Science / Space Race

[August 1, 1964] On Target (The Successful Flight of Ranger 7)

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With the recent American lunar triumph, it is appropriate to take a look back at the long road that winds from Sputnik and ends in Oceanus Procellarum…


by Gideon Marcus

Shooting the Moon

It all began with a dream.

The Moon has captured our imaginations since we were first definably human.  Some two thousand years ago, the Greeks learned that the Moon was our closest celestial companion; it took another 1800 years for Galileo to determine that it was a spherical body, not unlike the Earth. 

It is no surprise that this discovery spawned some of our earliest science fiction stories: Godwins's The Man in the Moone, Verne's From the Earth to the Moon, Wells' recently cinemized The First Men in the Moon. 

With the launch of Sputnik, the heavens were broken open, and science fiction could be made fact.  Indeed, just after the Soviets launched their first satellite, the engineers at Ramo-Wooldrige's (now TRW) Space Technology Laboratories, made plans to build their own Moon rocket out of boosters already in existence, mating the Thor missile they had developed with the Vanguard rocket's second and third stages.  With luck, they would have probe around the Moon less than a year after the inauguration of the Space Age.

It was an ambitious plan.  Too ambitious.  The first of the so-called Pioneers blew up on the launch pad.  The next, Pioneer 1, made it halfway to the Moon before, like Icarus, falling back to Earth.  Pioneer 2 barely limped out of the Earth's atmosphere before burning up.

So ended the first American Moon program.  Enter Jet Propulsion Laboratory (JPL).

Situated across the San Fernando Valley from its rival, JPL was working with Von Braun's Jupiter rocket, the same one that had launched America's first satellite, Explorer 1.  Unfortunately, JPL's first attempt, Pioneer 3, also faltered on the way. 

And then came the Soviets' turn.

Red Moon

1959 began with a Dream, a Russian Dream.  On January 3, Mechta ("dream") sailed off toward and past the Moon, the first human-made object to become a satellite of the Sun.  The American success of Pioneer 4, two months later, was subsequently eclipsed when the second Mechta impacted the Moon in September, depositing Soviet medals upon Earth's companion — the first interplanetary delivery. 

Capping off this lunar tour de force was the Soviet follow-up, called Luna 3, Lunik 3, and Mechta 3.  Not only did this probe sail around the Moon, but it took pictures.  These missions were not just engineering and prestige shots, they were returning valuable information about the Moon.  It had no magnetic field, for instance.  The never-before seen Far Side was curiously devoid of the "seas" that mottle its Earth-facing surface.

We had to know more.

Local Space Race

With JPL batting .500 with its Pioneers, STL decided it needed to do better than its .000 average (though, to be fair, the flight of Pioneer 1 was a triumph for its time).  Mating the Vanguard stages of its prior Pioneer rocket to the beefy Atlas ICBM, the boys from Redondo Beach were sure they could launch the first bonafide lunar observatory into orbit around the Moon.

It didn't work.  1959-60 saw four failed attempts, all botched because the bleeding-edge Atlas wasn't yet up to the task (and how reassuring that must have been to the Mercury astronauts who had to ride the thing in a couple of years!)

One team's failure is another's opportunity.  While the second STL lunar endeavor was ending in tears, JPL was already hard at work on its own second-generation Moon project: Ranger.

Ranger was actually two programs in one.  This reflected the tension between the engineers, who wanted a craft that could make it the Moon and return information about its surface (of immediate use to a crewed lunar program), and the scientists, who wanted not only to learn about the Moon, but the space between it and the Earth.

The first two Rangers weren't even built to go to the Moon.  Planned to be launched into high orbits on a combination of the Atlas and a powerful second stage called the Vega (this civilian stage later substituted with the military's Agena), Rangers 1 and 2 would measure magnetic fields and the solar wind.

Would, but never did.  Ranger 1 and Ranger 2 both were stranded in useless low orbits due to booster malfunctions (plus ça change).  On the other hand, the satellites themselves were sound, and a modified Block 1 Ranger became the highly successful Venus probe, Mariner 2, in 1962.

Never mind them.  Rangers 3-5 were the real lunar probes, even including giant balsawood pimples on the end, which housed seismometers that could survive impact with the Moon.  It was more important than ever that we know what the lunar surface was like now that President Kennedy had announced that we would, as a nation, put a man on the Moon and bring him safely back to Earth before the decade was out.

Easier said than done.  Ranger 3, launched in January 1962, missed the Moon.  Moreover, it sailed past while facing the wrong way.  The probe took no useful pictures, and a failure of the onboard computer prevented the acquisition of sky science data.

The identical Ranger 4 was both more and less successful.  From a launch and trajectory perspective, it was perfect: On April 26, 1962, Ranger 4 became the first American probe to hit the Moon.  Unfortunately, it was an inert frame of metal by that time; NASA might as well have shot a cannonball.  In fact, the probe never worked, the first Ranger not to function at all in space. 

Still, the mission was heralded (rightfully) as a partial success.  Surely Ranger 5, last in the Block 2 series, would be a win.

No dice.  Ranger 5, launched in October 1962, lost internal power shortly after take-off and sailed silently past the Moon two days later.

Sharper Focus

For those keeping count, the Americans were now 1 for 14 in the Moon Race, a record even worse than that of last year's San Francisco 49ers.  As 1962 drew to a close, JPL undertook an internal audit and came to the following conclusions:

  • JPL's management structure was unsuited to big, complicated projects like Ranger
  • Ranger was too complicated, too dependent on every system working perfectly
  • The general scientific objectives conflicted with the specific, Apollo-supporting objectives

The result was a beefed up management staff that would focus primarily on Ranger until the probe worked.  And a newer, leaner Ranger.

Ranger, Block 3, had one job.  It would crash into the Moon, taking TV pictures all the way down.  No other science experiments.  Up came the hue and cry from scientists, but the decision was made.  As it was, it would take at least another year to develop and launch Ranger 6.  It had to work.

It didn't.

Ranger 6 had a textbook launch on January 30, 1964.  Shortly after the probe reached space, its TV system inexplicably turned itself on and off, but otherwise, all was well.  Indeed, Ranger 6 cruised through its mid-flight course correction burn like a dream, pointed straight and true for the Moon's Sea of Tranquility.  JPL Director William Pickering felt confident enough to declare, "I am cautiously optimistic."

But when it came time for Ranger 6 to do its job, to take TV pictures of the Moon, it stubbornly refused.  The probe impacted the lunar surface without returning a single shot.

Uproar.  Six failures in a row.  There was serious Congressional talk of shutting down the Ranger program altogether.  On the other hand, the mission had been almost entirely successful.  There was every reason to believe (or at least hope) that improved check-out procedures on the next, already built, Ranger 7, would lead to a completely successful mission.  After a NASA investigation and a Congressional inquiry, JPL was given one more chance.

Dream into Reality

Opportunities for lunar missions come once a month, when the Moon is situated such that the least energy is required for a rocket from Earth to reach it.  The latest such apparition started on July 27, the opening of the lunar "window."  Ranger 7's powerful Atlas-Agena rocket, now the most reliable part of the mission infrastructure, stood ready on the launchpad.  The countdown was steady, until, just 51 minutes before the scheduled launch, a faulty telemetry battery had to be replaced.  It was, and the countdown resumed…but the a fatal flaw in a ground guidance component meant that the launch had to be scrubbed. 

But only for a day.  On July 28, the countdown proceeded smoothly, and at 9:50am PDT, Ranger 7 was sent into orbit.  The onboard TV system appeared to be working normally, and half an hour later, the Agena engine fired once more, propelling the spacecraft toward the Moon.

So accurate was this burn that Ranger 7 didn't need a mid-course correction to hit the Moon.  However, the path it was to take would carry it to the lunar Far Side, which would make the transmission of TV pictures impossible.  A day after launch, a short engine burn aimed the probe directly for its destination: The Sea of Clouds.

In the early morning on July 31, 1964, reporters and cameramen once again filed into JPL's von Karman Auditorium for Ranger 7's final descent.  Just six months ago, Ranger 6 had been so disappointing that Walter Downhower, the Chief of the System Design Section who had been the voice over the auditorium speakers that day, refused to ever do that job again.

This time, JPL's George Nichols was the voice of Ranger as it zoomed toward the Moon at 5000 miles per hour.  At 3:07am PDT (yes, I stayed up, too), Nichols was able to announce that Ranger's television system and its six cameras were working properly.  Three minutes later, the first images taken from the vicinity of the Moon began to pour in as a stream of ones and zeroes on a telemetry stream.  Five minutes went by.  Still going.  Ten minutes.  Then, at 6:25 PDT, the hum of Ranger's telemetry abruptly cut off.

But this was a planned cessation — Ranger had hit the Moon!

Where we Stand

In all, some 4,316 pictures were taken of the Moon, all of higher resolution than is possible from Earthbound telescopes.  JPL identified dozens of new craters, never before seen.  One cluster was probably made by rocks thrown into the sky when the giant impact crater, Copernicus, was formed ages ago, two hundred miles away from where Ranger 7 crashed.  More importantly, NASA has gotten its first close-up look of the lunar surface; JPL scientists have identified favorable and treacherous landscapes for the upcoming Apollo missions to land on.

There will be at least two more Block III Ranger flights aimed at other parts of the Moon.  Plans to continue the series through to #14 are in doubt given that the upcoming Lunar Orbiter project (managed by Langley Research Center in Virginia) may already be flying by the time the later Rangers are ready.

And what about the Soviets?  What happened to the madcap competitive days of 1958-9?

As it turns, out, the USSR has had just one lunar probe since then: Luna 4.  Launched during the gloomiest days of Ranger, on April 2, 1963, it was highly touted by Soviet news services.  Three days later, as the craft approached the Moon, TASS and Izvestia reported that a bonanza of science would be forthcoming.

Then…nothing.  The probe sailed past the Moon with hardly any coverage.  A couple of conferences scheduled for the discussion of Luna 4's results were quietly canceled.  Per the British astronomer, Sir Bernard Lovell, the craft actually failed in its mission to enter lunar orbit.

This brings up the interesting possibility that the Soviets have launched other Moon missions and that none of them have been successful enough to be publicly announced.  That would explain some of the Kosmos flights about which the Russians have been so terse in their reporting.  It may well be that the Soviet Union is finding the Moon as tough a target as the Americans were.

The bottom line, then, is this: After five years of diligent effort (presumably by both of the planet's Superpowers), the Americans have emerged the victors in this second stage of the Moon race.

Who will win the third?

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Book, Science Fiction/Fantasy

[July 30, 1964] Are You For Real? (Simulacron-3 AKA Counterfeit World by Daniel F. Galouye)

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by Victoria Silverwolf

Life is But a Dream

I dreamed I was a butterfly, flitting around in the sky; then I awoke. Now I wonder: Am I a man who dreamt of being a butterfly, or am I a butterfly dreaming that I am a man?

— Zhuangzi, Chinese philosopher, 4th century BC

Science fiction writers have often pondered the nature of reality, and speculated about the ways in which appearances can be deceiving. Among the many stories making use of this theme, a few stand out as particularly thoughtful explorations of the real and the illusory.


Phillips didn't make the cover.

First published in Astounding half a dozen years ago, The Yellow Pill by Rog Phillips presents two characters with contradictory views of reality. Each believes the other to be hallucinating. The drug mentioned in the title changes their view of things, and it's up to the reader to decide who is right, if either. The story obviously had a strong impact on readers, as it has already been reprinted in anthologies in the USA and the UK, as well as being adapted into an episode of the British television series Out of This World.


Pohl did.

A few years earlier, Frederik Pohl tackled a similar idea in his story The Tunnel Under the World. The inhabitants of a small town live the same nightmarish day over and over again. It turns out that neither the community nor its inhabitants are what they seem to be. This powerful tale of deception and manipulation of reality must have struck a chord, as it was quickly adapted into an episode of the radio series X Minus 1.


Note that this was published not as science fiction, but as a novel of menace.

Philip K. Dick's novel Time Out of Joint explores related concepts in a surrealistic way. The protagonist thinks he lives in a typical American suburb in 1959, the year the book was published. The reader soon discovers that something is odd about this version of our mundane world, such as the fact that nobody has ever heard of Marilyn Monroe. Things get really bizarre when a soft-drink stand disappears, replaced with a small slip of paper bearing the words SOFT-DRINK STAND. Further weird breakdowns of a simulated reality lead the hero to discover the truth about the world and himself.

Bits and pieces of all three of these works came to mind as I read the latest novel from an author whose previous books won a great deal of praise from the Galactic Journeyers.

The Visionary From the Big Easy


The author at the time he started publishing science fiction.

Born in New Orleans, Daniel Francis Galouye served in the US Navy during World War Two, returning to work as a journalist. Fortunately for SF fans, he doesn't limit his writing to reportage. Ever since 1952, he's appeared frequently in the genre magazines. It took him a while to make the leap into novels, but when he took the jump he did so with a splash.

Galouye's first book-length work, Dark Universe, made a big hit with our host, as well as with Hugo voters. It nearly took the prize, bested only by the unstoppable juggernaut of Robert A. Heinlein's controversial novel Stranger in a Strange Land, which was not so popular around here.

Although it was not nominated for a Hugo, Galouye's second novel, Lords of the Psychon, won plaudits from a Galactic Journeyer. Will he continue this lucky streak with his newest effort? Let's take a look and find out.

Planet of the Pollsters


The American edition, with anonymous cover art.


The British edition, with no cover art.

Simulacron-3, known in the United Kingdom as Counterfeit World, takes place in the middle of the 21st century. It's a technologically advanced place, with flying cars, moving pedestrian sidewalks, and many other wonders familiar to readers of futuristic fiction. The most noticeable change in society is that opinion polls dominate commercial and political life. One-quarter of all employees are engaged in this line of work, and answering their questions is mandatory. So far we have a satiric portrait of the business world, similar to the sort of thing Frederik Pohl and Cyril M. Kornbluth offered in their novel The Space Merchants, but Galouye has something else in mind.

Leaving the Party Too Soon

The narrator, Douglas Hall, works for business tycoon Horace P. Siskin, as a computer expert for Reactions, Incorporated (REIN). Like so many other companies in this future, REIN studies consumer reactions in order to determine which products will sell. The book begins with Douglas attending a party at Horace's fabulous mansion. He is about to take control of the Simulacron-3 project from the recently deceased Hannon Fuller, killed in what seems to be a freak accident.

Simulacron-3 is a computer-simulated community, inhabited by artificial people who interact with each other and their environment as if they were real. By studying their reactions to various situations, it is possible to determine how living persons would behave under the same circumstances. This threatens to eliminate the need for pollsters, putting them all out of work.

Morton Lynch, the security chief for REIN, shows up in an agitated state. He claims that Hannon discovered something of critical importance that led to his demise. Not much later, he simply vanishes into thin air. Douglas reports the disappearance, but nobody else even remembers that Morton ever existed. Because Douglas suffers from occasional blackouts, he begins to doubt his own sanity.

It Takes All the Running You Can Do to Stay in the Same Place

With the help of Hannon's adult daughter Jinx, Douglas searches through her father's papers. They find a drawing of an ancient Greek warrior and a tortoise. This is, of course, a reference to the famous Zeno paradox, in which Achilles can never catch up to the slow-moving animal. The relevance of the sketch is obscure, but it seems to be a vital clue to Hannon's secret. Whatever it may mean, it disappears quickly, and Jinx denies that she ever saw such a thing.

Tensions mount between REIN and the powerful pollsters organization, leading to mass demonstrations and the possibility of a violent attack on the company. As if Douglas didn't have enough problems, Siskin plans to use Simulacron-3 to predict voting behavior, in order to make himself the leader of a one-party state. Add to this the fact that Douglas narrowly escapes being killed, by a flying car and then a bomb, and our hero is in plenty of hot water. Complicating matters is the presence of Dorothy Ford, Siskin's personal secretary/mistress, who uses her seductive wiles to keep a close eye on Douglas in order to make sure he doesn't spill the beans about her employer's political ambitions. There's also the possibility that the police suspect Douglas murdered Hannon. The guy just can't catch a break!

I've mentioned a lot of characters, but I've also left out quite a few. The story involves a lot of plots and counterplots, with the narrator never quite sure who's working for him and who's working against him. Up to now we have a science fiction suspense story, with a whodunit aspect, but things are about to get a lot different.

Stop! Read No Further If You Don't Want to Learn the Big Secret!

Almost exactly halfway through the book, Galouye throws in a major plot twist. Astute readers may anticipate the revelation that follows, but others may not.

Are you sure you want to find out? Last chance to turn back. OK, here we go.

Douglas finds out that his entire world is a computer simulation, and that he himself is no more than an artificial human being living inside it. The rest of the novel deals with his effort to escape into the real world, while avoiding the efforts of the unseen, unknown, god-like person running the simulation to eliminate him.

It's Safe to Read Again

Simulacron-3 (or, if you prefer, Counterfeit World) is a fascinating, cleverly plotted novel, full of intriguing concepts and plenty of fast-paced action. If some parts are melodramatic, and if other aspects seem implausible, those are minor flaws compared to the intriguing theme. I suspect it will earn more praise for the author, and I wouldn't be too surprised if somebody adapts it into a movie someday; maybe even more than once!

Four stars.

Until next time, try to keep a grip on what's real!


An advertisement for a drug invented a few years ago.

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Fashion, music, politics, sports

[July 28, 1964] Beatlemania Arrives Down Under!

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by Kaye Dee

I was so excited last month to talk about the first Blue Streak test launch that I completely forgot to mention another huge event occurring in Australia in June — the first tour Down Under by The Beatles! Yes, the Fab Four made a whirlwind visit to Australia and New Zealand last month and Beatlemania took the country by storm. Mr. Kenn Brodziak, the local promoter, made a lucky investment when he booked The Beatles last July to tour here, because they weren’t anywhere near as famous then as they are now. The newspapers are even saying that this tour has been the most successful event in Australian show business history.


The Beatles, arriving in Adelaide

The band arrived in Australia from Hong Kong on 11 June. An unscheduled touchdown in Darwin in the early hours of the morning was a taste of things to come, with 400 fans and journalists turning out to greet them. Unfortunately, when their plane arrived in Sydney it was bitterly cold and pouring rain (remember, it’s winter right now in this part of the world): in fact, the rain was so heavy that I could not even get out the door to go to the university — I’d have been soaked to the skin before I got to the bus stop! Oddly enough, there hasn’t been a drop of rain since and the long-range weather forecaster Mr. Lennox Walker is now predicting a drought over the next year.

To tell the truth, I didn’t mind being stuck at home because of the downpour, since it meant that Faye and I could watch the live broadcast of The Beatles arrival at Kingsford Smith Airport. There is no morning television in Australia, but both Channel 9 and Channel 7, our two commercial stations, had outside broadcast vans at the airport to provide a direct telecast. The pictures were even relayed live to Melbourne via the new co-axial cable. It shows how much everyone wants to see this amazing pop group that has taken the world by storm! There were thousands of fans at Sydney airport, braving the awful weather to catch a glimpse of the Fab Four as they struggled with umbrellas in the driving wind and rain.


The Fab Three and Jimmie Nichols braving the rain in Sydney

I say the Fab Four, but when the band arrived in Sydney, it was actually the Fab Three and a ring-in. Ringo Starr had been hospitalised with tonsillitis and pharyngitis before the start of the tour and his place was being taken by British drummer Jimmie Nicol. Ringo wasn’t able to join the tour until their first concert in Melbourne on 16 June. 


The Beatles with Jimmie Nichols

The Beatles travelled to Adelaide on a chartered plane for their first concert and when they arrived, more than 250,000 people lined the route between Adelaide Airport and the city. According to my WRE friends, this huge turnout was a ‘thank you’ to recognise that the promoter had added Adelaide to the tour schedule in response to a petition signed by 80,000 fans. I’ve read that this is the largest crowd to turn out for the Beatles so far, anywhere in the world! There’s certainly been nothing like it in Australia before: I even heard a commentator on the radio say that the eruption of Beatlemania in Australia has been more intense than anywhere else in the world so far! Mind you, not everyone has welcomed the Beatles so enthusiastically. In Brisbane, where their plane arrived at midnight to be greeted by 8,000 fans, a handful of anti-Beatles protesters threw eggs at the boys, which I think was a pretty stupid gesture.


There's Jimmie Nichol again

The Beatles played 20 shows in Australia — in Adelaide, Melbourne, Sydney and Brisbane and everywhere they were greeted by enormous crowds of screaming fans. There were a lot of reports in the press about ‘hundreds’ of fans in Adelaide and Melbourne being injured in the crowds, although Mr. Brian Epstein, The Beatles’ manager said in response to a question at the Canberra Press Club that he believes these reports to be greatly exaggerated. The police took them seriously in Sydney, though, and more than 600 officers of the Special B Squad were on duty around their concerts and other appearances in the city, to prevent major disturbances.

Faye and I managed to get tickets to one of the Sydney concerts (yes, I admit we’re fans, even if we might be a little bit older and less-inclined to scream than most of the audience). The tickets cost us 37 shillings ($3.70) each, which certainly wasn’t cheap, but it was well worth it to see the Fab Four performing live. It was just as well that we could see them, because I’ve got to say that we could hardly hear them over the screaming of the young fans. It was even more hysterical than at the Frank Sinatra concert I went to in Sydney in 1961! 


Screaming fans in Sydney

The concert itself was really entertaining. The first half of the show consisted of four Australian support acts, including Johnny Devlin (something of a favourite of mine) and Johnny Chester, who are well-known Australian singers. The local acts performed for about 45 minutes, then, after the interval, The Beatles came on for the second half of the concert. In half an hour, they gave us 10 songs from their first two albums, as well as Can’t Buy Me Love from their ‘A Hard Day’s Night’ album, which has just been released in Australia this month. Of course, I would have loved them to perform more songs, but, as they did two shows every night (one at 6pm and the second at 8:30pm), there wasn’t time for any more. I’m told that the concerts had the same format in each city and it must have been incredibly exhausting for all the performers.


On stage at Sydney

On 18 June, while The Beatles were in Sydney, Paul McCartney celebrated his 22nd birthday, with a party thrown by the Daily Mirror newspaper. After the Sydney concerts, the Beatles made an eight-day tour of New Zealand, where they performed 12 concerts in four cities. 10,000 fans saw them off from the airport in Sydney. There was an article in the newspaper saying that Johnny Devlin actually helped to solve major sound problems at the concerts in Wellington, which had annoyed John Lennon so much that he threatened to cancel the remainder of the tour. Fortunately that didn’t happen and the Fab Four were back in Australia at the end of June for their final concerts in Brisbane.


The Beatles, off to New Zealand

The Beatles tour has been a major event in Australia, with more media coverage than just about anything apart from a Royal Tour! I suspect that it’s going to have a big impact on music and teenage culture in this country. I also suspect that these talented young men from Britain are destined to go on to achieve great things in the world of music and entertainment.

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




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Movies, Science Fiction/Fantasy

[July 26, 1964] Yesterday's Tomorrows (First Men in the Moon and Other Steam Science Fiction Movies)

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by Victoria Silverwolf

Monsieur Verne and Mister Wells at the Movies

A decade ago, Walt Disney Productions had a big hit on their hands with their cinematic adaptation of the famous Jules Verne novel 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea. It was popular with both audiences and critics, winning Academy Awards for Art Direction and Special Effects. It was a lovely film, full of charming details combining futuristic technology with aesthetics of the past.

The super-submarine Nautilus; a thing of beauty.

The success of this nostalgic science fiction adventure led to a number of Verne adaptations. Most notable was Around the World in 80 Days, a lush, big budget production notable for the number of Hollywood stars who made cameo appearances.

Old Blue Eyes in a tiny role as a piano player.

Since then we've had enjoyable films taken from the French author of Extraordinary Voyages, including Journey to the Center of the Earth, Master of the World, and Mysterious Island, all reviewed here at Galactic Journey.  A couple of lesser Verne adaptations, namely Valley of the Dragons and Five Weeks in a Balloon, did not escape the acid pen of our local critics.  There was also From the Earth to the Moon, which somehow managed to slip under the radar of our Galactic Journeyers.  This was a handsomely filmed, if rather dull, account of an American munitions manufacturer (Joseph Cotton) using a powerful explosive to send a spaceship to the Moon just after the Civil War.


Blast off!

Not to be outdone, H. G. Wells, the British master of Scientific Romances, came to the big screen not too long ago in the George Pal production of The War of the Worlds, another Oscar winner for Best Special Effects.

A Martian war machine on the prowl for Earthlings.

Although this version of the story updated the setting to modern times, Pal returned to the Nineteenth Century with an even more highly regarded Wells adaptation, The Time Machine, which won kudos from our host.

With the exception of The War of the Worlds, what these films have in common is the fact that they take place in the Victorian Era. For lack of a better term, we might refer to this sub-genre of fantastic cinema as Steam Science Fiction. I was recently able to attend a secret sneak preview of the latest offering of this kind, already released in the United Kingdom, and due to appear in American theaters later this year. Watch for the trailer the next time you're at your local cinema.

Fly Me to the Moon; Or, A Trip to the Moon on Gossamer Wings


In Dynamation and LunaColor, no less.

First Men in the Moon is directed by Nathan Juran, a veteran of science fiction films, both good (20 Million Miles to Earth) and not so good (The Brain from Planet Arous.) The screenplay for this British production comes from the combined pens of Nigel Kneale (best known to SF fans across the pond for his television serials The Quatermass Experiment and Quatermass II) and Jan Read, who contributed to the delightful fantasy film Jason and the Argonauts.


Don't forget, it's in, not on.

We begin in the near future, as an international team of astronauts land on the Moon.  They find a Union Jack and a note claiming the satellite in the name of Queen Victoria.


A mystery!

The note happens to be written on the back of a legal contract mentioning the name Katherine Callender.  Investigation leads to the discovery of Arnold Bedford, the man Miss Callender married long ago, now nearly a century old.  He tells his incredible story, and we go into a long flashback, firmly in the land of Steam Science Fiction.


Martha Hyer and Edward Judd as the two Victorian lovebirds.

In 1899, our happy couple encounter Joseph Cavor, an eccentric scientist who creates a substance that deflects gravity. Having a healthy ego, he names the stuff Cavorite.   As if that were not enough, he plans to use it to launch a spaceship on a lunar voyage.


Lionel Jeffries as the inventor.

Arnold agrees to go to the Moon with Cavor, which seems like a rash decision for a man about to be married.  Through a series of unforeseen circumstances, Katherine winds up accidentally accompanying them; you know how much trouble women are!  The unlikely trio winds up on the surface of Earth's satellite after a particularly rough landing.


The charming little spaceship approaches its target.

Katherine is left behind, no doubt to prepare tea and crumpets, while the two men don diving suits and set out to explore this strange new world.

Things really get interesting when our heroes fall down a shaft and wind up inside the Moon, justifying the title.  It seems that the interior is inhabited by insect-like, sentient beings, whom Cavor dubs Selenites.  The plot, mostly played for light comedy up to this point, takes a more serious turn when Arnold, panicking at the sight of the aliens, attacks and kills several of them.  The two men escape back to the surface, only to discover that the Selenites have dragged their spaceship, and the woman inside it, underground.


A Selenite, brought to life through the magic of Dynamation.

What follows is a fast-moving adventure, as the intrepid pair explore the city of the Selenites in search of Katherine, battle a huge, caterpillar-like monster, and encounter the Grand Lunar, ruler of the Selenites.   An interesting aspect of the story is the contrast between Cavor, the man of science, who wants to exchange knowledge with the Selenites, and Arnold, the man of action, who believes they pose a threat to humanity.


What good is a science fiction thriller without a huge monster?


The Grand Lunar, not at all happy about human aggressiveness.

An ironic ending brings us back to the near future, as we find out what happened to the three explorers and the Selenites.

Adding greatly to the film's appeal is the outstanding stop-motion animation of Ray Harryhausen.  The eerie and imaginative world inside the Moon excites the viewer's sense of wonder, and the Victorian design of Cavor's spaceship provides a great deal of charm.  You might have to be a little bit patient with the relaxed pace of the opening scenes, but the result is well worth the wait.

Four stars.

As we enter a new era of space exploration, with the very real possibility that a human being will stand on the surface of the Moon within a decade, it's fitting that we look back on those who imagined the future and wrote about it.  I hope that more Steam Science Fiction movies appear in theaters in the days to come, and that we never forget the dreamers of yesteryear.

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




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Conventions/Performances

[July 24, 1964] Much Ado About Something (Time Travel, San Diego-style)

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[Galactic Journey is not the only San Diego organization that specializes in time travel.  Read on and learn about a most extraordinary endeavour happening downtown…]


by Victoria Lucas

As I had hoped in my last message, I made it to San Francisco and now live and here at the end of the "J" streetcar line, at Church and 30th. At first the streetcar woke me up every morning sometime before 6 am, when it makes the "J" figure to turn around at the top on 30th and then squeals down Church to begin its run downtown, where I work. Eventually I got used to it. The only things that wake me up now are the fights the managing couple stages many nights in which she tends to yell out a window into the inner courtyard at 3 am when they are both drunk, and he mutters in the background.

I didn't drive directly here–I really had to stop in San Diego to see a friend of mine in the Shakespeare play I've messed with in my title. I had never been to the San Diego Old Globe Theatre in Balboa Park (one of a number of "Globe Theatres" around the world). More important, I wanted to be sure to see my friend Alan Fudge one last time. Oh, and Alan got me a complimentary ticket (known in the biz as a "comp"). All I had to do was get there, park, and not get lost.

ground view Old Globe
Walking to the Old Globe Theatre

I was first exposed to Shakespeare in high school, and was interested in his language and how he had invented many of the words we take for granted today. We studied his tragedies: I never will understand why teenagers, who have such strong emotions and who often dramatize their lives in tragic terms, as if tempted to try to fit into universal clichés, are made to study tragedy and trauma in literature, instead of biography, humor, politics, and satire.

Nevertheless, I am always fascinated to watch the plays, set as they are in strange surroundings–not on other planets, because it wouldn't have occurred to authors in the 16th and 17th centuries to use such settings–but in other countries so far away and so foreign that the typical person in Shakespeare's audience would have been as likely to journey to the moon as to Denmark (the scene of "Hamlet") or Italy (where the play I saw, "Much Ado About Nothing," is set). Like science fiction, Shakespeare's plays were always located in barely imaginable places, with happenings both close to and removed from the everyday lives of audience members, sometimes for political reasons.

actress as Queen Elizabeth
Queen Elizabeth and subject (actors at a festival) —courtesy of San Diego State University Special Collections

Although "Much Ado About Nothing" depicts rather ordinary humans with ordinary passions, some of Shakespeare's fantasies, such as "Midsummer Night's Dream," imagined very implausible creatures, such as these from an earlier production at the Old Globe.

Titania with donkey-headed man
The queen of the fairies kisses a donkey —courtesy of San Diego State University Special Collections

The San Diego Old Globe was built to evoke Elizabethan times just by its architecture. Because it is modeled after the original London theater, entering the building is like climbing out of a time machine. It is hard not to hesitate at the door as if unsure how to behave in the year 1609, when this play, for instance, was first performed.

San Diego's Old Globe Theatre
Postcard of The Old Globe Theatre, San Diego —courtesy of San Diego State University Special Collections

As in Shakespeare's time, the area below the stage is open to the weather, this part of the theater (now with benches) being called "The Pit", where I could almost see an unruly crowd heckling the players. But the time-machine like quality even extends to the festival performances outside, where people from another era are likely to erupt from buildings or from behind trees.

men and women dance out a door
Actors run onto the festival green —courtesy of San Diego State University Special Collections

So it is a shock to recognize a familiar person under the greasepaint and in costume. Alan was a student in the University of Arizona Drama Department when I worked there, which for me was only last month! As departmental secretary I was only three years older than he, and he was friendly, funny, and hung around the office just enough so that I saw a lot of him and we became good friends. I saw Alan in a lot of plays, too, since after I ran the box office and stashed the cash I went into the theater and acted as a clacker–someone who laughs and/or claps on cue to encourage the rest of the audience to do so.

During the Shakespeare Quadricentennial this year Alan played Conrade, "Friend to Borachio" in "Much Ado About Nothing."

program for Much Ado About Nothing
Shakespeare Festival program

I was enchanted. I had been to only amateur theater the past two years, and this professional production was something to see on the Balboa Park stage. I could almost feel myself in the very first Globe Theatre in London, as The Bard Himself trod the boards.

Alan was a bit too whimsical as a student to take himself and the theater very seriously. In this play he had to be a minor villain helping with a foul deed, and he did it well. I concluded that I had seen him in bud form and now he was blossoming beautifully. He didn't have any publicity photos of himself in costume, so he slipped me this one as we sat in the Falstaff Tavern next door to the theater. He didn't autograph it, and I didn't ask him to. After all, I'm not a fan, just a proud friend.

Alan Fudge in a sweater
Alan Fudge —courtesy of San Diego State University Special Collections

I came away convinced that Alan is indeed headed for Broadway and even the movies or TV when not on the Shakespearean stage. Look for him! And if you find yourself in San Diego for any reason, I strongly urge that you not miss out on your chance to time travel, in the Elizabethan manner…at the Old Globe.

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




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Magazine

[July 22, 1964] (August 1964 Fantasy and Science Fiction)

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by Gideon Marcus

(If you found us at San Diego Comic-Con and can't figure out why we seem to be 55 years behind you, this should clear things up!)

Bayside Heroics

This weekend, the family and I took a mini-vacation in our home town.  Living in the suburbs as we do, it's easy to forget that San Diego has so much to offer.  Balboa Park, Old Town, the Gaslamp, not to mention the docks and the waterfront. 

Of course, being who we are, we needed some kind of event to anchor the trip, such excuse being provided by a little get together of comics enthusiasts ambitiously dubbed "Comic-Con."  I think San Diego is big enough to warrant a real SFF con — perhaps we'll get our equivalent of Lunacon someday?

Anyway, time travel was the theme, and I ran across this fellow who looked a bit like a medieval version of me:

There were also these fantastic women dressed up as Spy vs. Spy from Mad Magazine.  Very impressive!

All was not roses, however.  I took along some reading material to while away the calm hours by the hotel poolside, a bunch of books and the latest issue of Fantasy and Science Fiction.  I had (dim) hopes that this installment might reverse, or at least halt, the declining trend in the magazine's quality.  Alas, such was not meant to be.

The Issue at Hand


Cover by James Roth

A Bulletin from the Trustees of the Institute for Advanced Research at Marmouth, Mass., by Wilma Shore

It's always a good idea to start your magazine with a hook, your best stuff.  Instead, Editor Davidson led the August 1964 issue with a short piece by newcomer Wilma Shore, a dialog between a scientist from the present and an everyman from the future — one that proves utterly fruitless.  It's the sort of throwaway gag that Jack Benny might make mildly amusing.  Here, it just droops like a wet rag.

Two stars.

"I Had Vacantly Crumpled It into My Pocket … But By God, Eliot, It Was a Photograph from Life!", by Joanna Russ

Evoking but not aping Lovecraft, Joanna Russ' latest turn involves a fellow with a taste for the pulps and nothing fantastical written since 1940ish.  An abrasive anti-social, he unexpectedly finds his love in a park, her nose in a tome by the long-dead H.P.  But does she really exist?  And what ominous specter animates her, gives her purpose?

Russ never fails to deliver something atmospheric, but in the end, I found the piece as insubstantial as the story's mysterious femme fatale.

Three stars.

Poor Planet, by J. T. McIntosh

A few pages into this "latest" tale by McIntosh, I had a distinct impression of deja vu.  In fact, my description from his story in the April 1959 Satellite, The Solomon Plan, will summarize things quite adequately:

"A terran spy tries to succeed where all of his predecessors have failed before: solving the mystery of the backward planet of [Solitaire].  Where the other planets of the 26th century terran federation enjoy a correspondingly advanced quality of life, the hyper-patriotic [Solitaire] seems to be stuck in the 20th century.  Moreover, their population is unaccountably low given the length of time it has been settled."

In fact, Poor Planet is almost identical to the prior tale (which, itself, was a reprint!) including the sub-plot involving our middle-aged spy meeting with, and ultimately turning, a young local spy.  However, in this one, the spy spends much of his time leering at the girl, noting her affections for him, and then decides that it's best if he be her new father-figure.  Because all girls (even ones who are adults) need a daddy, and her current one wasn't doing his job very well.

I thought the original story decent if somewhat implausible.  This new version is the worse for its ickyness.

Two stars.

Nada, by Thomas M. Disch

I had such high hopes for this one.  It starts like something from the pen of Zenna Henderson, a sweeping piece about a teacher trying to connect with a gifted but apathetic pre-teen.  But what starts out like the next installment of The People falters and ends as a lesser episode of The Twilight Zone. 

Two stars.

The Red Cells, by Theodore L. Thomas

Another short "Science Springboard" piece in which Mr. Thomas says that, since red blood cells are more robust in our youth, that the key to youth is to strengthen our red blood cells.  Correlation, causation… what's the difference?

Two stars.

Epitaph for the Future, by Ethan Ayer

Decent but forgettable poetry about a man (or a planet) and his/its desire for a plain, unadorned grave.

Three stars?

A Nice, Shady Place, by Dennis Etchison

Another newcomer, and a story straight from Weird Tales.  Young woman with freckled skin (we are told this many times) goes to summer camp with her lip-licking (we are told this many times) boyfriend to find out what became of her brother.  Turns out that the campers are all forcibly made hosts to salamander-thingies that take over their minds.  A la The Puppet Masters.

Young Etchison has not yet learned Polonius's dictum, and the piece is pure corn.

Two stars.

Redman, by Robert Lipsyte and Thomas Rogers

Lipsyte and Rogers offer a perhaps prescient look into the television of tomorrow, when shows won't just simulate violence but will actually feature real violence.  In this case, the program is Massacre, portraying the slaughter of the White Man at the hand of the Indians.  Except, in this case, the Blue-eyed Devils aren't actors.

At first, I thought this was going to be an interesting take on (perhaps justified) revenge by the consistently decimated natives of our continent, as seen by an actor who derives lineage from both camps.  In the end, I'm really not sure what the two authors were trying to say.

Two stars.

The Days of Our Years, by Isaac Asimov

If you want to know how the calendar got to be the way it is today, the good Doctor's article is a nice primer on the subject.  There's little in here I didn't know, but it was a fun read, nevertheless.  Also, I happen to know that the entertainer, whom he got off the hot seat by performing in his place, was none other than Tom Lehrer.

Four stars.

When the Change-Winds Blow, by Fritz Leiber

This one started well enough — a fellow wings through the air of partially terraformed Mars, trying to forget the atomic destruction that savaged Earth and killed his would-be beloved.  But it then segues into a vividly (one might uncharitably say "purplishly") rendered lucid dream involving a cathedral of sand and people from a poem.  I didn't like it.  I'm sure it'll be nominated for the Hugo.

One star.

In the Calendar of Saints, by Leonard Tushnet

Last up is (yet another) Deal with the Devil story, this one won by Old Nick.  The gotcha is only mildly clever, but the portrayal of Communist Poland, with which Tushnet is well-acquainted, is fascinating.

Three stars.

Summing Up

It's a good thing the rest of the weekend was such a blast because this issue was really quite lacking.  Oh well.  You tune in for the sardonic (half) wit, right?  On the positive side, there was some discussion of a renewal of The Twilight Zone.  The issue is finding a new host since Serling doesn't want the job anymore.

I have a modest proposal…

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




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Magazine, Science Fiction/Fantasy

[July 20, 1964] Dashed Hopes (August 1964 Fantastic)

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by Victoria Silverwolf

(if you found us at San Diego Comic-Con and can't figure out why we seem to be 55 years behind you, this should clear things up!)

Bad News Drives Out Good News

This month started off in a optimistic way, as President Johnson signed the Civil Rights Act on July 2, after a long struggle with Dixiecrats (segregationist Southern Democrats) and some Republicans.


An historic moment.

The very next day, restaurant owner and unsuccessful political candidate Lester Maddox, with the help of fellow segregationists wielding ax handles, drove three civil rights activists away from his Pickrick Cafeteria.


I hope he continues to lose elections in his native state of Georgia.

Not to be outdone, George Wallace, Governor of Alabama, made an impassioned speech against the Civil Rights Act on the Fourth of July.


You can see the anger that fills this man.

Never before in the history of this nation have so many human and property rights been destroyed by a single enactment of the Congress. It is an act of tyranny. It is the assassin’s knife stuck in the back of liberty. With this assassin’s knife and a blackjack in the hand of the Federal force-cult, the left-wing liberals will try to force us back into bondage.

I don't think I need to point out the bitter irony of Wallace's tirade being delivered on Independence Day. If my disgust at his rhetoric makes me a left-wing liberal, so be it.

On the international front, any hope that United States involvement in the conflict in Vietnam might be lessened was crushed during the Battle of Nam Dong. North Vietnamese forces attacked a camp manned by three hundred and sixty South Vietnamese soldiers, twelve American Green Berets, and one Australian adviser. When the fighting ended, fifty-seven South Vietnamese, two Americans, and the Australian were dead.


Artist's impression of the battle

After such discouraging developments at home and abroad, it seems petty and selfish to concern myself with trivial matters of entertainment. Be that as it may, I couldn't help feeling annoyed when the upbeat Beach Boys tune I Get Around lost its Number One position in the USA to Rag Doll, another cloying melody from my personal bête noire, the Four Seasons.


I won't worry; your music is pretty good.


Silence would definitely be better.

The Issue at Hand

When nothing else pleases me, I turn to imaginative fiction to take me away from my troubles. Unfortunately, after having my expectations raised by last month's excellent offerings, the latest issue of Fantastic proves to be a disappointment.


Cover art and interior art by Emsh

When the Idols Walked (Part 1 of 2), by John Jakes

Brak the Barbarian, whom we've seen a few times before, returns in this new sword-and-sorcery adventure.

The mighty hero is captured when the Bad Guys invade a place he's just passing through and make him a galley slave. A raging storm threatens to sink the huge fleet of slave ships, until the traditional beautiful but evil sorceress calms the sea. Not all is well, however, because a sorcerer from the invaded land shows up in his own ship, and a fierce battle of magic results. After a lot of natural and supernatural violence, Brak falls into the ocean and is washed up on the shore of the next place the Bad Guys intend to conquer.

Things get a lot more complicated after Brak is nursed back to health by the beautiful (but not evil) daughter of a merchant. It seems that the merchant has an enemy with the power to control the spirits of two dead men. One was a strangler, and his ghost still possesses the ability to kill people with a spectral rope. The other was an informer and a libertine and, so we're told, even more wicked than the other. This one can inhabit statues, bringing them to life. (Yes, that's when the idols walk.) Besides all this, the Bad Guys are on the march, the brave ruler of the land is off defending the border, and an ineffective vizier is in charge during his absence. Let's not forget about the sorceress, who is out to destroy Brak.

As you can see, a heck of a lot goes on in this fast-moving adventure. The author writes vividly, particularly during the storm and the sea battle, and when a statue of a sinister, one-eyed god comes to life and attacks. It's too bad that the whole thing is so similar to Robert E. Howard's tales of Conan, and feels like it belongs in the yellowed, crumbling pages of a 1930's issue of Weird Tales.

Two stars.

The Scent of Love, by Larry Eisenberg

Human colonists on an alien world make use of the fruit of a local tree. Their problem is that a particularly large and nasty insect attacks the trees. A scientist obtains a substance from female insects that attracts male insects, so they can be trapped and killed. You won't be surprised to discover that this method has unintended consequences. What happens is predictable, and makes me wonder why the colonists didn't anticipate it.

Two stars.

The Failure, by David R. Bunch

Here's another strange and disturbing piece from a writer with a style like nobody else. It's very hard to follow, but as best as I can tell it has something to do with one character seeking ultimate knowledge, and the narrator reacting to the results of his quest. If it has a point, it may be the futility of all human effort. As usual for Bunch, the frenzied language of the story holds the reader's attention, but it's not a pleasant experience.

Two stars.

Family Portrait, by Morgan Kent

This brief tale from a new author starts off with a typical evening at home, as Mom and Dad try to get their young child to go to bed. Things get odd about halfway through the story, and the characters turn out to be something other than ordinary. That's about all there is to an inoffensive, if trivial, bit of whimsy.

Two stars.

Footnote to an Old Story, by Jack Sharkey

A meek little fellow goes on vacation on a Greek island, where he falls in unrequited love with a beautiful young woman.   After reading the Bible story about Samson, he grows his hair long. Apparently through sheer will power he changes himself into a muscular he-man and gains the attention of the woman. You'll predict what happens at the end, given the setting, the woman's name, and, unfortunately, the excellent illustration by Virgil Finlay, which gives away the whole thing. It's pretty well written, but way too long for a story with an obvious twist ending.


I warned you it gave away the plot.

Two stars.

Dangerous Flags: Another Adventure of the Green Magician, by Thomas M. Disch

This is a goofy fantasy, or maybe a mock fairy tale, set in an absurd version of the modern world. Coal gas emerges from underground mines in a Pennsylvania town, threatening the local population. The Green Magician (who, as far as I can tell, has never had any other adventures, at least in published fiction) fights the sinister English Teacher and her Rich Nephew. (The capitals are the author's.) A lot of random stuff happens. The English Teacher asks some inexplicable riddles. The Green Magician turns into powder. The English Teacher recites three poems. A Snow Fairy shows up. I guess it's supposed to be funny, but I didn't get much amusement out of it. I have the feeling that Disch is making fun, in a disdainful and superior way, of the kind of stories that appear in Fantastic.

Two stars.

Land of the Yahoos, by Adam Bradford, M.D.


Illustration by George Schelling.

If the Fates are kind, this will be the last rehashing of Gulliver's Travels from the pen of Doctor Joseph Wassersug, hiding under the name of his fictional narrator. As we saw three times before, he winds up in one of Swift's imaginary realms. This time it's the land of the Houyhnhnms, a race of intelligent horses, and the Yahoos, a clan of bestial human beings. He doesn't spend much time with the highly civilized Houyhnhnms, and most of the story is an obvious analogy between the Yahoos and modern society. The Yahoos are greedy for rocks, the way people are greedy for money; they waste time at social gatherings they don't really enjoy, the way people attend dull cocktail parties; and so on. As in previous entries in this series, the author wastes a lot of time getting the narrator to his destination. This story also drags on near the end, as the narrator completes a minor task mentioned in a previous tale. By making the Yahoos semi-civilized, with clothing and a language, Wassersug weakens the intent of Swift's misanthropic satire.

One star.

Look for the Silver Lining

After a particularly dismal bunch of stories, things can only go up from here. Maybe the next issue will be better. I can also look forward to a promising new film based on a classic tale by one of the pioneers of science fiction, as well as the latest novel from an author whose first book was nominated for a Hugo. Watch for my reports on these two exciting possibilities in the near future. Until then, remember to let a smile be your umbrella!


A scene from the new French film Les parapluies de Cherbourg (The Umbrellas of Cherbourg), not yet seen in the USA, in which all the dialogue is sung. I guess that makes it a fantasy film.

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Book

[July 18, 1964] Dog Day Crop (July's Galactoscope)

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by Gideon Marcus

Thank you for joining this month's edition of Galactoscope, where we plow through all the books that came out this most recent month of June/July 1964! Don't thank us; it's all part of the job…

(and if you found us at San Diego Comic-Con and can't figure out why we seem to be 55 years behind you, this should clear things up!)

Times Two

Time Travel has been a staple of the genre since before the genre had been formalized. H. G. Wells' The Time Machine is still a classic, and it was written last century. In the Journey's short tenure, we have encountered at least a dozen tales involving chronological trips, with notable books including John Brunner's Times without Number and Wallace West's River of Time, not to mention the stand-out tales, All you Zombies!, by Robert Heinlein (and his less stand-out tale, By His Bootstraps) and The Deaths of Ben Baxter, by Robert Sheckley.

This month, we have two variations on the theme, both invoking time in their title:

Time Tunnel, by Murray Leinster

As the specter of nuclear war threatens to manifest, a post-graduate student named Harrison is summering in Paris, waiting for school to resume. By chance, he runs across Pepe, a fiery Spaniard (are there any other kinds in books?) and fellow former student who reunites Harrison with Professor Carroll, late of the archaeology department of Harrison and Pepe's alma mater. It turns out that Carroll has made a tremendous discovery: he as learned how to bridge the gulf between eras. No special machine is required; one must simply find a sizeable hunk of cast metal that has been left alone since the time of its forger.

Carroll's private time tunnel goes back exactly 160 years to the France of Napoleon's time. Thus far, the professor has made little use of it, save to satisfy his wife's pecuniary avarice. She has enlisted her brother to start a little shop that sells perfectly preserved antiques pinched from 1804. But when the Harrison learns that someone from 1964 is undertaking to sell secrets of the future to the scientists of the past, he and his compatriots must stop the interference before history changes for good. In addition, they must complete their mission before rising international tensions instigate a nuclear war in the present, sealing off (and perhaps destroying) the time tunnel.

It's a great setup! We've seen fixed tunnels to the past, as recently as in River in Time, but they aren't common in the genre. I find them particularly compelling as they make points in the past more tangible destinations. One can't pick historical highlights at random; they have to soak in the local atmosphere one second at a time, just like the natives. I've even toyed with the idea of making a fanzine with that conceit, perhaps with a time shift of (to pick a length at random) 55 years. That would put me in 1909 with plenty of time to capture the pulp era as it happens.

Something to think about.

The problem with Tunnel is the same problem that has bedeviled most of his latest stuff — it's too long. Indeed, Tunnel is about three times longer than the story calls for, in large part because the author repeats everything he says several times throughout the book. Heck, Harrison's party doesn't even get to old France until halfway through the book, and then it mostly stays to the back roads and farms that have not significantly changed in "nearly two centuries" as Leinster insists on calling about a century-and-a-half.

It's too bad. There's an exciting novella here under all the chaff.

Three stars.

The Time Twisters, by J. Hunter Holly

The newest book by Ms. (the J. stands for Joan) Holly has the opposite problem: the writing is quite compelling, but the story doesn't work.

The time is present day, the protagonists the Garrison family — Rick, Lynn, and six year-old daughter Tina. We start with the family already ill at ease. A neighborhood boy has gone missing, and shortly before, a big brown patch appeared in his yard. Then, while touring an amusement park to distract themselves, a cluster of bright lights appear in the sky, eerie and menacing.

Over the course of the next few days, more children disappear. Tina longs to be allowed outside, affected by a sirensong the adults cannot hear. A monster appears on the block, terrifying the neighborhood. The Army appears and sets up camp around the small Great Lakes town. Throughout it all, Rick is suspicious of his new boarder, Marcus Jantz. That is, until Marcus helps defeat the monster, which turns out to be a tin-plated prop. Obviously, the alien invasion shtick is a ruse, a cover for something else. But what?

It turns out (as has been teased since the beginning, but it takes Rick a while to learn) that Marcus is actually an agent from the future. In this future, aliens have appeared, demanding millions of their children. But humanity of the future is near-sterile, thanks to an overabundance of nuclear energy. Their only source for children is the past, hence a series of raids throughout history. Indeed, the Pied Piper legend has roots in truth, a kidnapping strike from a century long distant. In the end, Rick follows the last child to be abducted, his own, into the future, where he makes a desperate plea to Marcus to let their children go.

The Time Twisters is a very quick read by a talented author (who, like Andre Norton, stays out of the genre magazines). The characters are nicely drawn, the situations nicely tense. Unfortunately, the plot is absurd. Any people with time travel have already won any war they might face. Moreover, surely the indiscriminate removal of ancestors must destroy countless future generations.

Still, I was entertained on my latest trip to Japan, and thus, I give this very flawed piece a full three stars.

And now, I turn things over to Mark Yon, who contributes the second half of this month's column…

Ace Double F-275: No Truce with Terra, by Philip E. High; and The Duplicators, by Murray Leinster


by Mark Yon

My latest read is one that I had delivered to me from my friends in the States. As it is an Ace Double, and being someone never to knowingly avoid a cliché, I must say that it is a book of two halves (although The Duplicators is a little longer than the other story): as befits a double book, they are quite different in tone and style.

No Truce with Terra

No Truce with Terra examines the premise of what might happen if Earth was invaded — not by the traditional all-guns-blazing War of the Worlds style invasion but instead by stealth. Written by Brit Philip E. High, it begins quite normally but soon becomes strange. Scientist Lipscombe goes home from work one evening to find that his fibroplastic home will not allow him entrance. All attempts to break-in are thwarted.

Furthermore, over the next few days the house changes shape and unusual objects appear to grow around the outside of the house. There’s some electric blue grass and a plant that gives those who touch it a near-lethal electric shock, for example. Impressions are that they are alien, a means of colonising the planet before taking overall control, a bridgehead before the full-blown invasion.

Michael Lipscombe and his colleague Peter Collard become part of the scientific observation group. Then the “house” is surrounded by the British Army and attacked, the house retaliates – “they have set the dog on us” is the summary from Lipscombe.

Lipscombe and Collard are evacuated to a research centre in the North of Scotland as the alien threat spreads. With their mentor Stanley Dyson, obviously “one of the greatest names in science”, they determine that the invading force is a form of “natural electronic life” which has evolved naturally on another planet.

The scientists create a contraption that warps the fabric of space time and allows the humans to be granted access to the alien world. They do so, believing that such an action would create an escape route for humans and also allow them to create a secret base that can organise retaliatory actions.

All of this is basically World War Two re-written, of course. It’s interesting, if a little predictable, beginning with lots of stoic scientists discussing things and then frantic battles between the military and the aliens.

What we also get is the alien perspective, that they are willing to discuss terms of future contact through Collard, who they select as an emissary between the two races. The aliens are odd but not the unholy terrors that other stories would have you believe, and it is this aspect that makes this fast-paced story readable.

Three stars.

The Duplicators, by Murray Leinster

The second story is longer (an expansion, in fact, of Lord of the Uffts), but I found it less enjoyable. This time around it is the humans doing the invading, in a faux- Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur's Court kind of way. The Duplicators tells us of Link Denham, a non-too-scrupulous gadabout who, when he drunkenly signs himself up as an astrogator on the not-so-good ship Glamorgan under the equally drunk Captain Thistlethwaite, finds himself on the way to the mysterious planet Sord III. Thistlethwaite claims there are riches beyond compare there, which he is willing to share with Denham in return for his help.

On arriving at the planet, they meet two types of extraterrestrials. Firstly there are the rather sarcastic and oppressed pig-like aliens known as Uffts, who claim their ship on its landing, and secondly there are the humans, led by Harl, who live in Households and run the planet’s society using the Uffts as servants. Their response to Thistlethwaite’s arrival is to arrest him and agree to execute him for spreading sedition – for in offering to pay to send a message to his seller Old Man Addison he has caused great offense. Doing business, except with Uffts, is a major insult on Sord III.

Link’s attempt at rescuing Thistlethwaite – for how else is he going to escape the planet? – leads to Link also being arrested by Harl’s Household. Instead of being grateful, the non-too-stable Thistlethwaite seems annoyed, even betrayed, by Link for abandoning their spaceship.

By offering their spaceship and cargo as a guest-gift to Harl, Link manages to persuade the Householder to avoid hanging them, but the rather unpredictable Thistlethwaite, still determined to make a business deal and participate in the socially abhorrent activity of business, believes that Link has betrayed him.

To complicate things further, there’s a revolution brewing from the down-trodden Uffts. A deal is made by Thistlethwaite with the Uffts to arrange his escape and take advantage of the unrest felt by the enslaved group. Link is ‘fired’ by Thistlethwaite.

On a more positive note Link also meets Thana, Harl’s sister. She reveals the reason for Thistlethwaite’s interest in the planet, that the aliens of Sord III have the technology to duplicate objects with dupliers, something that Thistlethwaite believes would be worth a great deal. Harl disagrees, his reasoning being that such an invention would lead to the collapse of civilisation as societies become too lazy to bother working.

Thistlethwaite’s escape leads to a chase to try and recapture him before he makes a deal with Old Man Addison for dupliers. The dilemma of the novel then becomes how Link can manage to keep the dupliers a secret whilst not allowing Thistlethwaite to exploit the aliens on Sord III. It may not be a surprise that Link’s ingenuity saves the day, avoids an Ufftian Revolution, keep Thistlethwaite pleased and ends things happily ever after for Link and Thana.

The Duplicators is one of those heartily humorous tales, a story of manners and misunderstandings that is all about the behaviour of “strangers in a strange land”. It seems to be meant to be a lighter counterpoint tale to the Philip High story, a parody of politics and behaviour that is clearly meant to strike the reader as amusing but for me really wasn’t. In fact, at times there are places where it all becomes a bit silly. On the positive side, it’s well written, if predictable, but Animal Farm it isn’t.  2.5 stars.

Together these tales do what Ace Doubles tend to do – put on display deliberately different aspects of the genre. Whilst the two stories are undeniably entertaining, in the bigger scheme of things they are really minor league stuff. They are not the best Double I’ve ever read, but not the worst either and frankly neither story is the best work I’ve read from either author. File under “OK but not essential.”

Summing Up

I suppose one can't expect more from an average month than a bunch of average books. But, boy… it'd sure be nice!

We'll just have to wait for the next Galactoscope to see if our fortunes change (hopefully for the better…)

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




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[July 16, 1964] Un-Conventional (August 1964 Galaxy)

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by Gideon Marcus

All Together Now

Out in San Francisco, in the humorously named "Cow Palace", the GOP are having a convention.  Their goal is to pick the fellow they feel most adequately represents the convictions of the party of Lincoln, of Roosevelt, of Eisenhower. 

To all accounts, they have settled on Arizona Senator Barry Goldwater, a nativist, opponent of the Civil Rights Act, and advocate for expanded use of nuclear weaponry.  Despite a last-ditch attempt by Republican moderates Scranton, Rockefeller, and Romney, nothing can stop General Goldwater from tilting against LBJ in November.

Whether or not Barry wins the general election (I don't believe he can), his candidacy has reshaped the Republican Party into something regressive, "Primitive".  God help us if someone with his platform actually ascends to the Presidency…

Politics takes center stage in the latest issue of Galaxy, too, and like the Cow Palace convention, most of the names between the covers of this magazine are heavy hitters, known to all.  Let's see if we get a better result from Mr. Pohl (editor of Galaxy) than we did from Mr. Morton, Chair of the GOP convention:

The Issue at Hand


by John Pederson, Jr.

The Dead Lady of Clown Town, by Cordwainer Smith


by Gray Morrow\

Over the past decade and a half, Cordwainer Smith has woven a tapestry of tales, telling the thousands year history of The Instrumentality, technocratic oligarchy spanning much of the galaxy (except for the longevity-drug-growing Norstrilia, the wealthy and proud remnant of the British Commonwealth).  This domain is run by true humans and maintained by underpeople, animals cast in the rough images of people but with no inherent rights.  In recent tales, we learned of the revolt of the underpeople that tore down the Instrumentality.  This latest story tells of the first abortive attempt that set the seeds for the successful rebellion.

At the center of Lady is Elaine, an embryo germinated and dispatched, by accident, from Earth to Fomalhaut III to serve as a physician.  The problem is that none of the humans there needed medical attention, thus rendering Elaine's life fruitless and frustrating.  But her coming was prophesied by Lady Panc Ashash, long deceased but imprinted on a Fomalhautian computer.  The Dead Lady introduces Elaine to D'Joan, a young dog person, who is to be the martyr who gives life, love, and hope to the underpeople.  Together, Joan and Elaine lead the first movement against the Instrumentality.  The measure of its success depends entirely upon the time frame in which its effects are gauged.

Lady presents a quandary for me.  On the one hand, I adore Cordwainer Smith, and his fairytale, off-center approach to science fiction is usually far more effective than it has any right to be.  This time around, however, I felt the format had gotten stale.  The story is laden with portentous language, like a tale from a religious text, but events are presented as overdetermined, inevitable, and none of the characters makes a conscious decision.  In particular, the "love scene" between Elaine and 'The Hunter', a telepathic human with mind control powers who sides with the underpeople is not only perfunctory but disturbing (smacking of rape).

In the end, this is a redundant story, one that did not need to be told.  And Smith's poetic style is more grating than compelling this time 'round.

2.5 stars (half stars being permissible for novellas and novels).

For Your Information: A Century of Fossil Man, by Willy Ley

This month's non-fiction is about the historical and current state of physical anthropology — the study of human fossils.  Willy is back to his recent mode: informative but brief and dry.  I miss Ley of the early '50s, the one who convinced me to subscribe to Galaxy in the first place.

Still, not bad.  Three stars.

Jungle Substitute, by Brian W. Aldiss


by Jack Gaughan

Deep in the heart of a decaying city, robots and humans live a symbiotic relationship of despair.  People no longer have meaningful jobs, their lives guided by endless superstition and taboo; the machines are slowly breaking down.  One young man, Robin, discovers a government project to declare him and his family obsolete — but is the Government Investigation Bureau what it seems to be?  And what can he make of the resourceful GIB agent, Gina, who seems to know far more about the city and its condition than anyone else?

With Jungle, Aldiss paints as good a dystopian vision of the man/machine world as I've ever seen, as exciting and evocative as the first stages of his Hothouse series.  This is the kind of quality that won him the Best Promising Author Honorable Mention in 1959.

Five stars.

The Watchers in the Glade, by Richard Wilson


by Jack Gaughan

Somewhat less effective (but no less vivid) is this story by pulp-veteran Richard Wilson.  In Watchers, four journalists and two medics are banished to an uncharted world after a ship's mutiny.  To survive, they must murder and feed upon the only edible matter on the planet — sentient, telepathic beings.

All six of them go mad in their own ways, living with their daily crime while they wait on the slender hope that rescue will someday come for them. 

A solid three stars.

Neighbor, by Robert Silverberg


by Jack Gaughan

Silverberg pens another intimate piece, on the most local of politics: the rivalry between two neighbors.  On a planet of vast holdings, old McDermott builds an enormous tower in full view of the Holt estate.  For decades, Holt amasses a huge arsenal, waiting for the chance to get even.  But when the opportunity finally presents itself, can he take it?

The author described it to me as "a pretty good character study."  It's told with a certain degree of style, anyway.  Three stars.

The Delegate from Guapanga, by Wyman Guin


by Virgil Finlay

Lastly, we have Wyman Guin's first piece in eight years.  It's really been too long — this is a wonderful piece.  Guin presents us an alien culture (if not an alien race) on the eve of election time.  Only the telepathically capable, the elite and the "cupra" half-breeds, are franchised; the two dominant parties are the conservative Mentalists, favoring peace, polygamy, and interbreeding of the telepathically gifted and ungifted, and the Matterists, who value work, monogamy, moral purity, and the invasion of Earth.

It's a most appropriate story for our politically fraught year of 1964, and the storytelling and worldbuilding are quite good.

Four stars.

Summing Up

All told, even with the inferior Cordwainer (and it's not horrible), I imagine you could get a lot more pleasure out of the latest Galaxy than a trip to San Francisco's convention.  It's cheaper, too. 

Anyone want to lay odds on the next issue versus the DNC convention?

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




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[July 14, 1964] TO THE MOON, ALICE (the August 1964 Amazing)

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by John Boston

Long Hot Summer, Barely Begun

So, we have a new civil rights law, one which should transform life in the segregated South—not to mention the less overtly segregated North—if implemented.  Note the last phrase.  Meanwhile, in Mississippi, three civil rights workers involved in voter registration efforts have been missing for three weeks, after being pulled over for speeding by a local sheriff, then released.  Goodman, Chaney, and Schwerner: remember those names.  I wonder if we will hear them again. 

The Issue at Hand

This August Amazing features on its cover Robert F. Young’s The HoneyEarthers, on its face a depressing prospect.  After his tiresome rehashes of Bible stories and fairy tales, is Young now sending Ralph Kramden into space?  Fortunately, no.  This time, Young has actually tried to write a story.  It’s pretty terrible, but still, the effort is there.  Attention must be paid to this man . . . briefly.


by Richard McKenna

The HoneyEarthers, by Robert F. Young

Young essays a rather complicated plot, and if you have any interest in reading the story, you might want to do so now.  Okay, back?  It begins with an unnamed kid working as an ice miner in Saturn’s rings, and he gets into fatal-looking trouble.  Next, there’s an older man, Aaron, escorting a younger woman on the HoneyEarth Express to the Moon—his son’s wife Fleurette.  His son Ronny (Aaron Jr.) has left her and is fleeing prosecution for tax evasion.  The father is in love with his son’s wife, but this trip is to be entirely chaste, even though the voyage is typically for honeymooners, some of whose amatory antics on the flight are mentioned with disapproval. 

On the Moon, Aaron discloses that Ronny was the doomed ice miner, whom Aaron rescued in the nick of time and then adopted.  But Ronny experienced space fright and developed space fugue and can’t remember anything before the rescue.  And there’s more!  In the interim, Aaron went to the stars, spent a number of years on two different planets, and made a bunch of money.  Now, he says, Ronny (having fled to space) is about to have a second space fright episode, which will bring back his memory of the years he lost to amnesia from the first episode, while cancelling out his memory of the intervening years, including Aaron and Fleurette. 


by George Schelling

By this point it seems clear that Aaron and Ronny, decades apart in age, are the same person.  But . . . where’s the necessary time travel?  As mentioned, Aaron traveled to two extrasolar planets, then came back to Mars, and headed for Saturn to rescue Ronny.  Now I know what you’re thinking—this guy has confused time dilation from faster-than-light interstellar travel with time travel! 

But no.  Young has instead relied on that time-honored technique of the field: just making stuff up.  In this case, it’s called “circumventing the space-time equalization schedule,” a phrase that is not explained but which the author apparently thinks means he can bend time to his will and the needs of the plot.  And after Aaron’s long anguished confession of all this history to Fleurette, it looks like he’s going to get his just reward.

All this takes place in the overarching context of Young’s familiar overbearing sentimentality about beautiful young women, which reaches a crescendo, fever pitch, or something like that.  To wit:

“A girl stepped into the room.

“She had dark-brown hair. She was tall and slender. She had gray eyes and a round full face. The girlish dress she was wearing began below her shoulders, and the firelight had
already fallen in love with her smooth clear skin. Meadow flowers grew around her, and her mouth had the redness of the wild raspberries that grew in the fields of his youth. Spring resided in the dew-brightness of her eyes; her cheeks held the hue of frost-kissed leaves. Spring, summer, fall and finally winter in the snow-whiteness of her hands. . . .

“She came like a summer wind across the room and kissed him, and he knew the fields once again: the fields and the woods and the warm summer sun, and the red and succulent berries that had stained his lips and filled his mouth with sweetness.”

I believe the critics’ technical term for this is “icky.” There’s plenty of it.  There are also other comment-worthy items, such as the notion of space fright, which causes amnesia, but a second episode of space fright will bring back the errant memories, a height of contrivance equal to the “space-time equalization schedule.” But enough.  One star, with a ribbon for the labor this confection obviously required.

Selection, by Ursula K. Le Guin


by George Schelling

This jokey short story is in some ways the antithesis of The HoneyEarthers (by being jokey, for starters).  On a colony planet, marriages are arranged by computer, and there’s no appeal.  The protagonist, Miss Ekstrom-Ngungu, intensely dislikes her designated husband, Mr. Chang-Oliver, but in the absence of other options, they go through with it, and the bottom line seems to be that people get over things fairly easily in the face of a little danger and the need to get on with life.  The selection process is presided over by a Mr. Gosseyn-Ho; appropriating the name of the protagonist of van Vogt’s The World of Null-A seems to be a dig at the long history of pseudo-rationality in SF.  The story is a lightweight satire but is less cartoony than most of its type, with more density of detail than usual about the colony planet and the work of the colonists.  Le Guin is a very solid writer even in her more relaxed moments.  Three stars.

Valedictory, by Phyllis Gotlieb


by George Schelling

Phyllis Gotlieb, author of the rather overblown but underperforming serial Sunburst, is back with a miniature, Valedictory, in which a woman in training to be a time-traveling researcher thinks she needs to go back and comfort her younger self.  Like Le Guin’s (and unlike Young’s!), this is a story about getting over things, rendered with nice economy.  Three stars.

Furnace of the Blue Flame, by Robert Rohrer


by Robert Adragna

The precocious Robert Rohrer (b. 1946), who I would guess has just graduated from high school, contributes Furnace of the Blue Flame, but might as well not have bothered.  It’s a capably written but terminally cliched post-apocalyptic story—you know, the kind that refers to “the still-scorched fields south of Nuyuk . . . the rocky wastes surrounding Bigchi . . . the plains of baked clay north of Lanna,” and so forth.  Morg, a lone wanderer and apostle of knowledge, disposes of a local petty tyrant who keeps his people in ignorance. Morg uses the surviving nuclear reactor of the title to beat the bad guys.  Two stars.

Zelerinda, by Gordon Walters


by George Schelling

The last item of fiction is Zelerinda, a long and turgid novelet by Gordon Walters, said to be a pseudonym of George W. Locke, who has published a few scattered stories under the two names.  Zelerinda is a planet that is missing half the elements in the periodic table and has a temperature of 600 degrees F., so life on it is impossible—or so one would think.  There’s been a series of nuclear explosions, which aren’t exactly natural, are they?  So two guys are sent to investigate, one of whom possesses a poorly defined psi talent called delvining, or possessing a delvin, which he thinks he has to hide, though that idea is quickly forgotten.  It’s quite badly written and about three times too long, though the ultimate revelation is at least mildly clever.  Two stars.

Mort Weisinger: The Superman Behind Superman, by Sam Moskowitz

Sam Moskowitz’s SF Profile is Mort Weisinger: The Superman Behind Superman, which immediately raises two questions: who cares, and why bother?  Meaning no disrespect to that shallow debasement of the conceptual armory of science fiction—er, let me try that again.  While Superman in all his incarnations is no doubt of interest to students of popular culture, broadly speaking, one would think that Moskowitz would find higher priorities in this series on prominent SF writers.  That said, it’s a perfectly adequate summary of a low-profile brief career in SF leading to a more substantial one in comics.  Most interestingly, during World War II, the government found it necessary to suppress two Superman strips concerning atomic energy.  Two stars.

Summing Up

So Amazing continues to idle, with the occasional loud backfire from the likes of Robert F. Young, and intervals of smooth humming from, this time, the very competent Ursula K. Le Guin and the getting-the-hang Phyllis Gotlieb.  Next month, Edmond Hamilton and James H. Schmitz are promised.  Expect no sudden shifting of gears.

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



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55 years ago: Science Fact and Fiction