. Somehow that doesn't seem as elegant as Bond's tuxedo.)


Barbara Bouchet, as the phony niece, reacts to Adam's choice of attire.

It seems that the Bad Guys plan to spray the spores over American crops, so those rascally capitalists will turn into slimy green goop. They've got their headquarters in a little house just over the border in Mexico. They also have only about four or five guys, and one small plane, so I assume they're on a budget.


"Tell me the truth, boss; do I look more like Stevie Wonder or Johnny Mathis?"

Well, there's no need to go over the rest of the slow-moving plot. There's a lot of running back and forth between the beach house and the Bad Guys' hacienda. There are some sub-Bond gadgets. (Adam has a tape recorder disguised in an electric shaver. During a conversation with the scientist, he has to casually ask if he minds if he shaves while they talk.) Our hero gets a flat tire, so he steals a motorcycle. Don't try that the next time you get a flat.

Oh, you'd like to know what H.A.R.M. stands for?  The movie reveals this in a shot that lasts a fraction of a second, above a sort of computer map gizmo that keeps track of where the agents are located.  Are you ready?

Human Aetiological Relations Machine.

Don't ask me what that means, or why this American organization uses the British spelling.

Originally an unsold pilot for a TV series, this thing was released to an unsuspecting public as a feature film. The low budget and cramped sets of a television show are visible in every scene. The only way to enjoy it, I think, is to get together with some friends and make fun of it.

The Lighter Side of Espionage


Watch the trailer and you'll understand my lighter joke.

Next to arrive on the silver screens of America was Our Man Flint, with James Coburn playing the title role. We start with scenes (stock footage, with maybe some stuff stolen from other movies) of disasters all over the world. For a moment I thought I was watching Crack in the World again.

Cut to the headquarters of some kind of international organization. Although an establishing shot tells us we're in Washington, D.C., there are folks of different nationalities standing around. The boss is played by Lee J. Cobb. We'll find out later that the organization is known as Zonal Organization World Intelligence Espionage — Z.O.W.I.E.!


On the phone with the President of the United States. This telephone has its own special ring.

Desperate to defeat the mysterious villains behind these events, all the assembled representatives of world governments write down their desired qualifications for the perfect agent. The computer spits out only one name: Derek Flint. Cobb has to call on Flint to convince him to come out of retirement to save the world.

Flint lives in this really cool place, full of all kinds of gadgets. He can change the paintings and statues instantly, with one push of a button. He's got private practice areas for martial arts, fencing, and so forth.


Just part of a routine day for Derek Flint.

He also lives with four women, each of a different nationality, who apparently combine the characteristics of servants — barber, valet, etc. — and girlfriends.


Flint bids a temporary farewell to the ladies

Flint prepares himself for his assignment by stopping his heart for a couple of hours, a talent that will come in handy later. This requires him to maintain what seems to be a rather uncomfortable position.


Coburn is really doing this, without special effects.

After refusing to accept the usual spy gadgets, because he has his own — remember the lighter? — he immediately dispatches a couple of Bad Guys disguised as military guards.


He knows they're phonies because they're wearing ribbons for the Battle of the Bulge, which don't exist. Silly Bad Guys.

The plot gets really complicated from this point, so let me just outline it a bit. Our movie's Bad Girl, played by Israeli beauty Gina Golan, tries to kill Flint by shooting a poison dart at him with the strings of a harp.


Our femme fatale. How much do you want to bet that she falls into our hero's arms?

Traces of the ingredients for Marseilles-style bouillabaisse on the dart lead him to the French port city. Then, after exchanging information with agent 0008 while they have a fake fight, he learns that an organization known as GALAXY is behind the disasters. Golan tries to blow him up with a bomb in a jar of cold cream.

The cold cream leads him to Rome, where he encounters Golan again. Complications ensue when his four girlfriends are kidnapped. It all leads up to the final battle at GALAXY headquarters, situated on a volcanic island.


The Bad Guys have great interior decorators.

It seems that three Mad Scientists want to create a world without war and want, using the disasters they create to blackmail the world into accepting their benign dictatorship. They also use mind control to transform Flint's ladies, and a bunch of other women, into Pleasure Units, to serve the needs of their male minions.

This takes the form of entertaining them in fantasy rooms, where they play the roles of go-go dancers, maidservants of ancient times, and so forth. The most amusing of these is the room where they park in cars with the men in a simulated drive-in theater and smooch on them.

Will Flint defeat GALAXY and get his four girlfriends back? Are you kidding me?


Make that five girlfriends.

Our Man Flint is a very amusing movie. The main source of humor is the fact that Flint is incredibly competent at everything from emergency surgery to cliff diving. Coburn plays the role with just the right sense of cool assurance.

Unlike the poverty-stricken Agent for H.A.R.M., this film obviously has a real budget. The sets are lavish, and the special effects are pretty good, although you can tell that some things are just models. The action sequences are done with excellent stunt work. The movie seems to be making money, and I wouldn't be surprised if there's a sequel in the works.

I'm sure there will be countless more books, movies, television series, comic books, and whatnot inspired by the spy fad. Who knows where a secret agent will show up next?


Maybe in board games. That doesn't look a whole lot like Sean Connery, by the way.




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Book, Movies, Science Fiction/Fantasy

[January 22, 1966] Monks, Demi-Gods and Cat People: The Sword of Lankor by Howard L. Cory

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by Cora Buhlert

German Beats:

Sony and Cher on Beat-Club
Sony and Cher are performing on Beat-Club.

Beat music is invading the West German single charts and getting steadily more popular, particularly among the young. In September, I reported about the launch of Beat-Club, a brand-new music TV program made right here in my hometown of Bremen. Since then, Beat-Club has become a must-watch among young West Germans and is also beginning to attract international stars. For example, the December edition featured both the British band Gerry and the Pacemakers and the US duo Sonny and Cher.

Cover: Marmor, Stein und Eisen bricht

Outside the teen and twen demographic, however, Schlager, that uniquely German genre of pop music with sentimental lyrics and catchy melodies, is still king. And now, a nineteen-year-old singer named Drafi Deutscher has managed to combine beat style music and Schlager type lyrics with his number one hit "Marmor, Stein und Eisen bricht" (Marble, stone and iron breaks, but our love will not). Does the combination work? Judge for yourself.

Whip-Mad Monks:

Meanwhile, West German cinemas are dominated by the latest instalment in the Edgar Wallace series of spooky thrillers. Der unheimliche Mönch (The Sinister Monk) came out late in 1965, but I only got around to seeing it after new year.

Poster: The Sinister Monk

In many ways, The Sinister Monk is a very typical Edgar Wallace thriller. The wealthy Lord Darkwood dies and leaves his entire estate to his granddaughter Gwendolin (Karin Dor), whose father is in prison for a crime he did not commit. This infuriates the remaining relatives so much that they try to murder Gwendolin for her inheritance.

The Sinister Monk
The Sinister Monk menaces Dieter Eppler.

A large part of the movie is set in an exclusive girls' boarding school run by Gwendolin's aunt Lady Patricia (Ilse Steppat). However, Lady Patricia has problems of her own, for some of her students have gone missing and a sinister hooded monk wielding a bullwhip is stalking the grounds. Soon, cast members are dropping like flies, strangled to death by the monk's bullwhip. However, for reasons best known to himself, the monk seems determined to protect Gwendolin from assassination attempts by her villainous relatives.

The Sinister Monk
The Sinister Monk harrasses a school girl.

The Sinister Monk is a delightfully spooky gothic romp and the whip-wielding monk is certainly one of the more colourful Edgar Wallace villains. However, the true shock comes once the monk is unmasked in the finale. For the face under the hood is none other than that of Eddi Arent, a regular of the Edgar Wallace movies who normally specialises in playing comic relief characters and was about the least likely suspect.

The Sinister Monk
Gwendolin (Karin Dor) meets Bedel Smith (Eddi Arent). But beware, because he's not as harmless as he looks.

This proves that even after twenty-four movies, the Edgar Wallace series still has a surprise or two up its sleeve.

Planet of Apostrophes:

Surprises may also be found in the spinner rack of my local import bookstore. And so I picked up what the backcover promised was a science fiction adventure in the tradition of Edgar Rice Burroughs.

The Sword of Lankor by Howard L. Cory

The Sword of Lankor by Howard L. Cory plunges us right in medias res with our hero, the mercenary Thuron of Ulmekoor embroiled in a tavern brawl in the city of Taveeshe on the planet of Lankor. Thuron is certainly the perfect protagonist, because – so the author assures us – "adventure followed him around like a friendly puppy". He's also tall, strong and a skilled swordsman.

During the tavern brawl, Thuron saves the life of Gaar, a member of a race of furry cat people called Kend. As a result, Gaar is now Thuron's servant for a year and a day, as the customs of his people demand. But Gaar brings other skills to the partnership as well, for he is an oracle, conjurer and pickpocket. Gaar is also the brains of the duo, while Thuron is the brawn.

If you are reminded at this point of Fritz Leiber's Fafhrd and Gray Mouser stories, you are not alone. And indeed the Burroughs comparison on the backcover is misleading, for there are many authors that The Sword of Lankor is more reminiscent of than Burroughs.

When Thuron and Gaar are ambushed, Gaar declares in a spur of inspiration that his companion is the son of the battle god Wabbis Ka'arbu, as has been prophesied by a hovering golden sphere that suddenly appeared in the temple of the battle god a few days before. But while Gaar had only intended to get both of them out of a tight spot, Thuron likes the idea of being the son of a god and decides to take part in the battle games that will determined the true son of Wabbis Ka’arbu.

Son of the Battle God:

Even though Thuron starts out as an underdog, he nonetheless wins the contest and – with the aid of a convenient solar eclipse – is pronounced the true son of the battle god. But that's not the end of Thuron's troubles, for he now has to deal with the conflict between King Xandnur and the treacherous high priest Yang T'or as well as with Princess Yllara who has been given to him as a not entirely unwelcome gift. The mysterious golden sphere also sends Thuron on a quest to meet the battle god in his invisible palace atop the mountain Thona.

Unfortunately, Thuron remembers nothing of the meeting with his godly father and wakes up on the mountain with a headache, a magical ring on his finger, a refurbished sword that can even cut through stone and his "father's" voice in his ear. He also has a dream that sends him on a sacred quest the Isle of Crystals in the Forbidden Sea to procure a shipload of red crystals, a quest that is of course fraught with many dangers.

If you're beginning to suspect at this point that what happened to Thuron was not divine intervention at all, but that something quite different is going on in Lankor, you're not alone. And indeed, the mysterious dialogues about Thuron's quest between an unnamed captain and an equally unnamed navigator that are interspersed between the chapters strengthen those suspicions.

Gaar, who is after all the brains of the team, is also beginning to have his suspicions, especially after the supposed battle god turns out to be unaware of things he should know, such as that Thuron's ship has been hijacked by pirates in the employ of Yang T'or, complete with its cargo of crystals as well as Thuron's beloved Yllara. Furthermore, why does the battle god only speak to Thuron three times a day, always at the same time? And what does a battle god need those red crystals for anyway? So Gaar and Thuron decide to test the supposed battle god and persuade him to do their bidding, if he wants those crystals.

To cut to the chase, the hovering golden sphere that appeared in the temple of the battle god is not a divine omen at all, but a probe sent to explore the planet Lankor. The invisible palace atop the mountain Thona is not a godly dwelling, but a cloaked spaceship. And Thuron is not the son of the battle god either, but just a convenient pawn used by the merchant crew of said spaceship to procure the priceless red crystals. As for why the spaceship crew can't just mine the crystals themselves, Lankor is a high gravity world, where the crew would be instantly crushed, if they were to land. So they use the godhood ruse to recruit the strongest man on Lankor to retrieve the crystals for them.

Thuron does indeed the deliver the crystals to the supposed battle god (though he in turn gets the golden sphere's aid in reconquering the city of Taveeshe), slay the treacherous Yang T'or and rescue his beloved Yllara from Yang T'or's dungeons. In the end, Thuron remains in Taveeshe to rebuild the cult of the battle god without greedy priests or human sacrifices. Meanwhile, Gaar, who after all was the one who figured out the truth about the golden sphere, elects to travel with the spaceship crew to have further adventures among the stars.

A Fun Romp

The Sword of Lankor is an action-packed and thoroughly enjoyable science fiction and fantasy hybrid. The novel is chock full of great action scenes, whether it's the initial arena contest, a battle against giant crystalline spiders, a ship to ship fight with a pirate crew or the climactic duel inside the temple of the battle god.

Even though The Sword of Lankor is set on an alien planet and is a science fiction tale masquerading as fantasy or vice versa, the novel is closer to Robert E. Howard's Conan the Cimmerian and Fritz Leiber's Fafhrd and the Gray Mouser than to Burroughs' Barsoom. We still don't have a good term for the type of action and adventure fantasy that Robert E. Howard, C.L. Moore and Clark Ashton Smith pioneered in the pages of Weird Tales more than thirty years ago. Michael Moorcock suggested "epic fantasy", Lin Carter prefers "heroic fantasy", while Fritz Leiber proposes "sword and sorcery". Personally, I prefer the latter term.

We have even less of a term to describe the kind of vaguely science fictional interplanetary adventure that Edgar Rice Burroughs pioneered more than fifty years ago and that Leigh Brackett and C.L. Moore perfected in the 1930s and 1940s, until science put a stop to fantastic adventures on Mars and Venus. "Planetary romance" seems to be the most common term. Fritz Leiber suggests "sword and superscience", while Donald Wollheim used "sword and wonder" on the backcover of the recent anthology Swordsmen in the Sky.

Swordsmen in the Sky, edited by Donald A. Wollheim

But whatever you want to call them, it's obvious that both subgenres are having a moment. Ace and Ballantine are eagerly reprinting Edgar Rice Burroughs stories that have been out of print for decades. Burroughs pastiches such as the recent Mars trilogy by Edward P. Bradbury a.k.a. Michael Moorcock are also popping up.

On the sword and sorcery side, Fritz Leiber's Fafhrd and Gray Mouser and John Jakes' Brak the Barbarian are regularly gracing the pages of Fantastic. Michael Moorcock's Elric stories are a frequent feature in Science Fantasy and The Wizard of Lemuria by Lin Carter also came out last year. So did the Thurvok and Kurval series, my own humble contributions to the subgenre. Even Robert E. Howard's Conan the Cimmerian is set to be reprinted soon, thirty years after Howard's untimely death.

The Sword of Lankor is part of that revival and manages to combine good old-fashioned science fantasy adventure in the tradition of Leiber, Howard and Burroughs with a modern sensibility. For while the golden age was full of faux gods and science masquerading as religion, I doubt that the motives of the spaceship crew would have been quite so mercenary in the 1940s. Isaac Asimov's Foundation at least wanted to stave off the dark ages. The spaceship crew in The Sword of Lankor just wants to make a profit.

Sin Ship by Larry Maddock
When he's not writing science fiction, Jack Owen Jardine a.k.a. Larry Maddock a.k.a. one half of Howard L. Cory pens this kind of fare.

So who is Howard L. Cory, author of The Sword of Lankor? It turns out that Howard L. Cory is a joint pen name used by Jack Owen Jardine and his wife Julie Ann Jardine. Jack Owen Jardine is a radio disc jockey who published a couple of science fiction short stories under the pen name Larry Maddock as well as several erotic novels. His wife Julie Ann is an actress and dancer who performs under the stage name Corrie Howard. Until now, I was not familiar with either of them, but based on The Sword of Lankor, I wouldn't mind reading more stories by Jack Owen and Julie Ann Jardine.

The fact that one of the authors of The Sword of Lankor is a woman also explains why The Sword of Lankor offers more and better realised female characters than many other stories of that type. True, Yllara is a space princess stereotype and also mostly absent for the last third of the novel, when she is held prisoner by Yang T'or. However, on their quest to rescue Yllara, Thuron and Gaar also form an alliance with the Amazon queen Sh'gundelah and her impressive battle maidens.

The Sword of Lankor is not the sort of book that will win Hugos or other accolades, but it's a highly entertaining romp that had me smiling throughout. If you like Fritz Leiber's Fafhrd and Gray Mouser, Robert E. Howard's Conan the Cimmerian or John Jakes' Brak the Barbarian, give The Sword of Lankor a try.

Four stars.




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Magazine

[January 20, 1966] Bombs, duds, and happy endings (February 1966 Fantasy and Science Fiction)

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by Gideon Marcus

Near miss

Three days ago, a B-52 nuclear bomber crashed into a KC-135 tanker aircraft off the southern coast of Spain.  The tanker was immediately destroyed, killing its four crew, and the B-52 crashed — four of its seven crew survived.

The payload of said bomber had a similarly mixed fate: two of the bombs exploded upon hitting the ground, though the nuclear device did not activate.  As a result, there is now an irradiated zone near the fishing village of Palomares.  The third bomb did not go off at all.

A fourth bomb fell into the Mediterranean Sea.  We're still looking for that one; with luck, it will be found and all will be fine.  I can't imagine Franco will want us flying our bombers over Spanish airspace anymore, though.

Turbulent flying

While The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction has not plumbed the same depths it often did under the brief editorship of Avram Davidson, nevertheless Joe Ferman's F&SF has almost as many ups and downs as a Japan-bound 707 crossing a jet stream boundary.  After last month's lousy outing (which followed the previous month's excellent issue), we're on something of a level flight path.  The stories in this month's issue range from fair to middlin' with only one stand-out and one definite clunker.


by George Salter

The Gadge System, by Reginald Bretnor

Assembly line schmo, Joe Gadge, decides to quit his job and light for Burma.  His goal: to secure the inset ruby of an idol whereby to become a millionaire and win the hand of his sweetheart.  Thus ensues an amusing send-up of the typical pulp jungle adventure.  I particularly appreciated the subversion of racist clichés.

Bretnor has mostly stayed away from the SFF scene, having devoted his energies instead to the monthly pun columns that used to curse…er…grace F&SF.  This latest piece feels like a relic of the last decade, but it's pleasant reading.

Three stars.


by Gahan Wilson

Against Authority, by Miriam Allen deFord

Two young men and an extraordinary young woman are poised to rid New Turkey of "Authority", the long-installed dictator who sprang to power in the wake of a devastating alien invasion.  But the revolt is subverted even as it starts, and the plot appears to be some kind of grooming by Authority himself to find talented agents.

Where one wheel exists within another, one can be certain a third ring remains to be discovered as well.

While this story is an enjoyable pageturner, the plot is archaic (no surprise — deFord is one of the genre's longest serving veterans) and it all ends too abruptly for satisfaction.

If the previous story scraped the line between three and four stars, Against Authority hovers just above this ranking's lower boundary.

An Afternoon in May, by Richard Winkler

A library is under siege, its elderly operators determined to turn its shelves into a literary Alamo against the ignorant mob of would-be book burners.  May covers the same ground as Bradbury's The Fireman, though with a lighter touch ("The situation is hopeless, but not serious.")

Three stars.

Witness for the Persecution, by Randall Garrett

On a far off human planet in a binary system, Walt Gayle finds himself the target of a vigorous assassination plot after purchasing the secret of artificial gravity from the Interstellar Traders.  He is only saved by the ministrations of one Jeremiah, who seems to be almost omnipotent.  Why is Gayle hunted, and what lies at the other end of the chase?

I'm not sure why this story didn't get sold to Analog, where it would seem more at home.  I do know that F&SF has been trying to get more space stories of late (to maintain the "SF" part of its name).

Anyway, it's not bad, but it's also nothing you haven't seen before, and you likely won't remember it next month.  Certainly, the "surprise" reveal at the end is anything but.

Three stars.

Desynchronosis, by Theodore L. Thomas

There is a new malady that afflicts those of us in the Jet Set: "time zone syndrome".  In this article, surprisingly bereft of the Thomas' half-baked SF story seeds, the author posits that there may be other cycles beyond the 24-hour one that rule our biology.

Three stars.  I wish it had been a full length article.

The New Men, by Joanna Russ

In 1986, a East Bloc dignitary stranded in Poland by a broken down car seeks shelter in an ancient bougeois fortress.  Its resident appears to be a 400 year old Count, dusty but well-preserved.  Literate (if obtuse and veiled) horror ensues.

Russ is very good at aping older styles of writing, and she has produced some near masterpieces in the process.  This latest story will not be one of them, I'm afraid.  Perhaps I'm not versed enough in the legend it's modernizing.

Three stars.

The Way Back, by D. K. Findlay

Often, a science fiction story will be spawned by the latest scientific discovery.  In The Way Back's case, it's the recent revelation that the universe not only was created in a Big Bang, but that it may eventually collapse under its own gravitation back into a gravitational point source. 

This rather incoherent piece suggests that the process of collapse will begin in the next few decades (it won't) and that accompanying the collapse will be a gradual de-evolution of humanity (what?!)

Two stars.

Up and Down the Earth, by Isaac Asimov

The Good Doctor takes up the subject of mountains, describing the highest heights by continent, and also under various other circumstances: distance of peaks from the Earth's core, height of mountains if the oceans were drained, etc.  Missing is the most important statistic, of course: length of ascent from base to summit.

Another geographical dart throw.  Three stars.

The Mountains of Magnatz, by Jack Vance

Speaking of mountains…

Despite the punnish name, there is no relation between this story and Lovecraft's swansong, In the Mountains of Madness.  Instead, we have the sequel to the first story of Cugel the Clever, a charlatan tasked by a sorcerer to find and return an ancient magical relic.  Cugel navigates whirlpools, deodands, and trecherous townsfolk in an adventure that is half Howard, half Baum.

A little too trivial to be sublime, it is nevertheless quite clever and a lot of fun.

Four stars.

Girls Will Be Girls, by Doris Pitkin Buck

Last up as sort of a postlude is a cautionary tale about telepathy.  A young esper woman is weary of her access to the primitive and lewed thoughts of the men around her — but she's even more horrified when the thoughts of an intended beaux do not incline toward the crude.

At least, I think that's the point of this story.

Three stars.

Cruising Altitude

And so we make it through another month of F&SF, this time without any untoward accidents, but also without many memorable incidents.  At some point, I expect the Vance will be fixed up into a book, and there won't be much reason to return to this issue.

I suppose tolerable mediocrity is better than significant dross.  We're due for a really good issue, though, I hope we get one next month!




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55 years ago: Science Fact and Fiction