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Magazine, Science Fiction/Fantasy, Serial

[February 22, 1966] A New Age? Impulse and New Worlds, March 1966

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by Mark Yon

Scenes from England

Hello again!

This is a particularly exciting time with the British magazines this month. After the announcement of the end of Science Fantasy in the February issue, we now have Impulse, “The NEW Science Fantasy”, as it says on the cover, and a bigger, bolder, thicker New Worlds – albeit with a shilling rise in the price of each.

Do I get extra value for my extra two shillings a month? I’m looking forward to finding out.

Well, the cover of the new Impulse is interesting. There’s nothing like selling yourself with a roster of names on the cover – and the list is impressive, admittedly. The cover artwork is reasonable too. Gone are the Keith Roberts covers (more about him in a moment) to be replaced with a rather unusual cover by “Judith Ann Lawrence”, though we may also know her as Mrs. James Blish.

As Kyril points out in his as entertaining as ever Editorial, there is even a theme to the issue, that of “Sacrifice”. Sounds intriguing.

To this month’s actual stories.

The Circulation of the Blood, by Brian W. Aldiss

We start this issue with the return of one of the current and most vocal exponents of the New Wave, Brian Aldiss.  Clem Burke is an oceanologist who has returned to his tropical idyll to meet his wife and son after spending six months investigating ocean currents. We discover over the course of the story that he and his team have discovered a new virus carried by microscopic copepod that seems to imbue immortality upon the creatures who ingest it.

This is typical Aldiss, in that the story that at first reads as if it is a travelogue of tropical islands. It could almost be published in any magazine. However this is Aldiss, and what the author then does is reveal a science-fictional element gradually, by which time of course the reader is hooked. What we end up with is a world on the edge of major irretrievable evolutionary change from which there is no going back.

Brian would hate me for saying this, as he’s not a fan of the author’s writing, but to me this one felt like it had a touch of the John Wyndham “global catastrophes" about it, although it leaves the reader wondering “What happens next?” at the end. It is about what would be the consequences of what will happen when this secret discovery is revealed to the world, and the effects afterwards, on society, on relationships and on the world’s ecology. A good start. 4 out of 5.

High Treason, by Poul Anderson

From a story that’s rather British in tone to a stridently American tale. Edward Breckenridge is a space pilot currently imprisoned and on trial for treason. The reason is that he was the commander of an attack force given the job in a last ditch effort of wiping out the enemy’s home planet, but who took an alternative decision, sacrificing his own family and career to do so.

I have always thought of Poul as a right-wing writer, and consequently this story is something I didn’t expect. To begin with it reads like a typical sf Space Opera tale from the States, with its roots in Doc Smith’s Lensmen, all about honour and loyalty, but then takes a left turn into the unexpected.

It shows us that when difficult choices have to be made, the answer is far from simple and leaves us with the moral dilemma – would you, faced with a relatively benign enemy, make the same decision?

Whilst the tone of the story is what I would expect in the American magazines, this one is a tale that I don’t think you’d find in Analog. Surprising. 4 out of 5.

You and Me and the Continuum, by J.G. Ballard

And then from a story that appears at first to be traditional to one that is most definitely not. If Aldiss is often seen as “the voice” of New Wave, then here is perhaps the group’s leading exponent, making a welcome return to the British mags.

Ballard has set himself quite a challenge here, as the banner suggests: “The theme of sacrifice led me to think of the Messiah, or more exactly, the second coming and how this might happen in the twentieth century.”

Written in that typically fractured, disjointed manner, the disparate pieces together make up a story which doesn’t quite reach its lofty ideals yet must be admired for its ambition. Deliberately provocative, ambitiously subversive, the story is filled with phrases that remain in the memory after the story has been read. One where the parts may be greater than the sum of the whole. 4 out of 5.

A Hero’s Life, by James Blish

The banner on this one tells me that for the first time this is the first original piece published in Britain from this American author (admittedly living in Britain). I’m sure that you will know him for his Cities in Flight series of stories if nothing else,  although I know him more for his literary criticism as much as his fiction writing.

It is a strange story about a poisoner on a Romanesque planet where being a traitor is a valuable trade. As a traitor Simon de Kuyl is given untouchable status, but he is about to have his twelve days of grace expire. The story is about how he manages to use his wits to survive, finding himself playing a complex game with the planet’s leaders. Lyrical, a bit grim, one that seems to combine Samuel Delany’s style of grimy underworld writing and when de Kuyl is tortured produces stream of consciousness gibberish with more than a touch of the lyrical Jack Vance. It’s ambitious, but feels a little like it’s trying too hard. 3 out of 5.

The Gods Themselves Throw Incense, by Harry Harrison

Friend and colleague of Mr. Aldiss, here’s another name that seems to be forever in the British magazines at the moment. This time Harry is into Space Opera mode, but not the farce of Bill, the Galactic Hero (thank goodness!), but instead a darker, more visceral story.

The explosion of the spaceship Yuri Gagarin leads to a motley trio of survivors in an emergency capsule. With oxygen running out and rescue unlikely for at least a few weeks, the story is how they survive – which means that one of them needs to make the ultimate sacrifice in order for the others to live. A story which examines what could really happen when people are put under significant life-changing stress. Like Poul Anderson's story this month, this is not a story of honour or glory, nor is it particularly pleasant, but it is memorable. 3 out of 5.

Deserter, by Richard Wilson

Continuing the theme of sacrifice, Richard’s story tells of William Leslie, a soldier who with an impending war coming, marries Betty. The couple are immediately separated, because – wait for it! – it’s a war of the sexes! Bill deserts to meet Betty, and does so, but is then arrested and sent for a court-marshal. It all seems a little silly. Not the best story in the issue. 2 out of 5.

The Secret, by Jack Vance

Having mentioned the lyrical American Hugo-winning author already, here he is, with a coming-of-age story. Rona ta Inga lives in idyllic tropical paradise with food, shelter and all the company he could want. However, one day as the oldest of the group, he, like many of his friends and predecessors before him, feels the urge to sail away to the West, where he discovers "the secret" and his innocent child-like life is changed. It’s a one-trick tale, but well done. Precise wordage mingles with metaphor. 3 out of 5.

Pavane, by Keith Roberts

This is the first of what I believe will be many stories spread over the next few months, and something a little different from Mr. Roberts, who in this same issue we are told has taken on the responsibility of assistant editor.

Pavane is an alternate history where Elizabeth I was assassinated in 1588. As a result, Protestantism has not taken hold in England and Roman Catholicism still dominates the world. With the Roman Catholic view of science being one of suspicion, and innovation supressed, inventions have not as developed as they have been here today. Although it is still the 1960’s, here we have Keith’s descriptions of this strange new-yet-old world which runs a feudal system and where communication is not through telegraph or radio (electricity not invented) but by flags.

The story is focussed upon the duties of Rafe Bigland, a signaller whose job is to pass semaphore flag messages down the line to the next semaphore station in a distinctly more rural England. It shows us Rafe’s job at a semaphore station and through a bit of history how he got to this prestigious position. Think of it like a particularly British Lord Darcy story.

I’m not sure where it is going – presumably we will discover more in later stories set in the same world – but I enjoyed the worldbuilding and the sense of timelessness that pervades this slower pace of life. There is a deliberately shocking ending, which I guess does fit with the overall theme of the issue. 4 out of 5.

Summing up Impulse

Well, this one hits the ground running. What a superior issue! Impulse covers an impressive range of story. From Space Opera to alternative history to New Wave, each story this month combines this impressive variety of styles from a host of well-known authors to create an all-star issue. There’s little I didn’t like about this one. I particularly enjoyed the Aldiss, the Poul Anderson and the Keith Roberts, though if I had to pick a weak story it would probably be Richard Wilson’s Deserter, which was a little overwrought.

We seem to have started well. Can this month’s New Worlds compete?

Onto this month’s New Worlds

The Second Issue At Hand

After last month’s rally against the old guard, this month Mike Moorcock is attempting that perennial theme of trying to summarise what Science Fiction means to him and how fans can make it matter. It’s a nice summary for all those jumping on board at this point, but I’ve read similar before.

To the stories!


Illustration by James Cawthorn

The Evil That Men Do (Part 1), by John Brunner

I think we’ve had a bit of resurgence with John Brunner in the magazines of late. I was under the impression that even with the use of various pseudonyms, the magazines had lost him to the US magazines and writing novels, but in the last few months we’ve had stories (The Warp and the Woof Woof, last month) and non-fiction articles (Them As Can, Does in the January 1966 issue) in these pages, and now a novel split into two parts. This is different though in that it is less science fiction and more of a horror novel.

Godfrey Rayner’s party-piece is that he is a hypnotist, although he really uses the skill as a psychological tool. When persuaded to perform at a party, he does so reluctantly, to find the quiet young girl Fey Cantrip is upset by the process. Whilst not Rayner’s intended participant, Fey goes into a trance and talks of a nightmare involving a white dragon. When Rayner discusses what has happened with his psychiatrist friend Dr. Laszlo, they are surprised to find that Laszlo has a patient in Wickingham Prison who has recounted what sounds like the same dream (and the reason for one of the silliest covers I've seen on New Worlds lately.)

Lots of setting up here, which reads well but then just as the story gets going, it stops. What is the connection between the two dreamers and why are they having identical dreams? We’ll find out next month. This is OK, and reads easily, but as this is something with more of a Fritz Leiber / Weird Tales vibe about it, it’s not typical Brunner, and I would argue not his best. Kudos for trying something different, though. 3 out of 5.


Illustration by Douthwaite

The Great Clock, by Langdon Jones

One of the points that’s surprised me lately in New Worlds is that Langdon Jones manages to pull a double shift. Not only is he the Assistant Editor, but he’s managing to create a line of intriguing fiction as well. They haven’t always worked for me, but I can’t deny that they are usually quite ambitious both in style and content. This one’s another allegorical one, about a naked man who finds himself giving his life’s service to the working of a giant clock. I get the idea that it is probably about the passage of time and the uselessness of spending an entire life giving service to a machine. Some nice descriptions of the workings of this enormous edifice, but in the end it seems rather pointless. It wouldn’t happen inside Big Ben, now, would it? Weirdly, it rather made me think of the film Metropolis. 3 out of 5.

From ONE, by Bill Butler

A poem, from a new name to the magazines. It’s about burning animals and dinosaurs. Marks for effort, but it doesn’t stir me to any kind of emotion. 3 out of 5.


Illustration by James Cawthorn

Psychosmosis, by David I. Masson

And another story from who is probably my favourite ‘new’ author of the moment – this is his third story in three successive months. Again, this story is quite different, this time set in some kind of primitive cultured society.

To begin with, it is about a death in a tribal village, which leads to a naming-feast and much partying. However, in the aftermath Nant, one of the husbands is missing, followed by his newly-renamed wife Mara (once named Nira) in something referred to as a “double-vanishing.” We discover that they have passed over into The Inside, a realm where the village cannot see or hear them.

We then have two worlds – the first, the Faded lands of The Hard of Hearing, which is a harsh and difficult life with a language to match, whilst those who have passed over to The Inside, the Invokers, have a life of relative pleasure and luxury, which is again reflected in the language.

Returning to the land of the Hard of Hearing there is a boar hunt. Tan is regarded as a hero for surviving and killing many animals. However, like Nant and Mara before, when he goes to find his girlfriend Danna it seems that she has gone missing. He searches for her, eventually dies and passes over to the Inside where he meets all of his friends again, including Danna.

As is often the case on a first read of Masson's stories, I’m not quite sure what it all means. All the story really does is depict two opposing societies – is it an allegory for Heaven and Hell, for example? – but it is entertaining enough. as Masson manages to indulge in his love of language to depict the differences in society and lifestyle. The second tribe are, according to the author, ‘saved’, whilst the others are doomed, as shown by the last sentence.

Not sure that this one entirely works for me, but it is still impressive. 3 out of 5.


Illustration by Douthwaite

The Post-Mortem People, by Peter Tate

Another new name to the magazines, or at least me. A strange tale of men and women who go around literally rubber-stamping dying people with their time of death in order to allow organ harvesting. The latest in another depressing dystopian setting, this one is typically sombre and actually rather unsettling. 3 out of 5.

The Disaster Story, by Charles Platt

Charles’s presence in the magazine in recent months has been a constant, with often well-received stories and entertainingly grumpy reviews in New Worlds. The Disaster Story is an attempt by the author to become deliberately more Ballardian, beginning with the statement “This is an attempt to isolate and express the ingredients which endow a distinct type of science fiction with unusual appeal.”

Well, they do say that imitation is the best form of flattery and if so then Ballard should be pleased. There’s nothing like ambition, but whilst The Disaster Story echoes Ballard in its visually dramatic and lyrical imagery and like some of Ballard’s tales is made up of short, discordant paragraphs, it is not as good as Ballard. Compare with Ballard’s story in this month’s Impulse and this is weaker, though a brave attempt. 3 out of 5.


Illustration by James Cawthorn

For A Breath I Tarry, by Roger Zelazny

I mentioned how much I enjoyed Roger’s writing when I reviewed Love is an Imaginary Number in the January 1966 issue of New Worlds. It seems that Mike Moorcock is similarly impressed, as here’s another story. I think that this one is just as good, if not better. It is a post-apocalyptic tale about Frost, who is a sentient computer created by Solcom, with dominion over half of the Earth. Over ten thousand years, Frost has taken on a hobby – that of studying Man, even though Man has long gone. At the South Pole there is the Beta-Machine, created by Solcom to work in a similar way over the Southern Hemisphere. Solcom now watches over both of them from space.

Opposing Solcom is Divcom and The Alternate, a computer system originally meant as a back-up to Frost and The Beta that through a chance accident to Solcom has also been activated. The two systems have spent the last few thousand years trying to remove the other – Frost claiming that the Alternative should not have been made operative in the first place, Divcom claiming that Solcom has been damaged and needs replacing. Over time this has created a somewhat uneasy but stable peace.

When Mordel, a robot created neither by Solcom or Divcom, strikes up a conversation with Frost, they find that they have a common interest – to study humans. This leads to Frost and Mordel examining a human relic – a book on Human Physiology – and then sharing of ideas on what is the nature of Man. This leads to Frost becoming determined to attain Manhood, and much of the rest of the story is about how far it goes towards that.

This story of god-like machines wanting to comprehend and even become like Man is thoughtful and well written and shows that Roger is writing material that is setting the standard across the Atlantic. I wouldn’t be surprised to see this one nominated for Awards in the next few months. Robots with personalities and a conscience – I wonder what Asimov would make of it? 4 out of 5.


Illustration by Douthwaite

Phase Three, by Michael Moorcock

Nice to see the editor as author again. This is the third Jerry Cornelius story (having first been seen in issues 153 and 157). Moorcock mixes cultural references with pagan mythology and strange happenings in time through the actions of his action-hero and his side-kick, Miss Brunner. (Where has Cornelius's wife gone to, I wonder?) This time Jerry goes to Scandinavia to try and find his brother Frank who appears to be “in a bad way” following the events of the previous story.  Frank leaves a strange map:

which Jerry and Miss Brunner use to track Frank down, to a place with secret Nazi constructions in some variant of the Hollow Earth theory. In terms of the bigger picture, it all seems to be connected to the super-computer mentioned in the last story.

Wildly imaginative, if supremely improbable, the rattling pace almost covers up the fact that this is an extract of a novel soon-to-be-published. As an extract, it doesn’t make much sense. But then that may be the point. 3 out of 5.

Book Reviews

We start with a big-hit reviewer this month. J.G. Ballard takes up the mantle and reviews The Childermass, Monstre Gai and Malign Fiesta by Wyndham Lewis. Must admit, I always confuse Wyndham Lewis with the already-mentioned-this-month John Wyndham, he of The Day of the Triffids fame, but Ballard makes a good case for reading Wyndham Lewis.

James Colvin, the Editor-by-Another-Name, tackles the paperbacks. He reviews J G Ballard’s story collection The Fourth Dimensional Nightmare in some detail before going onto a very brief mention of Isaac Asimov’s latest British releases.

Keeping that literary viewpoint he then reviews Steppenwolf by Herman Hesse and Jorge Luis Borge’s Fictions which, as expected, is regarded as “sublime”, and then Ray Cummings’s Tama of the Light Country for a bit of contrast. (As an old pulp story it does not fare well.)

Lastly Colvin mentions, but actually does little more than list, a number of Philip K Dick recent publications, stating at the end that they are “much, much better than most sf published recently.”

Like Moorcock, not content with just having a story in this issue, Assistant Editor Langdon Jones, under the heading Rose Among Weeds reviews The Rose by Charles L. Harness. It sells the book well, although as it is published by the same publisher as this magazine, I did cynically wonder whether it masquerades as subtle promotion. Given the reviewer’s usual sense of scorn (so-British!) I hope not.

There are no Letters pages this month.

Summing up New Worlds

In an appropriate moment of serendipity, the back cover subtly points out that this is the 160th issue and the first to have 160 pages. I have been quite positive about the changes in New Worlds in recent months, but the extra space seems to have reenergised the magazine even further. The weaker spots for me are the Brunner and the Platt, but even they are not bad, just eclipsed by the Zelazny and the Masson, both of which are excellent. The range is broad, and perhaps not for everyone, but if I was to point out an issue that epitomises the changes that sf has experienced in the last couple of years this would probably be it. From intangible horror to post-apocalyptic dystopia and decay, from culture bending satire and even a search for meaning, from Ballard-esque imagery to poetry, it is, dare I say it, a diversely classic issue. Moorcock’s editorial summing this up forms the impressive structure upon which current sf can be exhibited.

Summing up overall

Difficult choice this month. Both magazines seem to have benefitted from the extra space more page-age provides. I think that both editors have pulled out all the stops and produced better than average issues – I hope that it lasts. Impulse has hit the ground running, and I liked the the fact that both issues have managed to combine quality writing from both British and American writers to create a varied issue. Overall, I liked more of Impulse than I did New Worlds, but the Zelazny story in New Worlds is perhaps the best I’ve read this month.

So: Impulse has the edge, although – and I say this very rarely – in my opinion both issues are worth reading this month – despite me being two extra shillings down on the deal.

This is a wonderful sign for the future of sf here in Britain. What is also great is that comparing what we get here with what you get in the USA, the difference to me is quite apparent. Absolutely nothing wrong with that – in my mind, a broad genre is a sign of strength, not weakness. We really do seem to be entering some sort of new Golden Age.

To reflect this – next month, more Ballard in New Worlds!

Until the next…



 

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Book, Magazine, Science Fiction/Fantasy

[February 20, 1966] An Embarrassment of Riches (February Galactoscope #2)

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by Mx. Kris Vyas-Myall

On Saturday 29th January, Science Fiction and Fantasy fans in England were spoiled for choice in their viewing options.

Doctor Who: Destruction of Time
Doctor Who: Destruction of Time

On the BBC you could see the final part of Doctor Who's recent epic Dalek story. Later in the evening you could see the latest episode of US magical sitcom Bewitched.

Thunderbirds: Cry Wolf
Thunderbirds: Cry Wolf

Over on ATV London the evening stated with Gerry Anderson’s Thunderbirds, then there was aired the film version of Quatermass II and the evening ended with new horror anthology series Mystery and Imagination, adapting a J. Meade Falkner’s story The Lost Stradavarius.

Mystery and Imagination: The Lost Stradavarius
Mystery and Imagination: The Lost Stradavarius

When ABC Midlands also aired Mystery and Imagination, you could also see a golf themed adventure of The Avengers, along with a new episode of Voyage to the Bottom of the Sea.

Lost in Space: The Oasis
Lost in Space: The Oasis

Due to the weird TV areas, I can also get a weak Anglia signal. In addition to the above, they started the evening with episodes of The Flintstones and Lost in Space.

Dracula Prince of Darkness - Plague of the Zombies
Poster for Hammer’s latest horror double bill

Whilst, on the radio, The Home Programme was continuing their serialisation of Neil M. Gunn’s novel Green Isle of the Great Deep and in the cinema, you could still see Hammer’s most recent double bill, Dracula: Prince of Darkness and Plague of the Zombies.

When at the end of the last decade we would be waiting months for a single science fiction episode of ITV playhouse, this is a big change for the SF fan.

What also came through to me on that weekend is John Carnell’s latest New Writings:

New Writings in SF 7

New Writings In SF7

Invader by James White

James White should need no introduction to most SF fans, but, though he was a regular contributor to New Worlds up to Carnell’s final issue, he has not had anything published in the new British magazine landscape.

Here he returns with the first Sector General tale since Star Surgeon came out in ’63. This one deals with an interesting problem, where one of their senior physicians, Mannen, may have killed a patient through careless action. Conway, however, is determined to investigate and prove his innocence.

Although there are almost a dozen other Sector General tales printed you can easily pick this one up straight away without foreknowledge and the medical mystery aspect of this story is handled well and kept me engaged for the whole length.

Four Stars

This is not his only return to the SF scene, he also has a new novel out (see below for my review of that).

The Man Who Missed the Ferry by Douglas R. Mason

Usually Mason publishes as John Rankine, but with another story under that name in this issue (see below), we are getting his first non-pseudonymously published story. Given that he has his first novel coming soon under the Mason name, it will be interesting to see which he becomes better known for.

On to the actual piece in this issue: it is a bit of a puzzling one. Arthur Sinclair is a shipping clerk who loses his memory and decides to take a walk across the river Mersey, literally walking across the water without a second thought. More details and powers of his emerge as the story goes on but things do not end up going entirely well.

The whole thing reads more like a description of someone’s dream than a science fiction tale. Too much that is unexplained and seems to happen for reasons that make neither narrative nor thematic sense.

Two Stars

The Night of the Seventh Finger by Robert Presslie

Returning after his confounding piece in the last anthology he does something a little more traditional here.

Sue Bradley travels from the boring Eastwood New Town to the city for an evening of entertainment. There she meets a mysterious man, who may be mad or from the future.

The topic is a bit of a cliched one but what I did appreciate is the focus on the boredom of teenagers in the new planned towns, an area that is very contemporary and unmined by SFF writers in Britain, who tend to either prefer city centres or isolated villages.

Three Stars

Six Cubed Plus One by John Rankine

At Goresville Comprehensive school they have setup a cube shaped annex to house an “automated section” for study groups to use. However, it is actually an experiment in creating a new form of life. As you would expect, things go wrong,

This feels more like a pitch document for an ATV children’s television serial than a modern piece of science fiction. Overall, I didn’t feel there was much to it and I had real trouble maintaining my interest to keep reading. Clearly Carnell likes Rankine\Mason, but I am yet to be convinced by his writings.

Two Stars

Coco-Talk by William F. Temple

Temple has been largely absent from the British magazines for a while, publishing pieces in America which often have a quite old-fashioned sensibility. This, on the other hand, feels like a bit more of a step forward.

It concerns the Minister of Cultural Exchange going to Venus as a spy on the Venusians. The problem is their tendency to speak in Coco-Talk, a form of shocking double-speak. The whole thing then goes into a form of interplanetary espionage which is, in itself, a quite interesting little escapade.

I do have questions about whether the choice of name is meant to evoke non-European cultures, and, if so, if we are meant to read the text as colonialist or an anticolonial satire. It seems to go so close to the line on this point that I struggle to determine intent.

Three stars

A Touch of Immortality by R. W. Mackelworth

In the future there has been developed a means to send bullets into the far future. This is to be used to grant immortality to President Strom. However, there is a method of physical immortality available, but who would want that?

A middling piece on the nature of immortality and largely forgettable.

Two stars

Manscarer by Keith Roberts

Did you really think we would get away from Mr. Roberts? No chance of that!

In this final novelette, a colony of artists have been building a series of giant sculptures, but when a death occurs the colonists begin to question their purpose.

I found this a real struggle to get through, the message had been done many times before and the treatment of women here was terrible.

If you want better treatment of the nature of art and artist I would instead recommend Leaf by Niggle by J. R. R. Tolkien in Tree and Leaf.

Two stars

So this was not an exceptional example of the series, with only one real standout and the rest merely being adequate to average. Carnell also continues to fail to branch out in his author selection. The results tend to be variable, but maybe it is worth taking the lead from If and reserving a few pages for newer writers. Carnell may be a steady hand at the helm but it would be great to see him venture out of his lagoon.

The Watch Below by James White
Cover by George Zeil

The Watch Below

Whilst next month the British hardback is coming out, Ballantine’s edition is already available in the US and I managed to acquire one early.

A few years ago James White was one of the most celebrated British SF authors and seemed to be going from strength to strength. With his Sector General tales being published in the US and Second Ending becoming a Hugo Finalist. But he had nothing new released last year and only Open Prison the year before.

Thankfully Carnell seems to have dragged him back to the SF field once again (White describes Carnell in the dedication as “Friend, Agent, Slave-driver”) with a most unusual take on familiar concepts.

In 1942 the tanker ship The Gulf Trader, sinks in a convoy after a torpedo attack, miraculously those on board find themselves in an air bubble on the ship and begin to work out how to survive down there in their new isolated home. Something they have to do for generations.

Meanwhile, the Uthans, an aquatic species, have left their now uninhabitable planet on giant starships, heading towards a distant world whose surface is mostly water, using freezing technology to keep their crew and passengers alive for the whole journey. However, it turns out multiple freezings and unfreezings causes brain damage. So the only solution is for a selection of the crew to stay unfrozen and have their descendants continue leading the voyage for them.

As you can tell, this is a tale of two accidental generation ships, one of air breathers trapped underwater, one of water breathers travelling through space. The stories, in fact, do not connect until the penultimate chapter so what we are left with is an interesting case of having the themes parallel each other without directly interacting for the most part. This is a trick I am familiar with from literary fiction, but not one I recall seeing in science fiction before.

In fact, I wonder if this is an attempt to keep up with the changing nature of science fiction. I would say I have seen three camps of SF fans: Pulp readers (who want adventure and splashy concepts), Hard SF fans (who want real science and problem stories) and New Wavers (who want experimentation and literary flourishes). This book seems to strive to have something for everyone. It has the bold ideas of an underwater home and an aquatic spaceship. White then also goes to pains to try to explain the science of these ridiculous concepts, having pages of the different crews explain how they will eat, breathe, reproduce, etc. But then adds a lot of literary techniques whilst also touching on areas often considered taboo by some SF writers, such as menstruation, death in childbirth, and orgies.

As you can probably tell this is an ambitious novel trying to do a lot of different things and please a wide audience. The big question is, of course, does White manage to pull it all off? Unfortunately, not entirely. His usual easy readability is lost as he attempts to establish his worlds and I found myself wanting to put down the book as he spends paragraphs discussing the necessary quantities of plant growth.

Even worse, although the decision to make the two crews not meet until the end of the novel is an interesting idea, it results in the ending seeming incredibly rushed, with White moving from a slow paced discussion to a frantic attempt to wrap up the story before he runs out of words.

I can’t help but feel this book too ambitious and in search of a larger page count. In the end I found myself admiring The Watch Below more than enjoying it.

Three Stars

The Lost Perception by Daniel F. Galouye

The Lost Perception

From a Northern Irish writer first published in the US, to an American writer being first published in the UK. However, as far as I know, there is no release date from The Lost Perception yet from Bantam. I am not sure why this is, but I am still glad to be able to get another book from one of the most interesting North American writers.

After his detour into the Philip K. Dick-esque Simulacron-3, he returns to another Post-Disaster tale, reminiscent in many ways of The Lords of Psychon.

As usual Galouye throws a lot at us. In 1983 those known as screamers begin to emerge, people have violent seizures they are not able to escape from. By the mid-90s it is an epidemic causing an almost societal collapse. Gregson, an agent for the Security Bureau (what remains of the former United Nations) is sent to look into the situation with the screamie epidemic.

This is only the start of what is happening. There has also been the appearance of an alien race known as The Valorian, who appear to be trying to infiltrate society. Further, the title of book itself refers to zylphing, a form of ESP that begins to become unlocked for humans.

The whole thing is a very fast paced thriller that throws around concepts and ideas as if they were rice at a wedding. I have read through it a few times now and I am still not sure I fully understand everything that was going on. There are layers of double crosses and conspiracies that made my head spin trying to keep up with all of them.

As such I feel explaining more of the plot is a fool’s errand. Also, with so much going on the characters felt very flat to me, merely serving to be moved around like pieces on a chess board. Helen in particular feels less like a person as a plot device to keep the story going. The attempts to make it feel more global also fall flat, with them talking about “a turbaned Oriental” and a “robed African”.

Two areas where it does shine are in the concepts and the pacing. The story does not let up for one page before you are moving on to the next bizarre occurrence or new piece of information. At the same time this post-disaster world felt very lived-in and believable that this kind of organisation would spring up in the face of such a threat.

So, whilst I was able to read it fast and feel it was an experience, I was often lost. It may be perceptive, but of what I remain unsure.

Three Stars

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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Magazine

[February 18, 1966] Fixing up the old place (March 1966 Fantasy & Science Fiction)

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by Gideon Marcus

Inside the Modern Home

Interior decorating has always been a passion of mine, and few times have been as exciting to be a fan of home interiors than today.  Gone are the pastels and pillows of the 1950s; the mid 1960s are a time of bold colors, Space Age shapes, and stark contrasts. 

Dig this brightly hued dining and living space, vivid in primary colors but also subdued with its Japanese influence and pink walls.  This is a pad screaming for a party.

If you want something more intimate, how about this shaggy, flame-themed family room?


(just don't tell these happy folks that their Albers painting is hung sideways…)

Of course, not all innovation is beautiful.  Concrete has foundationed the New Brutalism, and I hate it.  I understand the new La Jolla campus of the University of San Diego is going to be done up in this shelter chic, which is a pity.  It's a good thing I'll never have to attend classes there (Lorelei, on the other hand, might well).



Inside the Modern Magazine

The changing vista of science fiction offers its beauties and eyesores, as well.  Thankfully, the latest issue of The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction offers a suite of worlds that, though I may not want to live in all of them, most of them were worth a visit.


by Gray Morrow

Angels Unawares, by Zenna Henderson

Is there anything more eagerly awaited than a new story of The People?  In this case, as always, Henderson delivers.  I believe this is the earliest story in the series, chronologically, taking place as it does some time in the 19th Century.  A young woman and her mining engineer husband are heading West to the bustling copper town of Margin when they come across the burned remains of a home in the wilderness.  Four charred bodies are inside, incinerated by zealots as witches.  But a child survives, shocked into muteness but possessed of extraordinary powers.  The settlers adopt her, and thus ensues a tale of pain, maturity, and rebirth like only this author can tell.

Stories of The People feature a set group of ingredients, and yet somehow Henderson manages to make a delicious new recipe every time.  Five stars.  Bon appetit.

I Remember Oblivion, by Henry Slesar

In an effort to replace brutality with mercy in our penal system, a young murderer is taken off Death Row and given new memories.  Harsh, abuse-filled past is swapped for bright sunny days and love in the hopes of creating a well-adjusted psyche.

But the widower of the killer's last victim has other plans…

There's a kernel of a good idea here: are we the sum of our memories, or is there more to the human soul?  Unfortunately, Slesar, a screenwriter who has yet to really impress me, goes for the cheap gimmick.  The result is the least satisfying piece of the issue.

Two stars.


by Gahan Wilson

Tomlinson, by Rudyard Kipling

The author of The Jungle Book has been dead for thirty years, long enough (Editor Ed Ferman suggests) for a poem of his to be uncontroversially reprinted.  A story of life after death, it's Tomlinson this and Tomlinson that, and Tomlinson go away, as he is rejected by both Heaven and Hell for being a fellow who neither sinned nor achieved good deeds.

Pleasant enough.  Three stars.

Lil, Rorrity, and A Foamin' Sea of Steam Beer, by Richard Olin
"Daniel Rorrity was a short, stubby…fisherman," begins the tale, and so it ends as well.  In between, from his well-worn stool 'Roarey' regales Lil, the B-girl, of the adventures he'd had and the places he'd visited before his back was lamed.  And one day, he swore (when the beers were many and the mood was high), he'd buy his own boat and sail the world with his lady love.  Karl, the disdainful barkeep, inadvertently provides the impetus to transform a boastful sot into a captain of fantastic seas.

It's a lot more style than substance, but the style is lovely.  Four stars.

White Night, by John Tomerlin

In the South of France, a lost hiker takes refuge in a battered auberge.  The serving girl takes a shine to him, and they spend the night together.  But the morning reveals a hideous transformation.

A reasonable piece of trivial horror, though if the protagonist doesn't get eaten, I'm honestly not sure what the fuss is.  It's not as if he didn't have fun, regardless of what she looks like now…

Three stars.

Grow Old Along with Me, by Julius Fast

In a twist on the Deal with the Devil cliché, Fast's tale is of a young man who declines the offered gifts of Old Nick, and in turn gains something better — a friend.

Lucifer ain't such a bad guy after all!

Three stars.

The Rocks of Damocles, by Isaac Asimov

If Mariner 4 taught us anything, it's that sizable planets are just as prone to being blasted by asteroids and meteorites as moons.  In his latest article, the Good Doctor explains why it's only a matter of time before humanity gets walloped by an extraterrestrial bullet.

Sleep well!  Four stars.

The Blind God's Eye by Kathleen James

It's our world, but in a bleaker, poorer future, and Alice, living a bleak, poor life, is just trying to muddle through widow-hood as a bar dishwasher.  Then she meets Red, a burly young man with an iron liver…and a curious resonance of fate with Hugh Veron, an up-and-coming dictator who will be making a speech right in front of the bar in a few days.

A tale of love and tragedy, it's told in a sort of breathless, diary-like fashion that could have been grating, but for me was riveting.

Four stars.

Mickey Finn, by Doris Pitkin Buck

Lastly, another poem about the afterlife.  A man goes to Heaven when he's ready for it, and not before, and when he gets there, it's as dingy as he expects.

Oddly placed and somehow trivial, it is not helped by the typo in the last line.

Three stars.

Digging the Decor

It's not often that a magazine manages to crack the 3.5 star barrier, but F&SF has done it twice in four months.  Plus, Zenna Henderson makes any issue worthwhile (though I can't say I'm a fan of the lurid cover — I believe it's Gray Morrow's first for the mag).  In any event, if you're looking for a clutch of science fiction to go with your mod decor, the March 1966 F&SF is a safe bet.

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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Movies

[February 16, 1966] An import-ant next step in my Sci-fi journey (Them!)

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by Dana Pellebon

A Fortuitous Meeting

Hello travelers! I’m very excited to begin my journey with you. I had the pleasure of recently meeting Gideon Marcus at a fundraiser for Heifer Inc. While raising money for this important organization, I had the opportunity to talk with him about some of our shared interests. We found out that we were both born in California, enjoyed quite a bit of the same music, and have a shared love of sci-fi.

My love of sci-fi began with the release of the Godzilla movies from Japan. The fantastical storylines and the varied monster villains captures my imagination. The excitement of it all culminates with the King of the Monsters, Godzilla, taking over the screen, creating havoc, and establishing dominance. So when Gideon talked about writing something for Galactic Journey, it was an easy choice for me to say yes and then to cast about for an example of my favorite genre of sci-fi movies, giant monsters.


Gojira, 1954

It's Movie Time!

I was lucky to find a fine example of the genre from the last decade on television. Them! was released in 1954, the same year Godzilla first made landfall. Written by Ted Sherdeman and directed by Gordon Douglas, Them! is one of the pioneers of the nuclear monster movies and is one of the first overgrown bug features. At least, so it said in the newspaper. Thus intrigued, last weekend I settled into my couch with my Jiffy Pop popcorn to spend the next hour and a half transfixed.


Them!, 1954

The story opens with some fantastic mood music and sweeps over the desert with a bird’s eye view from a plane. That alone is already exciting. Soundtracks are so important to the feel of the movie and the soundscape immediately inspires dread and suspense. You see a figure walking alone, which is an unusual way out in the middle of nowhere, and it turns out to be a mute little girl. As soon as I see a kid wandering alone obviously traumatized, it immediately puts me on edge which heightens the already suspenseful moments. When the officers start to transport the young girl to the hospital, there’s a high pitched sound and you see her respond briefly unbeknownst to the officers next to her. But, it’s a disconcerting moment. Further investigation finds she is the sole survivor of an attack on her family. At this point, the movie sets the stage for a mystery and the suspense is already killing me to find out what’s next.

More Than Just A Pretty Face

Another killing and disappearance later, the police and FBI agents on the case are perplexed to learn two scientists from the Department of Agriculture are joining the investigation. Meeting them at the airport, the first exit from the plane shows the legs of a man, Dr. Harold Medford. On the second exit, you could see the shapely legs of a woman in heels. I am pleasantly surprised that the second scientist is a woman named Dr. Patricia Medford, the daughter of Dr. Harold Medford. The focus, however, is not on her as an attractive woman but as a researcher. She isn’t there as decoration but is an active, equal part of the investigative team. Having a female lead character where the central theme is her brains and not her beauty is a refreshing departure from how women are commonly depicted in film.


Drs. Patricia and Harold Medford deep in discussion while Agent Graham and Sgt. Peterson listen in

She and her father are myrmecologists and they take the lead on the investigation into the killings. They are very reticent to give information and are hostile to questions about their process. It is surprising how much leeway the scientists are given with the FBI and police. But, a strong woman lead makes me happy and it is a pleasant change of pace over the traditional paradigm. After the team starts investigating in the desert where the child was found, the gigantic ant reveals itself to attack Dr. Patricia Medford. The first ant vs. human shootout occurs on film and it is a gas! Even though the gigantic ant is a little corny and doesn’t move very fast, there is a palpable sense of urgency. After realizing hand guns are not doing the trick, the police officer brings out a machine gun and puts down the ant.


Ant attacks Dr. Patricia Medford and Agent Graham!

The rest of the plot becomes a cat and mouse game of finding the wayward ants and eradicating them. From cyanide gas to bombing to flamethrowers, humans go through great lengths to protect themselves and their territory. It is at this point that I feel pretty sorry for the ants. They really were just following their nature, foraging for food and being ants. In fact, the whole situation is really our fault: it is revealed that the ants were mutated by the atomic bomb tests of the 40’s. Our thirst for atomic bombs created literal monsters that then have to be killed. Dr. Harold Medford states the final lines of the film, which ends up being the most poignant moment for me personally:, “When Man entered the atomic age, he opened a door into a new world. What we’ll eventually find in that new world, nobody can predict.”


Final Showdown!

The Atomic Age?

I’m holding out hope that this new nuclear world Dr. Medford mentions won’t be in too much of a hurry to destroy itself. We've already seen the horrors it produced at Hiroshima and Nagasaki in 1945 and we got a sneak preview of coming attractions during the Cuban Missile Crisis. And now I have to be on the lookout for giant animals when I’m back in the desert Southwest!

Nevertheless, I really enjoy this movie, which shares common themes with Godzilla. The conceit that humanity’s interests take precedence, regardless of the cost to nature (and the ensuing catastrophe this causes humanity) is something that gets played with quite a bit in those movies and I end up ultimately rooting for what many people consider to be the villain. Plus, in addition being morally resonant, Them! is just a lot of fun. I am now craving more “monster” movies and will be scanning the local listings to expand my palate of sci-fi.

Four stars.

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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Fashion, music, politics, sports

[February 14, 1966] "…to Replace the Pounds and the Shillings and the Pence" (Australia Goes Decimal)

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by Kaye Dee

Today is C-Day (Conversion Day) – the day Australia switches to decimal currency after 140 years of using the British system of Pounds, Shillings and Pence. (I actually think it should have been called D-Day, for Decimalisation Day, but I guess that might have seemed insensitive to some of our returned servicemen). Schoolkids are now sighing with relief that they will not have to learn to do those complicated “money sums” like all the generations before them!

A Rum Deal

Australia’s monetary history is rather colourful. In the early days of the penal colony in Sydney, there was very little hard currency available, and most transactions were by barter. Rum and other spirits became a form of currency, controlled by corrupt military officers, which earned their regiment the nickname “the Rum Corps”. When Governor Bligh (yes, that Bligh of Mutiny on the Bounty fame!) tried to prohibit spirits from being used as a medium of exchange, it resulted in a mutiny that drove him from the colony in 1808. This event is known, not surprisingly, as the Rum Rebellion.


Governor Macquarie, Bligh’s successor, introduced the first Australian currency. He purchased 40,000 Spanish dollars and had a round piece punched out of the middle of each one, producing two coins – the “holey dollar” (valued at five shillings) and the “dump” (valued at one shilling and three pence). His “minter” was a convicted forger!

Real Money

In the mid-1820s, the British Government finally decided to provide the Australian colonies with a proper currency and introduced the British system of Pounds, Shillings and Pence. If you’re not familiar with it, 12 pence (pennies) made up a shilling and 20 shillings made one pound.

Australia used British coins and banknotes right up into the early 1900s. It wasn’t until 1910, nine years after the colonies federated to form the Commonwealth of Australia, that the Australian Pound was introduced. Even then, it was branches of Britain’s Royal Mint in Sydney, Melbourne and Perth that produced the coins, indicating how closely Australia remained tied to Britain. The first Royal Australian Mint was only opened in early 1965 to produce our new decimal coins. 


Australian Pound notes (with pretty boring designs) and the full range of Australian coins available before the changeover to decimal currency. A "florin" was another name for a two shilling coin

Going Decimal

Several times in the past 50 years, there have been suggestions for Australia to adopt a decimal currency system. Decimal currency puts us in line with all the world’s major currencies, apart from the Pound Sterling, and all our trading partners apart from Great Britain. But Britain did not want Australia to change its monetary system, and successive Australian Governments and the Reserve Bank of Australia ultimately accepted the British view.

However, in the late 1950s, Prime Minister Robert Menzies finally recognised the economic and pragmatic importance of converting to a decimalised currency. With Australia’s export trade increasing, the complexity of the Pounds, Shillings and Pence system made the arithmetic of financial transactions unnecessarily difficult (as I know from personal experience). Research showed that decimalisation would save the Australian economy more than £11 million ($22 million) a year, through the increased convenience of a decimal currency. This would quickly offset the £30 million ($60 million) cost of conversion. So, in 1963 the Currency Act nominated 14 February 1966 as the day Australia would go decimal.

In Come the Dollars…

Our new currency needed a name and new designs that would be uniquely Australian. A public competition was held in 1963 to find a name “with an Australian flavour” for the currency. About 1000 submissions were received. These included suggestions such as Austral, Boomer (a male kangaroo), Kanga, Roo, Emu, Digger (an Australian soldier), Zac (old nickname for a sixpence coin; it’s also slang for something worthless), Kwid (a funny spelling of the old slang “quid” meaning a Pound), and Ming (from Prime Minister Menzies’ nickname, which comes from the Flash Gordon character “Ming the Merciless”!).


1963 prototype designs for the possible new "Royal". As you can see, one design followed the style of the existing Pound note, the other was quite modern and tilts towards the style in the eventual dollar design

Mr. Menzies rejected all the competition’s suggestions. Being a fervent monarchist, he proposed instead calling the currency the Royal. However, the public made it clear that they didn’t like that name (I certainly didn’t!), so in September 1963, the Treasurer announced that our new currency would be the dollar (which would be the equivalent of 10 shillings), divided into 100 cents. Everyone was much happier with that.

Monopoly Money
It was decided that the new coins should depict Australian wildlife while the notes should reflect national history and Australia’s contribution to the wider world. Gordon Andrews, one of Australia’s leading industrial designers, has designed the new notes. His bright colours and modern style have already led to some wits comparing the new notes to “Monopoly money”, but I think they look great and represent a nation which is coming out from under Britain’s shadow and finding its own feet. 

Australia's new decimal coins. The 1 cent piece shows a possum (a completely different animal from the American opossum); the 2 cent, a frill-necked lizard; the 5 cent coin shows an echidna (otherwise known as a spiny ant-eater) and the 10 cent a lyre-bird; the 20 cent depicts a platypus and the 50 cent coin carries the Australian Coat of Arms, which includes a kangaroo and an emu

The $1 note acknowledges Australia’s origins depicting Aboriginal art and Queen Elizabeth II, while the $2 highlights Australian agricultural innovation in the development of the superfine wool Australian Merino sheep and rust-disease resistant Federation wheat. The $10 note recognises the freed convicts who helped to build this country and our home-grown poets and writers, and the $20 celebrates internationally renowned Australian aviation pioneers. I understand that next year, once we have become more used to the new notes, a $5 bill will also be introduced. Hopefully, it will recognise the often-overlooked contribution of women to Australia’s history.

Our new dollar notes, with their fresh modern styling. To make the transition easier for users, the decimal notes have been matched to their counterparts in the “old money” and are similarly, but more brightly, coloured as you can see by comparison with the earlier image of the Australian Pounds

Meet Dollar Bill


Dollar Bill, the decimal changeover mascot, singing his jingle to a classical musician playing an instrument shaped like the Pound symbol

In April last year, a new character appeared on our TV screens and in cinema ads. His name is “Dollar Bill” and he was introduced as part of the government’s campaign to educate everyone about decimal currency before C-Day arrived. Dollar Bill has been on TV every night (sometimes too many times a night!), singing his catchy little jingle to help familiarise people with the new currency values and the date of changeover. The most memorable part of the jingle is: “In come the dollars and in come the cents, to replace the pounds and the shillings and the pence. Be prepared folks when the coins begin to mix, on the fourteenth of February 1966”. I’m not sure why, but the identity of the person who provides the voice for Dollar Bill is being kept a secret.

The jingle’s tune is based on the folk song “Click Go the Shears” (about sheering sheep in outback Australia). Everyone knows that song, so it makes the decimal currency rhyme easy to remember. I think it’s engraved on my brain now: I’ve heard it so many times, I suspect I’ll still be able to sing it when I’m sixty! Those of you in America might be interested to know that the tune was originally an American Civil War song "Ring the Bell, Watchman" by Henry Clay Work, that somehow made its way down under.


The character is very popular with kids and apparently the Decimal Currency Board gets about 500 fan mail letters a week for Dollar Bill from school children. He has appeared on everything from billboards to matchbox covers. 

To appeal to the teenage audience, there’s a hip little rock number called “The Decimal Point Song”, sung by a young man named Ian Turpie. It was never going to rate on the pop charts, but I think young Turpie could have a good career ahead of him in entertainment. For older Australians there’s even a series of television ads called “Get with It, Gran”.


Major retailers are helping customers feel comfortable with the changeover by including decimal prices and their "old money" equivalents in their catalogues

It's not easy for older people, or younger ones either for that matter, to get used to the change, especially if they are not very good at maths. But at least we have two years of changeover, during which both old and new currency can be used. Of course, the kids now in Primary School have it easy, as they'll grow up with the new system. It will be interesting to see on the news tonight how the first day of the changeover goes, but I doubt there will be the chaos that some pessimists are predicting after all the community preparation. And who knows – if things go smoothly, maybe the government will even consider taking Australia metric as well in the future! 


There are quite a few handy little pocket calculators like these available that make the conversion process relatively easy. I'll bet their inventors are making a small fortune




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Magazine, Science Fiction/Fantasy

[February 12, 1966] Past?  Imperfect.  Future?  Tense. (March 1966 Fantastic)

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by Victoria Silverwolf

Straight From the Horse's Mouth

The Noble Editor and my Esteemed Colleagues always do a fine job of informing our fellow Journeyers about what's happening on Earth and in outer space. There is one small piece of news, however, which seems to have escaped notice.

The last episode of Mister Ed appeared on American television screens last week. For those of you fortunate enough not to be familiar with this program, it's about a talking horse.


The star of the program. I believe there are some human actors as well.

I find it remarkable that a show with a premise that does not lend itself to a large number of variations has lasted for more than five years. For those of you who are counting, that's five times as long as the excellent, groundbreaking series East Side/West Side.


George C. Scott as New York City social worker Neil Brock. He doesn't seem happy about being outdone by a loquacious equine.

To add insult to injury, Mister Ed wasn't even original, but an obvious imitation of a series of low budget movies about Francis the Talking Mule, who appeared in no less than seven films from 1950 to 1956.


In Hollywood, changing a talking mule to a talking horse is known as creativity.

How Green Was My Valley

If the success of Mister Ed proves that entertainment was less than perfect in the recent past, a new novel suggests that the future of popular literature may lead to some tension among sensitive readers.


Every Night, Josephine! is a nonfiction book about the author's dog. I can't seem to get away from animals, can I?

Jacqueline Susann's first novel, Valley of the Dolls, appeared in bookstores a couple of days ago. The word on the street is that it is quite racy. I expect the author will earn a fair amount of greenbacks from this fledgling work of fiction.

A Songbird Flies Back

In the world of popular music, even a song a few weeks old can seem dated. A little more than a year ago, multilingual British singer Petula Clark had a Number One hit in the USA with her upbeat number Downtown, which I quite like. I might even say her past success is far from imperfect.

Now she's back with another smash hit. It makes me a little tense to realize that My Love isn't as good a song as Downtown, but I have to admit that the lady can sing, and I wish her more success in the future.


You're going to the top of the charts, dear.

Half a Century for Half a Buck

Given the fact that Fantastic and its sister publication Amazing are now filling their pages with lots of reprints, not all of them classics, we have plenty of evidence that speculative fiction's past hasn't always been perfect. The latest issue goes back in time nearly fifty years, but also features a couple of new works. Appropriately, many of the stories deal with threats from the distant past, while the only futuristic tale describes a tense situation that may confront the people of tomorrow.


Cover art by Frank R. Paul, reprinted from the back cover of the November 1940 issue of Amazing Stories, as shown below.


I don't think this is a very accurate picture of what the surface of the moon Titan might be like.

The Bells of Shoredan, by Roger Zelazny


Illustrations by Gray Morrow.

We've already met Dilvish, a warrior who escaped from Hell, a couple of times before. He returns to the material world to defend his homeland, with the aid of a being that takes the form of a steel talking horse. (There's that again! Francis and Ed, what hath thou wrought?)

In this adventure, he journeys to the ruins of an incredibly ancient, seemingly deserted citadel. His quest is to ring enchanted bells that will summon soldiers from the limbo where they have been trapped for an immense amount of time. Along the way, he acquires a temporary companion in the form of a priest.


The unlikely pair witness a ghostly battle.

Dilvish is an intriguing character, and the author gives readers just enough information about his past to make them want to know more. This sword-and-sorcery yarn is full of imaginative supernatural happenings and plenty of action. I could quibble about the author's attempt to sound archaic — he has a habit of inserting the word did before verbs in order to sound old-fashioned — but that's a minor point. Overall, it's a solid example of the form. I'd place it somewhere between Robert E. Howard and Fritz Leiber, and a little bit higher than John Jakes.

Four stars.

Hardly Worth Mentioning, By Chad Oliver


Cover art by W. T. Mars.

From the pages of the May/June 1953 issue of the magazine comes this tale of unexpected rivals of humanity from the mists of prehistory.


Illustrations by Ernie Barth.

A team of archeologists digging in rural Mexico discovers a plastic disk in a layer of soil from pre-Columbian times. The apparent paradox leads the protagonist to discover that another humanoid species, distinct from Homo sapiens, has been directing human history since the beginning. They even have the ability to travel in time, in order to correct little mistakes, like leaving the plastic disk where it could be found centuries later.


An army of the time travelers arrives in an ancient Indian village.

When the archeologist discovers the truth, the humanoids hurt him in the worst way possible. Knowing that he cannot fight them directly, he resolves to protect the future of humanity in a different way.

The author is an anthropologist by profession, so his portrait of the related field of archeology is completely convincing. The price the protagonist must pay for learning too much carries a powerful emotional impact. I was pleased and surprised to find out that the story avoids a melodramatic battle between the two species, but instead ends in a quiet, hopeful, bittersweet fashion.

Four stars.

Axe and Dragon (Part Three of Three), by Keith Laumer


Illustration by Gray Morrow.

In the first two parts of this novel, we journeyed with our hero, one Lafayette O'Leary, into another reality, that he seemed to create through self-hypnosis. After many wild adventures, he wound up getting blamed for the disappearance of a beautiful princess. Now he sets out to rescue her from a legendary ogre and his dragon.

This segment starts off with an even more comedic tone than the others, bordering on the just plain silly. Lafayette meets with some folks who are obviously intended to be cartoon versions of Arabs. They remind me of a famous novelty song from a few years ago, Ahab the Arab, by comic singer Ray Stevens. As an example of the goofiness, at a feast they not only consume Chinese and Hawaiian dishes, but bottles of Pepsi.

Anyway, Lafayette goes on to acquire a loyal steed in the form of a friendly dinosaur, and finally meets the ogre. The ogre has a very strange brother indeed. After an unexpected scene of bloody violence in such a lighthearted story, Lafayette returns to the palace. He meets an old rival, learns the truth about the king's mysterious wizard, saves the princess, discovers who was behind her kidnapping, finds out about his own special background, and gets the girl (although maybe not in the way you'd expect.)

The whole thing moves at a furious, breakneck pace, so that you don't realize it doesn't always make a whole lot of sense. Lafayette's ability to change reality, for example, seems to come and go, depending on how the author needs to propel the plot. There's a scientific explanation, of sorts, from the so-called wizard about what's really going on, but it might as well just be pure magic. It's entertaining enough to keep you reading, but hardly substantial.

Three stars.

Keep Out, by Fredric Brown


Cover art by Clarence Doore.

The March 1954 issue of Amazing Stories supplies this brief tale, from a master of the short-short story.


Illustration by John Schoenherr.

From birth, a group of people are bred to survive on the surface of Mars. The narrator is one of these folks, and reveals their plans.

Some of Brown's tiny tales are masterpieces of a very difficult form. This one is not. I saw the twist ending coming. Maybe you will, too.

Two stars.

The People of the Pit, by A. Merritt


I have been unable to find out who drew this cover.

We jump back to the January 5, 1918 issue of All-Story Weekly for yet another yarn about danger from the remote past. It was reprinted in the March 1927 issue of Amazing Stories.


Cover art by Frank R. Paul.

Some folks head for a remote part of the Arctic in search of gold. A man who is nearly dead crawls to their campsite and relates his strange story.

It seems that there is an immense pit, bigger than the Grand Canyon, beyond a chain of mountains. Not only that, but a gigantic set of stairs, carved in the remote past, leads down into it.

The fellow descends into the pit, and encounters bizarre beings who enslave him. He tells how he finally escaped, and managed to crawl his way back up to the surface.


Illustration by Martin Gambee.

This story reminds me of H. P. Lovecraft, with its unimaginably old structures and creatures who are almost beyond the ability of the human mind to conceive. Given the original date of publication, I presume Lovecraft was influenced by it. The author creates a genuine sense of weirdness and menace. The old-fashioned use of a narrative-within-a-narrative slows things down a bit, and it's mostly description rather than plot, but it's not bad at all.

Three stars.

Your Soul Comes C.O.D., by Mack Reynolds


Cover art by Leo Summers and Ed Valigursky.

Once you get beyond the face of Joseph Stalin on the front of the March 1952 issue of Fantastic Adventures, you'll find the original appearance of this variation on a very old theme.


Illustration by Leo Summers.

A guy intends to summon a demon in order to exchange his soul for a good life. Before he can even perform the necessary ritual, however, a being appears, ready to make a deal. The man gains forty years of true love, prosperity, and a happy family. When it comes time to pay the price, he finds out what he bargained for.

A story like this depends entirely on the twist in the tail. I have to admit that the author took me by surprise and came up with a new version of the sell-your-soul premise.

Three stars.

How Did You Enjoy Today's Grammar Lesson?

Example of the past imperfect: I was reading Fantastic magazine yesterday.

Example of the future tense: I will finish this article today.

Well, that may not be the best way to study the structure of English, but it gives me something to think about while I sum up my feelings about this issue. For the most part, it was pretty good. Only the Fredric Brown reprint was disappointing, because I expected more from him. There was a good old story, and a good new story. The rest of the stuff was decent filler.

If you don't care for the way I'm acting like a language instructor, maybe you'd prefer something a little more technologically advanced.


Don't blame me if you don't like math.

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

[February 10, 1966] Within and without (Isaac Asimov's Fantastic Voyage and Samuel R. Delany's Empire Star)

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[This month's first Galactoscope features an esteemed pair of science fiction novels.  The first is by one of the genre's most accomplished veterans, the other by one of its newest and brightest lights…]


by Gideon Marcus

Fantastic Voyage, by Isaac Asimov

A defector from beyond the Iron Curtain lies dying on the operating table, a terrible secret in his brain.  Only an operation from the inside has any chance of success.  Thus begins a fantastic voyage in which five souls in a midget submarine are miniaturized and injected into the patient.  Their destination: the blood clot that threatens the defecting scientist's mind.

A myriad of biological wonders and horrors awaits the team, from antibodies to circulatory typhoons.  But even more dangerous to the mission is the possibility of a saboteur on board.  Is it Owens, pilot and designer of the Proteus?  Duval, the brilliant but antisocial surgeon?  His expert laser technician assistant, Peterson? The cartographer of the circulatory system, Michaels?  Or could it be Grant, the agent dispatched to watch the other four?

And can the saboteur be stopped before the miniaturization wears off, killing the patient and potentially the crew?

Voyage marks the author's return to novel-length fiction after a nearly a decade.  The circumstances are unusual; I understand the book is actually a novelization of a movie script, though unusually, the movie is not due out for many months.  Dr. A is, of course, a great choice for the job.  With his chemistry and general scientific background, he renders just plausible what will likely be enjoyable folderol on the screen.  He combines a vivid depiction of the inside of the human body with his usual competent pacing and plotting.  And as an old hand at mysteries (he essentially invented the still meager science fiction/mystery hybrid genre), he does a good job turning a science fiction adventure into a whodunnit.

I suspect what I don't like about the book mostly derives from the original script.  I found a lot of the action sequences a bit tedious.  Frankly, I might have been happier with a book that was just a guided tour of the human body from within, so deft is the Good Doctor with his nonfiction writing.  I also found Grant's incessant pursuit of Ms. Peterson (first name, Cora, like our esteemed fellow traveler) annoying — just let her do her job, man!  Also, only two thirds of the book are devoted to the actual voyage, insertion not taking place until page 70.  The build-up to the action feels a bit drawn out.

Nevertheless, it's a fine book and it's great to see Asimov flexing his fictional muscles again.

Three and a half stars.

Empire Star, by Samuel R. Delany


by John Boston

Samuel R. Delany has been quietly pumping out Ace paperbacks for a while, building a reputation from the bottom up.  He’s up to six now with the newest, Empire Star, and I thought I’d better pay some attention. 


by Jack Gaughan

Empire Star is your basic unprepossessing—actually, pretty ugly—half of an Ace Double, just under 100 pages, with generically goofy blurb: "He warped time and space to deliver a message to eternity."  But open it up and it features epigraphs from Proust and W.H. Auden (a first for Ace, I'm sure), and then introduces us to Comet Jo.  What?  Is this the new Captain Future?

Fortunately not.  Comet Jo is a yokel, galactically speaking, living on a satellite (of what, it’s not clear) in the Tau Ceti system.  He’s physically graceful, with claws on one hand, and his hair is long and either wheat-colored or yellow depending on which paragraph you’re reading.  He carries an ocarina wherever he goes.  He works tending the underground fields of plyasil, more crudely known as jhup, “an organic plastic that grows in the flower of a mutant strain of grain that only blooms with the radiation that comes from the heart of Rhys in the darkness of the caves.” He got his nickname wandering away from home to look at the stars.

One day Comet Jo hears a menacing noise, sees a devil-kitten (eight legs, three horns, hisses when upset) which leads him to where “green slop frothed and flamed,” with writhing, dying figures visible in it.  One of them breaks out—Comet Jo’s double—and tells him he needs to take a message to Empire Star, but dies before he can say what the message is.  The kitten rescues a small object from the now-cooled and evaporating puddle.  This is Jewel—“multicolored, multifaceted, multiplexed, and me”—i.e., the narrator, who we later learn is a “crystallized Tritovian.” Say what?  High-powered miniature computer with a personality—at least that will do.

So Comet Jo (hereinafter denominated “CJ”) goes to the spaceport the next morning to head for Empire Star, which he knows nothing about, to deliver a message he doesn’t have.  This farmhand gets hired on the spot to work on a spaceship, no questions asked.  On the way he encounters the strikingly dressed San Severina, who tells him he’s a beautiful boy but he needs to comb his hair, gives him a comb, and offers him diction lessons.  She proves to be the owner of the ship he’s working on, and of the seven Lll aboard—sentient slaves who are great builders and project their emotions of great sadness to anyone who gets close to them.  Owning these slaves is not a lot of fun.

Why not free them?  “Economics.” San Severina explains that after a war she has “eight worlds, fifty-two civilizations, and thirty-two thousand three hundred and fifty-seven complete and distinct ethical systems to rebuild,” and can’t do it without the enslaved Lll.  She also tells CJ he has a long journey ahead and has a message to deliver quite precisely.  How she knows this is not explained, and CJ still doesn’t know what the message is.  This is one of many incidents in which the people CJ encounters seem to know more about his mission than he does.

During these events, and later, CJ is told that he and his culture are simplex, as opposed to complex and multiplex, terms which are tossed around throughout the book without being defined very precisely.  (Where is A.E. van Vogt when you need him?  Never mind, forget I said it.) We are told that multiplex means being able to see things from different points of view, and also it seems to have something to do with pattern recognition.  Also the multiplex ask questions when they need to.  It certainly means becoming more mentally capable.  A big part of the story is CJ’s getting more plexy with experience. 

San Severina leaves him on Earth on his own, but advises him to “find the Lump.” Say what?  Only clue is it’s “not a people.” The Lump—which turns out to be a linguistic ubiquitous multi-plex, also part Lll, in the guise of a portly man named Oscar—finds him.  They set out in separate spaceships, but CJ quickly bumps into something—the Geodetic Survey Station, whose occupants are up to volume 167, Bba to Bbaab—and narrowly escapes the wrath of a comical and homicidal pedant.  At their destination, in orbit around the inhospitable planet Tantamount, CJ and Oscar encounter the poet Ni Ty Lee, who discloses that he worked on Rhys in the jhup fields before, and also played the ocarina once, which mightily disturbs CJ, and leads into a disquisition by the Lump on the works of Theodore Sturgeon, four thousand years gone by the time of the story.  Ni Ty Lee discloses more things he has done before CJ, including hanging out with San Severina, and CJ gets even more upset.  Ni isn’t happy either; he exclaims, “Always returning, always coming back, always the same things over and over and over!” Hint, in neon!

Enough synopsis.  The book continues in similar style.  It should be clear by now that large parts of this story make very little sense, starting with CJ’s determination to leave his farm job and head for the galactic capital with a yet-nonexistent message, because he was told to do so under the most bizarre and alarming circumstances.  But that’s OK because it’s not really a story in the usual sense.  Rather, it’s a story about a story, or about Story, or about the author moving game pieces about a board, each piece decorated with a piece of the stock imagery of pulp SF.  (Towards the end there’s even a Prince leading a spaceborne army to take over Empire Star, and the heiress to the throne struggling to thwart him.) Maybe it’s better described as a confection.  There is of course a revelation at the end that purports to rationalize everything, and does to some extent, but it’s almost beside the point.

My patience for this sort of construct is generally limited, but Empire Star is extremely well done.  It’s enormously clever, with many pleasing and colorful displays along the way; there’s much more detail and incident than the foregoing half-synopsis hints, even if much remains unexplained or implausible.  Enormous cleverness colorfully rendered is never to be sneezed at.  Four stars.

[Note: We will have to read Tom Purdom's The Tree Lord of Imeton to finish this Ace Double, and also because, well, it's Tom Purdom! Stay tuned…(ed.)]

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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Fashion, music, politics, sports, Magazine, Science Fiction/Fantasy, Serial

[February 8, 1966] Feeling A Draft (March 1966 IF)

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by David Levinson

Dodging the issue

Conscription has been part of American military planning for a little over a century, and it’s never been popular. From the draft riots of the Civil War to young men burning their draft cards today, there has always been resistance. During the Civil War, wealthy men could hire substitutes to go in their stead, and during the First World War, selection was done by local draft boards, which were subject to local pressure and tended to draft the poor. The interwar period saw the introduction of the lottery system in an effort to overcome the inequities of the past, and, with a brief return to local draft boards during World War Two, it has persisted to today.

On January 6th, the Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee became the first Black civil rights organization to come out against the draft, citing the lack of freedom at home for so many and the fact that Blacks are over-represented. This statement gave the Georgia House of Representatives an excuse to refuse seating the newly elected Julian Bond. Mr. Bond is one of the founders of the SNCC and endorsed the statement issued by the group. He is probably also the most visible of the eleven Black men recently elected to the Georgia House. The claim was that by endorsing the opposition to the war and the draft, he could not swear to uphold the constitution of the United States.


Julian Bond outside the Georgia House. What possible objection could they have to him?

A long tradition

It is timely that, amid the draft protest furor, January 27th saw the death of Grover Cleveland Bergdoll, once known as America’s most notorious draft dodger (or 'slacker' as they were called during and after WWI). The scion of a wealthy Philadelphia brewing family, he enjoyed a playboy lifestyle before the war. He drove race cars and was one of the first people to learn to fly, even owning a Wright Model B. He registered for the draft, but failed to appear for a physical and was declared a deserter. He managed to stay on the run for two years, but was finally arrested in 1920 in his family home, with his mother waving a gun and threatening the authorities. Sentenced to five years, Bergdoll was released under guard to recover an alleged cache of gold, but he escaped and eventually made his way to Germany. There were two attempts to kidnap him, both ending disastrously for the would-be kidnappers. He married a German woman and settled down, though he made two extended trips back to America. He returned to the States for good with his family in 1939. Sentenced to serve the rest of his original term and an additional three years, he left prison in 1944 and moved to Virginia. He died of pneumonia, aged 72. He is survived by his ex-wife and eight children.


Bergdoll’s original wanted poster.

The issue at hand

In the theme of this heightened era of military involvement (and lack thereof) this month’s IF plays host to several seasoned veterans, as well as the monthly new recruit. The stories range in quality from 1-A to not quite 4-F. The cover is even given to a story about a draft dodger, though one not one tenth as interesting as Grover Bergdoll.


A drab cover for a drab story. Art by Hector Castellon

The Long Way to Earth, by John Brunner

Kynance Foy has a problem. Armed with a degree in qua-space physics and an encyclopedic knowledge of interstellar commerce and law, she left Earth for the outer worlds to make her fortune. But the farther out she has gone, the harder it is for a Terran to find employment, and now she can’t even scrape up the price of a ticket home. Which is why the prospect of a job that pays nearly five times the going annual wage and offers repatriation at the end of the contract it too good to pass up. The catch is that she has to spend a year as the only person on a remote planet.

The man in charge of the project is only too happy to give her the job after she rebuffs his crude advances. It’s only on arrival that she discovers just how easy it is to breach her contract and be denied so much as passage off the planet, as has happened to every other person to hold the job. When a handful of her predecessors turn up, she knows that so much as acknowledging their existence will terminate her contract, but Kynance has a plan.


Executive Shuster is about to get the surprise of his life. Art by Adkins

This is a solid story: Brunner at his best writing a more traditional tale. Which is not quite as good as Brunner at his best when writing a more modern tale, but still good. Kudos for a woman protagonist who, while beautiful, gets by on her brains and is an active, driving force of the narrative. Three stars.

Ouled Nail, by H. H. Hollis

Our unnamed narrator runs into rocket jockey Gallegher in a New York bar. Galllegher works the Earth-Mars run, where a man spends months alone between planets and can go more than a little stir-crazy. He launches into a long tale of his friend Pick Pratt, who seems to have come up with a way to help spacers get over their stress.

Hollis is this month’s first time writer. This is something of a stereotypical science fiction bar tale, but I can’t say I enjoyed it much. Gallegher is an obnoxious narrator and the conclusion has holes you could fly a fleet of spaceships through. The Ouled Nail of the title are an Algerian tribe known for sending out their women to work as dancers and courtesans in the oases and towns near where they live. I had not heard of them before, so the best thing I can say for this story is that it sent me to the library to learn something. Two stars.

Dam Nuisance, by Keith Laumer

Retief is back. This time out, the CDT is supporting South Skweem, while the Groaci are backing North Skweem. Ambassador Treadwater is trying to come up with a grand public works project, but policy says it can’t be useful. Meanwhile, the Groaci are building a dam for North Skweem, one which is causing a drought in half of South Skweem and flooding the other half. To top things off Ben Magnan has disappeared while paying a courtesy call to the Groaci mission. As usual, it’s up to Retief to put everything to rights.


The differences are apparent to any right-thinking diplomat. Art by Gaughan

Even I am beginning to grow weary of Retief. Like a song that plays every single time you turn on the radio, it doesn’t matter how good it might be, it’s getting old. The worst part is the wasted opportunity. Laumer is clearly drawing on the situation in South-east Asia, with a bit of the Aswan Dam thrown in. That’s a set-up for biting satire – which we know he’s capable of writing – but instead we get a retread. Someone who’s never read a Retief story might enjoy this, but regular readers can only sigh over what might have been. A very low three stars.

Draft Dodger, by Kenneth Bulmer

Hugo Lack has received his call-up notice to the Terran Space Navy. Desperate to avoid serving, he visits draft-dodging facilitator Jerky Jones, but about the only thing he can afford is an irreversible lobotomy. Lack is soon scooped up by the Navy and enters a dream-like, almost fugue state that sees him through boot camp and deployment. He winds up in the quartermaster corps in an out-of-the-way base, but one day the war comes to him.

What a dull, dull story. It’s not terribly engaging to begin with, but when Hugo enters his sleepwalking state, the narrative voice follows him. Bulmer is trying to say something about the way the military creates heroes and the ungrateful people back home, but mostly he perpetuates the idea that the only reason someone might not want to “do his duty” is cowardice. Two stars.

The Moon Is a Harsh Mistress (Part 4 of 5), by Robert A. Heinlein

Revolution has come to the Moon, and now it’s time for someone to travel to Earth and make the case for independence. After a harrowing journey in a cargo pod, Mannie and Prof arrive in India. They spend some time appearing before a supposedly new UN committee, but which is actually the committee overseeing the Lunar Authority. During an extended break, they go on a whirlwind tour of the Earth, with Mannie using ploys developed by Mike and Prof to drive wedges between various factions. Returning to India, they are presented a plan from the committee to turn all free Loonies (some 90% of the population) into client-employees. If they don’t like it, they can be repatriated to Earth, where most of them have never been and none can live comfortably.

As the situation turns bad, Mannie and Prof make their escape, assisted by Stu and return to the Moon. The events of the trip make excellent propaganda to fire up the people, and there is now a duly elected government in place. With a bit of manipulation, Prof winds up as Prime Minister and Secretary of State, Wyoh is Speaker pro tem and Mannie is Minister of Defense. An embargo is imposed on the shipment of grain Earthside and a grain pod is fired at an unpopulated part of the Sahara to show that the Moon can defend itself. And then Earth invades. Troop ships sent on long orbits come in from the back of the Moon where Mike can’t see them. War has come to the Moon. To be concluded.


The Earth strikes back! Art by Morrow

Heinlein continues to excel. We get what is probably the most action we’ve seen, with the promise of more next time, but most of the story is committee meetings, back-room deals and political wrangling. And it’s still compelling! We do get one bit of pure Heinleinian didacticism when Prof trots out a parable of a man whose job is polishing the brass cannon on the courthouse lawn and one day quits his job, sells everything he has and buys his own cannon to go into business for himself. I understand Heinlein wanted to call this book The Brass Cannon. Fortunately, he was talked out of it. Anyway, four stars and I eagerly await the conclusion.

Summing Up

Once again, Heinlein shines out brightly. A couple of Journey writers have noted that there are two John Brunners: the exciting New Wave writer and the conventional writer for the American market. He’s managed to bridge the gap slightly this time, though he's still much closer to the second Brunner than the first. After that, it’s Laumer going through the motions and some sub-par filler. I have to say, that doesn’t fill me with a lot of confidence about what happens once the current serial ends.


This seems like an unusual pairing, but it’s nice to see the return of Rosel Brown.




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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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