Tag Archives: 1968

[March 18, 1968] What Defines Humanity? (Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?)

by Robin Rose Graves

What defines Humanity?

When Androids are created to look and behave indistinguishably from humans, this question bears even greater importance.

The setting: Earth. The time: not too far from now. Rick Deckard is a man whose job is to “retire” escaped androids, using an empathy test to determine who is human and who is not. Most questions revolve around treatment of animals and only complete revulsion at the thought of eating meat or using leather made from an animal’s hide would allow someone to pass.

Ironic, given that I would not pass this test, and you, Dear Reader, probably wouldn’t either.

But these attitudes make sense in the context of Deckard’s world.

Survivors are few and far between on a nuclear-war destroyed Earth. Most humans have emigrated to a terraformed Mars. Animals no longer exist in the wild and what few creatures have evaded extinction are kept as pets and used as a sign of social status. Rick Deckard’s sheep shamefully died years ago, and since not owning an animal at all would mark him as inhuman, Deckard secretly replaced his animal with an ersatz electric sheep. Most of his motivation in this story is to acquire a new live animal to replace his fake one, and it’s this social pressure that leads him to taking on one last job before he leaves retiring androids behind him.

While hunting a dangerous group of runaway androids, Deckard is seduced by an android he meets earlier in the story – Rachael. Rachael so happens to share the same model as one of the targets and attempts to seduce him so that he will feel conflicted about killing his target.

I enjoy when sexuality is explored in science fiction, but the scene that follows was greatly uncomfortable for me to read. Don’t mistake me for being a prude, but Rachael’s body is described as pre-pubescent. Perhaps Dick meant to relay that she is lacking in shape or body hair, but I read it to be girlishly young. I believe the author’s intent might have been to relay to readers that this relationship is immoral, in which case, I think he succeeded.

While Deckard’s weakness towards androids is rooted in his sexual attraction towards them, there is another notable character who empathizes with the androids, but for a drastically different reason.

Because he scored too low on an IQ test, Isidore has been marked as “special,” meaning he isn’t allowed to emigrate to Mars or even procreate and overall is regarded as “lesser.” When the group of runaways Deckard is hunting hides out in Isidore’s otherwise abandoned building, he quickly allies with them, out of perhaps a mix of loneliness but also kinship.

I found Isidore to be the most compelling character in the book. Through him, Dick creates a strong irony. Humans feel superior over androids, priding themselves on the one thing they have that androids don’t – the ability to empathize – yet it’s ironic that Isidore, a human being, is actually treated worse than animals for his supposed lack of intelligence, while androids are most notable for being incredibly intelligent.

Author: Philip K. Dick

So what defines humanity? Dick offers no clear answers, but instead evokes several interesting discussion points that I am sure will stick with me for years to come. 5 Stars.



by Jason Sacks

I’ve raved about Philip K. Dick several times in these pages, full of praise for his kitchen-sink imagination and his unprecedented ability to build up worlds. The estimable Mr. Dick has done some astoundingly great work in the past, but his latest novel, which has the brilliantly odd title Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?, is his best work so far.

The most pervasive theme in Dick’s writing is the idea that technology can't lift us up to a higher place. In fact,  no matter how greatly our technology improves, humanity can never escape its own inner pathos. People will always be people, with all our multifaceted flaws, and we can never escape our basest motives.

Do Androids Dream is set in an Earth which is living with the aftereffects of World War Terminus, a nuclear event which nobody quite knows who started, but which has caused utter devastation on our planet. Earth has mostly been deserted – most people have been killed by the war and its radiation, and those who weren’t killed or sterilized by the resulting fallout were transported off-planet to various planets, where a new civilization has emerged with andy (android) servants of “as many types as there were cars in the 1950s," a nice Dickian touch of verisimilitude.

It's also a nice Dickian touch for there to be so much uncertainty who started the War, and for nobody much to care about its origins. As he nearly always does, Dick concentrates on the ordinary people affected by the event and on their sad little lives of quiet desperation.

Our main character is a poor schlub named Rick Deckard, who we immediately learn is married to a woman who seems indifferent to him. Iran Deckard loves her Penfield Mood Organ, a device she uses to dial her mood to a six-hour self-accusatory depression (or an awareness of the manifold opportunities open to her in the future, to help her break out of the depression). Rick and Iran bicker and fight, about her love for the Penfield, about Rick’s love for his animal, and about why the couple couldn’t emigrate from Earth. Iran is a pretty typical wife in a Dick novel – we’ve seen him write shrewish women since his nongenre novels of the 1940s – but this wife has some agency about her, some inner life which shows an emotional complexity beyond some of the more impulsive women Dick has written in previous works.

Like most of the people who live in this devastated San Francisco, Deckard is captivated by the idea of owning an animal. In a world devastated by war, an animal is a precious commodity. But Deckard can’t find an actual living animal to buy, at least not anything he wants to buy or remotely in his price range.

So Deckard has to buy an artificial animal, a robotic sheep, to take place of his sad living sheep who died of tetanus. Deckard is obsessed with the pathetic nature of his robotic animal, desperate to own a real living animal as a status symbol to make his life more fulfilling. If he earns enough credits on his job, Deckard might be able to buy a bovine creature, perhaps a cow, if he can pick up a well-paying job.

Deckard works as a kind of android hunter, in fact. See, andys from the colonies have returned to the Earth, and Deckard is paid a commission to hunt down and bag the andys. But it can be hard to tell the difference between the andys and the real people. The only easy way to tell the difference is through an understanding of empathy. The Voight-Kampff scale tests empathy; when Deckard’s predecessor tried to use the scale on an andy, he was brutally killed for his efforts. Thus, taking on this bounty hunter case is a test for Deckard in a truly existential way – both his sense of his own humanity and his very life are under threat.

Humans exist in a constant cloud of empathy. Deckard feels things, often too deeply. He lives in a world of envy and object lust, of self-pity and pathos.

He’s even part of a fascinating pseudo-religion called Mercerism whose practices are based all around the creation of a kind of empathy in its followers. Followers of Mercerism connect themselves to a kind of universal shared device which allows them to psychically feel each other as well as feeling empathy for all of Mercer’s struggles as be battles his way up a hill while being pelted with rocks from some unknown force. There’s an element of the passion of the Christ in Mercer's struggles, as this near universal connection and sacrifice connects all the believers to each other in a transcendent way.

Mr. Dick, in a recent photo

Opposing Mercer is Buster Friendly, the always-on, always smirking TV personality who has an unbreakable influence on everybody on both Earth and the colonies. Buster interrupts his endless blather with a diatribe against Mercer – and the way that whole storyline plays out is tremendously interesting.

Our secondary protagonist here, John Isidore (see Robin's article above for her insightful views of him), is a major follower of Mercerism, and the way this religion spans class and intelligence is a fascinating element of Dick's tale. In the future, it seems culture is monololithic and controlled by unseeing, unknown people for reasons scarcely pondered – a fascinating black hole in this most complex novel.

And, wow, there’s just so much else here that’s rich and intriguing. The book touches deeply on the concept of entropy, with Deckard acting as a kind of force that continually unmakes the world around him. Crucial to the ideas of the book is the idea of kipple, the slow entropy and destruction of everything mankind made. Deckard is a kind of human version of kipple, causing the dissolution of all of mankind’s aspirations.

There are nods to the arts, and to real human love, and there are some beautiful passages about human loneliness and this is all written in such lovely, simple, precise prose.

And the ending does so much to cast the entirety of this rich, complex world in a different light. The ending of this novel has a profound effect on what happened previously and leaves a powerful aftertaste for the reader.

Do Android Dream brings so many thematic lines to the surface in so many ways, with so many different approaches, that the writing approaches true profundity.

What does it mean to be human when your emotions are regulated, when your passions are sublimated into hobbies, when you’re mistreated by others, when even the very basic nature of humanity is nullified by the concept of artificial beings indistinguishable from real people? Is it inherent in being a human being to feel base emotions but to also seek the kind of transcendence that Mercerism provides? Is it really our empathy that makes us human? Does it decrease our humanity to have to dial up emotions or does it enhance that same humanity? Are all our petty goals and aspirations unimportant when our shared sacrifice for Mercer makes individuality feel almost subversive? In the end, what does it mean to be human at all?

And all of this brilliant philosophy is delivered in a beautifully written novel of a mere 170 compulsively readable pages.

This is Philip K. Dick’s finest work so far. 5 stars, and a clear contender for a Galactic Star of 1968.




[March 14, 1968] Bugs in the machine (Star Trek: "The Ultimate Computer")

The MT Soul


by Joe Reid

Brothers and sisters, I am quite simply over the moon.  I feel rewarded and fulfilled due to what I just witnessed.  Above all else, I feel something that I haven’t felt in a while as a lover of Star Trek.  I feel respected.  As I enjoy the last few sips of my cocktail, I take pleasure in divulging my thoughts on “The Ultimate Computer”.  It was very good!  The end.


Liquor infused levity aside, I suppose I am obligated to expand on my thoughts.  The episode got off to a roaring start, with the Enterprise arriving at a space station with a visibly upset Kirk having been summoned to that station sans explanation.  When Kirk asked for an explanation, he was told that his explanation would be beamed aboard.  Commodore Wesley beamed in, someone who both Kirk and Spock appeared acquainted with.  Wesley told them that they were to participate in war games to test a new computer that would be installed on the Enterprise, replacing most of the crew.  Twenty crew members would be left aboard.

After the new M5 multitronic unit was installed, shrinking the crew, we met the tall and off-putting Dr. Richard Daystrom, creator of the M5.  He was a man lacking several human pleasantries, in that he was dismissive of people but very focused on and protective of the M5.  The two most human members of the crew, Bones and Scotty, caught Daystrom’s ire in the subsequent exchanges, demonstrating his preference for machines over men.


The new sheriff in town.

As the new M5 equipped Enterprise started its tour, it made a trip to a planet.  M5 took extra initiative, navigating the ship into its orbit and even picking assignments for an away team. It excluded Kirk and Bones, who it deemed to be unnecessary for the mission.  This bothered Kirk, who was already feeling put upon, having a computer taking on more of this job than he surmised.  The M5 also started turning off parts of the ship that were absent of crew members for some unknown reason.

Leaving the planet, the ship found itself under a sneak attack as a part of the war games Wesley had planned.  The M5 took complete control of the Enterprise, dispatching the attackers swiftly with weapons at 1% power as the exercise demanded.  This earned the M5 a success report from Wesley and Kirk a (perhaps joking) slight from the commodore, when Wesley called Kirk Captain “Dunsel”; dunsel referring to a part on a ship that serves no purpose.


"Good job, Captain Useless!"

Things were looking good for the M5 and Daystrom was very pleased with the outcomes, while Kirk flirted with depression at the thought of the day’s events.  It was at this time that the M5 took a bad turn, starting by its destroying (unprovoked) an automated ore freighter.  The crew quickly became adversarial toward the M5, which now had completely taken control of the ship.  All efforts to get control back from the rogue computer failed, even costing an engineer (not Scotty, thank heaven) his life.


Posthumous hazard pay is in order.

Daystrom was undeterred in his defense of his creation, not wanting to disconnect the M5, a sentiment which didn't change even as the real war games started when M5, using weapons at 100%, utterly defeated a group of starships and killed everyone on the Excalibur.  Daystrom didn’t even try to stop his creation until the M5 was threatened with destruction by the other ships.


Here comes the Piper.

In the end, it took Kirk, using his ironclad logic against the M5, which contained Daystrom’s embedded fears but also his morality, to prevail.  He prevented an attack not using the wizardry of technology, but by trusting in the intelligence, will, and heart of men.  Proving that spaceships still need men at the helm.

I loved this episode.  It had great acting, fantastic camera direction, an intelligent original story, and best of all, there was little to no exposition to explain what was happening to the audience.  We had to infer what everything meant based on the story elements provided.  Again, it was very good.

5 stars.


Homo ex machina


by Gideon Marcus

Star Trek, like much science fiction, often tries to convey messages in its stories.  Sometimes, it does so hamfistedly, other times contradictorily.  In "The Ultimate Computer", the show presented not one, but two themes simultaneously, and did so with subtlety and cleverness. Bravo.

Firstly, "Computer" addresses the specter of automation.  The episode does not endorse Luddism.  It is clear that someday at least some of the 430 jobs on the Enterprise will be performed by computer–indeed, halfway through the episode, the ship comes across a completely robot-controlled DY-500.  In other words, M-5's revolution is not the automation of spaceships, but the next development in their automation.

The dialogue between Bones and Kirk on the captain's impending obsolescence, as well as the undercurrent of tension between the captain and Commodore Wesley (who puts on a blustery front, but probably is no happier about M-5's ramifications than Kirk), are some of the best parts of the episode.

It should also be noted, that whenever computers have gone amok, it is not their fault: in "The Changeling", Nomad's functioning got cross-contaminated with Tan Ru's.  In "Court Martial", the ship's computer is deliberately tampered with by Ben Finney.  Even Landru in "Return of the Archons" only did what it was programmed to do.  In other words, computers are useful, inevitable, and desirable tools.

But this is not just a story of steam replacing sail, or iron horses replacing ponies.  It's about what happens when too much reliance is placed on automation without sufficient involvement of humans.  It's a cautionary tale in the same vein as Failsafe (the book or the movie).  No matter how sophisticated computers get, or what shortcuts their developers take to leapfrog their development, in the end, humans are necessary–to guide them, to control them, to maximize the utility of them.


The missing link–sane oversight.

One can quibble over details; this story was told in a dramatic way so as to get its point across in 50 minutes, and in doing so, there are some inconsistencies and some let-downs (the final confrontation between Kirk and the M5 is about two exchanges too short).  But for me, "The Ultimate Computer" feels like a return to form, one of the rare episodes of the second season that recaptured the essence of the first in feel, in technical proficiency, and coherence.

Four and a half stars.


Annoyingly Predictable


by Erica Frank

The M-5 is supposed to be able to run a ship normally crewed by four hundred with just 20 people. Of course, that turns out to be a lie, not because it can't, but because it doesn't bother with little details like, oh, following regulations, obeying the captain, and not killing people.

How the hell did this computer get approved for take-control-of-a-starship testing? And when Daystrom started to make excuses for it ("You don't shut off a child when it makes a mistake!"), why didn't Kirk immediately reply with, "You don't give a child command of a starship, either. And if a child grabs control of the family car and rams into another car – you don't let the child keep control. Shut this off NOW, or we'll start shooting our phasers into its circuit banks."

("But that would leave us floating dead in space!" he might answer. And Kirk could respond, "I'm sure someone will be along shortly to pick us up.")

Instead, Kirk lets it keep control long enough to kill over 60 people before getting Daystrom out of the way. Then he manages to use third-grade logic to get it to shut itself down: "What is the penalty for murder?" "Death." (Except we know otherwise – the only crime in the Federation with a death penalty was visiting Talos IV.) Unable to cope with the awareness that it violated its internal morality, it collapses.

…Where was that logic when it was shooting at the other ships? Why didn't the super-computer recognize the "laws of God and man" before it had broken them? Why didn't Kirk insist Daystrom talk it out of shooting before it had killed anyone? Shouldn't its logic work faster and more efficiently than a human's?

But we wouldn't get much story if the M5 had immediately recognized it was stuck between "defend myself" and "kill humans, whose protection is my purpose." So it couldn't notice that until the damage was done, its creator was unconscious, and Kirk was earnestly explaining exactly what it had done wrong.

As Snoopy might say: Bleah.

Just as dull as all the "psychic powers create sadistic manipulators" stories.

The acting was good. The story pacing was good. The explanations of the technology were good. Yet another "I liked everything but the plot" episode. Two stars.

Hey McCoy – got another Finagle's Folly lying around? I could use a drink.


"Here's to Erica, at least."





[March 12, 1968] Be Seeing You (The Prisoner)

The weekly news is up!  Please watch, enjoy, and mail in your comments to the station!



by Mx. Kris Vyas-Myall

Television and Films over the last few years have been littered with spies. Many of them have been forgettable but one was ahead of the pack: Danger Man.

Example image of Danger Man showing McGoohan as John Drake

Starring the brilliant Patrick McGoohan as John Drake, it took a more cynical and grounded look at the world of secret agents, compared with the more fantastical exploits of James Bond or John Steed.

We were meant to be getting a new series of Drake’s adventures, produced in full colour for the American market. Instead, we heard, he was concentrating on a new espionage series, The Prisoner. I had expected some cross between the former show and The Fugitive. What we got was quite different.

Shot of The Village where the residents are chess pieces on the board

After resigning, the un-named McGoohan is transported to a village. There he is assigned the Number Six and the authorities try to either probe him for information or get him to do their dirty work. So far this could have been an episode of Danger Man similar to "Colony Three". But there are much stranger elements.

Firstly, the whole village is not simply an island prison, it has the unnerving sense of enforced jollity. Which makes it more unnerving. I found myself reminded of the planet in Doctor Who’s Macra Terror, with both having that holiday camp feeling with dark tensions underneath.

Number Six goes down to the beach to look at another resident who has been dragged ashore by Rover.

Then, we have Rover, the Village’s loyal “Attack Bubble”. It should not be scary for a giant roaring soap sud to be scary, but the way that people are trapped within it, straining to get out makes for a terrifying image.

There is also the governance of The Village, where (in spite of a system of elections and councils) the power lays with “Number Two”, a figure who changes each week (or even multiple times in a week) with their own different experiments.

Number Six dressed as Sherlock Holmes on a fairground ride.
Just another day in the strange life of Number Six

As the series progresses it gets stranger in its plots. We have duplicate number sixes, dream journeys, trips to Old West, not to mention the world’s strangest martial arts. Over the seventeen episodes McGoohan moves us from a man trying to escape into the surreality we would more expect from The Corridor People or Do Not Adjust Your Set.

Number Six on the operating table with a probe pointed at his head.
You WILL enjoy The Prisoner

These offbeat choices may have put some people off but I enjoyed them, albeit with a couple of caveats. It would sometimes go too much into trying to be direct satire, rather that something more broad and nebulous, particularly in McGoohan’s directed episodes. These tended to work less well as it felt like to author was trying to pontificate to the audience and never gave a sense that this world had an existence outside of serving these points.

The other, is that, all these choices played against trying to give a solid finish to the story. For example, we are shown two characters and told that they both represent forms of rebellion. One we are not sure if we have seen before (the actor appeared previously but the character may be new) and the other only a couple of times in a position of authority. In a less experimental format I could see these challenges being overcome and a tighter solution put together.

A group of hooded and masked people dancing.
All the different factions celebrating the show.

However, as an experiment it is still one I enjoyed seeing and exploring the fascinating setup from McGoohan and co.

A high four stars



by Fiona Moore

Lots of people who tuned in to The Prisoner and watched to the end are, apparently, disappointed. Those people are missing the point. The Prisoner isn’t a spy series, or an sf series, or a metaphor… and yet, it is all of those things. The Village is a real place… and yet it’s also a state of mind, a cloying conformity that, as the series itself demonstrates, could be found in London or the Wild West as much as in Portmeirion, where the series was actually filmed. The point many critics are missing is, The Prisoner is first and foremost a Rorshach test.


Make of him what you will.

Even the most straightforward episode of The Prisoner can be interpreted through multiple lenses. Want to see it as a spy series, a kind of Manchurian Candidate with extra surreal elements? As a spoof of spy series, dialling the conceits of Danger Man or James Bond up to maximum so the viewer is confronted with how ridiculous they actually are? As a Jungian exploration of one man’s psyche, and how it crumbles under the strain of atomic-age paranoia? As a metaphor for childhood, and the way in which we go from complete dependence on our parents to adolescent rebellion to (one hopes) a more balanced adulthood? As a twisted, op-art version of the Tibetan afterlife, as the soul refuses the temptation to return to the Wheel of Samsara and eventually seeks peaceful oblivion in Nirvana? You can find all of those in there. But you’re also never going to find one interpretation that fits the series throughout, because that’s not what it’s all about.


Is this the real Village?

The fact that the series’ ending is chaotic and strange is, therefore, perfectly in keeping with that. You could see “Fall Out” as a commentary on rebellion, or on nuclear proliferation, or on the relationship of the id to the ego and the superego. You could also just sit back and let the imagery flow past you, and draw from it the meaning that personally speaks to you, that allows you to relate the series to your own life and the personal and political struggles you face in the turbulent and strange times we live in.


No, it doesn't have to make sense.

The point is not to over-interpret, or to seek a prescriptive meaning for the series. Does it always succeed? No. But does it fail? Only if you wanted a story with a nice neat ending, where The Prisoner is (definitely) John Drake and Number One is some bald-headed type in a Nehru suit stroking a fluffy cat. Otherwise, I’d say just turn on, tune in, and enjoy where the ride takes you.


The Prisoner and friends enjoying the ride.

Six..er..four out of five stars.







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[March 10, 1968] The Best Laid Plans (Doctor Who: The Web Of Fear [Part 2])


By Jessica Holmes

The latest serial of Doctor Who tempers the base-under-siege formula with an infusion of ‘whodunnit’, but is this a fresh take on the format or are the mystery elements just a red herring? Let’s take a look at the latter half of The Web Of Fear.

EPISODE FOUR

The episode kicks off with a Yeti attack, with the beast absconding with Professor Travers and leaving Anne unconscious on the floor.

Meanwhile, the Doctor and company pursue Chorley in the hopes of preventing him from getting to the TARDIS, but there’s no sign of him in the tunnels. In fact, thanks to the rapidly encroaching fungus it’s completely impossible to get to the TARDIS. Wherever Chorley is, he’s not there.

They return to the base to find the aftermath of Travers’ kidnapping, and the Doctor wonders why the Yeti didn’t just kill him. Unless, of course, the Great Intelligence needed him for something.

With the situation growing more dire by the minute, the Colonel decides to lead an expedition over the surface to reach the TARDIS, load it onto a trolley, and send it back through the tunnels.

It does not go well.

The below-ground half of the mission immediately goes down the drain, with two men (Staff Sgt. Arnolds [Jack Woolgar] and another bloke whose name I failed to write down) dying in the attempt to send a trolley through a web-infested tunnel.

As for the surface, it’s a total bloodbath. Well, web-bath. The Colonel takes a couple dozen men up there, and a few action-packed scenes later, he’s the only one to make it back alive, empty-handed.

Meanwhile, the Doctor and Anne get to work on trying to find a way to control the Yeti. However, two of the Yeti control figurines go missing, and the Doctor works out that the Yeti are using them as homing devices.

What’s more, the Doctor collected a sample of the fungus earlier, but it seems to have mysteriously vanished—and the last person who laid hands on it was Evans.

Needing additional supplies in order to build a remote control for the Yeti-sphere, the Doctor persuades the Colonel’s subordinate, Captain Knight, to accompany him to the surface so he can pop to the shops.

This also does not go well.

As it turns out, Knight (unbeknownst to him) has one of the missing Yeti figurines, and the monsters find the pair in a matter of minutes. Knight is no match for a couple of Yeti, and promptly gets himself killed. The Doctor only survives because (I can only guess) the Great Intelligence calls them off at the last second. It seems the Great Intelligence’s plans for the Doctor are a little more sophisticated than simple murder.

The Colonel stumbles back to the base not long after the Doctor, and finds that he has the other missing figurine in his pocket. No wonder the surface mission went so badly.

The Doctor realises that the Yeti could be still homing in on the Colonel as they speak, but before the Colonel can destroy the figurine, the door bursts open.

In walk a pair of Yeti…and who should be with them but Professor Travers?

That’s an excellent twist, and had me eagerly anticipating the next episode.

EPISODE FIVE

I have good news and bad news. The good news is that Travers hasn’t suddenly turned out to be a secret evil mastermind. The bad news is that he’s being possessed by the Great Intelligence.

And the Great Intelligence has plans for the Doctor. It’s not particularly cross about the Doctor defeating it in Tibet. However, the Doctor caught his attention there, and the Great Intelligence is fascinated by the Doctor’s mind. So fascinated, it wants it for its own.

The process of stealing his mind won’t kill the Doctor, but it will more or less turn his brain into soup, and who knows what the GI might be getting up to while the Doctor is re-learning how to stand on two feet and eat solid food.

While the Doctor mulls over whether or not to give himself up, the Intelligence takes Victoria captive. Poor girl needs to take some self-defence lessons. She must be sick of being used as a bargaining chip every week.

As tempting as the offer is, the Doctor would rather take an option that doesn’t involve everyone being killed or his mind turning into mush.

While he works with Anne to try and get the control unit working, Jamie and the Colonel sneak out of the base to try and find where the Yeti have taken Victoria and Travers.

Evans puts his brain cell to work investigating the potential mole situation, and comes to the conclusion that it must be Jamie or the Colonel. And what does he do with this information? Holds them at gunpoint then crumples like a wet paper bag when the pair more or less roll their eyes and walk away. I can like a character who is smart but not brave. I can like a character who is brave but not smart. I have great difficulty liking a character who is neither.

Elsewhere in the Underground, the Intelligence is nice enough to let Travers have his mind back for the time being and Victoria catches him up on what he’s missed. He also discovers that Staff Sgt. Arnold still lives, and sends him to bring word of their location back to the Doctor. You may wonder why he doesn’t just go with him, but apparently the Yeti would notice. I mean, the Yeti didn’t notice him carrying on a full conversation with a third party, so maybe he needn’t have worried.

And if they did notice, so what? It’s not as if they can run very fast.

The Doctor and Anne manage to get their control sphere working, as well as a couple of remote controls, one of them voice activated. They find themselves a lone Yeti and swap out its control sphere for their own. Nice, now they can use the Intelligence’s own weapon against it!

However, they’re running out of time. The Intelligence gave the Doctor twenty minutes to hand himself over…but the fungus isn’t as patient.

EPISODE SIX

The Doctor and Anne, reasoning that they don’t know who they can trust, decide to conceal their feat of controlling a Yeti, and send theirs away. They’ll use it when the time is right. They reunite with the rest of the group, surprised to find that Arnold is alive. Everyone’s here except Evans, and that’s pretty dangerous if one of you is in league with the Intelligence. Sure enough, the Yeti surround them moments later.

Now would be a good time for Evans to find his courage and mount a rescue, but he has a Slinky where his spine should be. His cowardice doesn’t save him from being captured, however.

With some help from the Colonel, Arnold slips away from the Yeti as the group travel to the Intelligence’s base in hopes of finding help. Along the way, he discovers another unexpected survivor—the irritating journalist, Chorley.

The Doctor tells Jamie about his plan to control the Yeti, though he does have a little problem: he’s not sure which Yeti is his. Jamie will just have to get lucky. Failing that, he’ll have to run really fast, because he’s going to slip away from the group and try and find that Yeti.

These Yeti aren’t very observant, are they? Can’t even do a headcount before moving on to the next location.

They take the Doctor a little ahead of the group, which handily gives him the opportunity to freeze the Yeti escorting him and tamper with the device that will be used to scoop his brain out. And, for plot reasons, to avoid anyone else finding this out.

As for Jamie’s attempt to find the Doctor’s Yeti, it doesn’t go well. And he doesn’t even get a chance to run away.

It looks like the Doctor is going to lose his mind.

With everyone gathered in the Intelligence’s base, we finally find out who the mole is, courtesy of Chorley. It’s not him. It’s Arnold.

Who ever would have guessed?

Me. Actually no, I tell a lie. Before Arnold turned up alive I was half expecting it to be Anne.

…It made sense in my head. I’m a Holmes but not a Sherlock.

Much to Jamie’s consternation, the Doctor willingly puts on a silly hat (or mind-stealing helmet, potato po-tah-to) and sits inside the Intelligence’s device. It looks like a glass pyramid. The Intelligence likes its pyramids, doesn’t it?

What happens next illustrates the importance of communication. The Doctor has a plan, you see. He’s tinkered with the mind-stealing device so that rather than losing his mind, the process will be reversed, stealing the Intelligence’s mind and neutralising it for good.

But Jamie, suddenly faced with the responsibility of raising a 400-year-old baby, doesn’t know that, and panics. He still has the voice control device, so he yells into it, hoping that one of the many Yeti gathered in the room will obey him.

As luck would have it, one does. And as much as the Doctor tries to resist being rescued, eventually Jamie drags him out of the pyramid. Said pyramid then short-circuits and explodes, leaving the Intelligence without a connection to Earth, and the Doctor very put out.

Well, at least the Intelligence is gone…for now. And his puppet, Arnold, is dead. He seems to have been deep fried, but the Doctor suspects he’s been dead for quite some time; likely since before he even arrived.

How grim.

The Doctor makes an abrupt departure as Chorley starts to take an interest in him, promptly getting himself and his companions lost in the now fungus-free tunnels. They’d better work out where the TARDIS is soon…or the trains might beat them to it!

Final Thoughts

So, that was The Web Of Fear. It’s a good solid serial, well-paced with a decent cast of characters. That said, some of the characters were definitely more fun to watch than others.

Most of the soldiers were completely uninteresting which doesn’t really matter because they were more or less Yeti-fodder. Still, I might have cared a bit more whenever any of them died if any of them had much personality. Evans and Chorley are both too irritating for their own good, and I was actually hoping they’d end up on the wrong end of a Yeti, but alas we can’t always get what we want.

Anne’s great though, I hope she pops up again, like her father. The Colonel was pretty cool too, I like his ‘get stuff done’ attitude. I wouldn’t mind seeing him again.

As for the Intelligence, I have a thought or two. It’s got no body, could be thousands of years old, can control people’s minds, and we don’t know where he came from. And yet I don’t think it’s scary enough. The Yeti are just too cuddly for me to take them, and by extension the Intelligence, as a serious threat. Maybe the Intelligence should start a cult, get itself some servants that aren’t eminently huggable.

The mystery made an otherwise quite standard plot a little more interesting, though I’m not sure Arnold being the mole is a particularly satisfying conclusion. He’s not much of a character. In fact, I didn’t think to mention him when covering the first half of this serial because he was such a non-entity. He wasn’t even nefarious, no motivation of his own, just a meat puppet for the Intelligence. That’s just not as much fun as a willing accomplice.

Assuming the trio don’t get splatted by a train, I look forward to seeing what adventures are in store next time on Doctor Who.




[March 8, 1968] Inglorious (Star Trek: "The Omega Glory")


by Gideon Marcus

Last year, Star Trek creator Gene Roddenberry won science fiction's highest award, the Hugo, for writing the two-part episode "The Menagerie".  It was a deserved laurel.  After all, he not only had written the excellent pilot that formed the germ of the double-show, but also made a reasonably interesting extension to fit the new format.

Unfortunately, Roddenberry has yet to reach that high water mark again.  Despite having plenty of screenwriting experience, he seems to only have had that one good story in him.  First, there was his disappointing adaptation of "A Private Little War", originally by Jud Crucis (that's got to be a kind of Cordwainer Bird).  And now, we have his worst outing yet–"The Omega Glory":

The setup should be interesting.  Kirk, Spock, McCoy, and the red-shirted Lieutenant GAWLway beam aboard the abandoned but undamaged starship Exeter in orbit around an uncharted planet.  Everyone onboard has been reduced to crystals–sort of a reverse "Man Trap" phenomenon.  This seems shocking to Kirk and co. despite having seen a very similar phenomenon just last episode.  Obeying the exhortations of a tape by the mortally ill Exec of the Exteter (who, like Spock, is apparently a double-duty officer), they beam down to the planet.


"Save yourselves!  Go down to the planet!  I dunno why we don't, but you go ahead!"

There, they meet Captain Ron Tracey, the second active-duty Starfleet captain we've seen other than Kirk (we met four others in "Court Martial", at least one of whom had graduated to Starbase running).  According to Tracey, the planet confers immunity to the disease that killed his entire crew when the rest of the landing party beamed back aboard.  Also, the planet somehow makes all the inhabitants live life spans measured in millennia.

In the six months since Tracey beamed down, he teamed up with the 'Coms', "yellow" city-dwellers under siege by the savage "white" people.  Flagrantly violating the Prime Directive, more explicitly spelled out here than in any episode prior, he exhausted his hand phaser defending the village.


"We drained four of our phasers, and they still came. We killed thousands and they still came."

Now that Kirk is here, Tracey wants to go into the immortality bottling business, distilling the essence of the anti-disease and anti-aging qualities of the planet.

Except, as Bones soon figures out, there is no such thing.  The immunity is a natural (and permanent) phenomenon, and the natives live a long time because of freak genetics resulting from the near-total bacteriological catastrophe that wiped out civilization centuries before.

That's one thread of the episode.  The other involves finding out that this is a parallel Earth, like "Miri", and the 'Yangs' are the descendants of Americans (white ones, of course), adopting the ways of the Indians in order to survive, but carrying a corrupted tradition of Founding Father document worship.  Thus, they mangle the Pledge of Allegiance and the Constitution's preamble without understanding.  Luckily, Kirk is an avid historian, and he explains what these holy words really mean.  He also insists that the Coms (what's left of them–it appears the Yangs have killed nearly all of them by the end) are people too, and they need to be treated with the dignity and equality prescribed by our nation's most central document.


"This document is absolutely perfect as is.  It's a good thing you never made any changes to it."

And then they beam back to the Enterprise.  Happy endings for everyone.

Except the audience, of course.

So much about this show doesn't make sense, from the lack of children, to the paucity of population centers, to the way genetics and natural immunity works on the planet.  I won't even touch the racial aspects of the episode, which my colleagues are champing at the bit to address.

I will say that I am utterly confused by Captain Tracey's actions.  We've been led to believe that Starship captains are a breed apart.  Sure, Commodore Decker had his issues, but they were understandable given his situation.  But Tracey?  As soon as his crew fell ill and he didn't, you'd think he'd have beamed at least some of his people down.  And certainly he'd hold sacred the highest of orders (though not the one that violation incurs the death penalty.  That's number four.) Instead, he lets his crew die, doesn't warn Star Fleet of his situation, and becomes a little dictator.


"Crew?  What crew?"

The only thing that could possibly explain the situation is that "Ron Tracey" is actually Dr. Simon van Gelder, escaped from Tantalus without being cured, somehow assuming Captain Tracey's guise and stealing the "Exeter".  Outlandish?  Sure, but no more than this episode.


"I'm the real Captain Tracey!"

Two stars.  Why two?  Because I actually kind of dug how the show went back to the parallel Earth thing and didn't just abandon it for one episode.  Of course, they didn't do very much good with it…


When Worse Comes to Worst


by Janice L. Newman

We’ve had the best of episodes, we’ve had the worst of episodes. But never have I watched an episode so infuriating as “The Omega Glory”.

Like last week’s By Any Other Name, the story starts out promising. We’re swept up in the mystery and the danger to the senior officers we’ve come to know and love. And like “By Any Other Name”, it seems that “The Omega Glory” is prepared to play against expectations. On the planet Omega, the white people are violent and savage, while the non-white people (in this case apparently of Asian extraction) are peaceful and good. What a switch!

Just kidding! It turns out that the white people are the good guys after all. They’ll be setting up a democratic government any day now, and they’ll even let those no-good commies in…as long as the commies are okay with living under their system.


"I am Cloud McCarthy, and this is Wise Dicknixon.  We promise equality and fairness for the Coms."

I described Patterns of Force as “subtle as a brick”, but this episode went beyond that. The pro-democracy message was as direct and painful as a bludgeon to the face. It was all the more insulting in the way the white “yangs” (“Yankees”, GET IT?) started out as savage, violent, unwilling to parley or compromise, yet were still painted as the triumphant good guys in the end, for no other reason than that they were descendents of a Christian nation with an American democratic system (despite literally having no understanding of the very documents and principles they revered).

One grudging star, only because I can’t give it zero.


Losers Keepers


by Joe Reid

I recently saw a preview at the theater for the upcoming Planet of the Apes movie (based on the book) starring Charlton Heston. It's a flick about a world where cavemen-like humans in rags are dumb beasts and mistreated by the intelligent thinking and talking apes. 

Much like this week's episode, which featured wild men dressed in rags that appeared to be unable to speak and behaved like beasts.  A couple of months back we had the “Gamesters of Triskelion", which featured a Master Thrall Galt who shared the look of Ming the Merciless from “Flash Gordon”.  In fact it was that same episode that had me complaining about the amount of borrowing or sometimes outright theft that Star Trek employs in its stories.

If imitation is the best form of flattery, Star Trek is the Casanova of Burbank, California!  The number of its paramours have surely become legion.  Much like the erstwhile lover of legend, Star Trek is never able to focus on attaching to one thing at a time.  Episodes must borrow from multiple sources.  Even from other episodes of Star Trek.  For example, just last week we saw an episode where the powerful Kelvans turned members of the crew into white minerals.  This week a disease did it.  Two weeks ago the Nazis from Earth history showed up on another planet.  This week the US flag and constitution showed up, for no reason other than to attempt to throw a twist at the audience.  Both of these last two examples make me feel as if I am watching an episode of the Twilight Zone instead of Star Trek.  So many episodes of that show introduce elements into settings where they should not exist.  When it happened in the Twilight Zone it was thought provoking.  When it keeps happening in Star Trek, it lacks the same effect and is starting to leave me pining for repeats of the episodes that have more original stories.


"A man…can't just…turntosalt!"  "Captain, need I remind you what happened just last episode?"

I’d love for new episodes to stop with the borrowed elements and stick to bold new content, not plucked from the theaters, or the current newspaper headlines, or popular Earth characters like Jack the Ripper. 

Although the recent “Patterns of Force” was not an episode that I loved, I do love the fact that it was original and not an obvious rip-off from something else.  “The Omega Glory” could have been more glorious had its elements not been entirely borrowed.  That's only one of its sins, of course, but it'd be a start.

1 star


Beyond the Pale


by Amber Dubin

I want to preface myself by saying I am whole-heartedly enraptured with Star Trek. It is my first and only love, the only fictional universe I'd gladly abandon my own life to walk one day in its storyline, and I'd defend the continuation of this show to the death and beyond. I feel the need to profess my undying loyalty as a fan of this series, because I am about to unleash a diatribe that could only be wrought by the betrayal of an immeasurable love. This episode made me apoplectic. I've had my hackles raised from some insulting implications about the nature of women or certain races, but so far most of my reactions have been to subtleties. Subtle this episode was not.

The least subtle attack on my sensibilities was the racism. The Yangs are introduced as inhuman savages that cannot be reasoned with when they are first encountered. However, it turns out that they are not feral, merely driven wild by religious fervor. The supertext is that the Yangs' nature is that of Native Americans (what we have ignorantly called, for centuries, 'Indians'). I cannot begin to describe how offensive this concept is. Gene Roddenberry is saying here that Native Americans as a race are naturally a savage subspecies of whites, but they, like the fictional Vulcans, have trained to control their natures through a spirituality reverential governmental system. The fundamental insult lies in the implication that the government of whites partially tamed their savage nature (only partially, because the whole time sacred ceremonies take place, the majority of the tribe is outside yipping and howling at the moon). I hate that I have to explain this, but in reality, Native Americans have had democratic systems in place before most white societies that the white founding fathers actually drew from when they were drafting their governmental systems. In addition, the role of spirituality in most ancient Native American tribes was not a controlling cult-like obsession as could be argued is displayed by many modern organized religions, and was instead a much subtler, reverential guiding force that soothed the more offensive natural human instincts like a balm rather than a set of shackles.


"What do you mean 'they're too white?'  What do you think this is?  High Chapparal?"

Unfortunately the racial attacks in this episode are not only leveled at the Native American peoples. When it comes to the Comms, although it is implied that their genetics/immunological resistance is superior to humans, they are also implied to be inferior to the white race. This is apparent in the way that they immediately recognize Ron Tracey as their leader, after "getting over the shock of [his] white skin." This is offensive not only in the way it implies innate white supremacy, but also in the way they imply that it is natural for "asiatic races" to choose innately flawed governmental systems (godless totalitarianism and communism – for shame!) over the morally upright white, democratic Republicans. They even managed to throw in fetishization of female Asians just because this steaming pile of an episode needed a little sexism for spice.

And the science! My God, the poor, poor science! I'm too angry to even go into how terribly this episode mangled the concepts of genetic and cultural evolution. It didn't even have the most basic understanding of immunology and epidemiology! The fact that any of the plot of this episode made it off the cutting room floor goes beyond the pale of my tolerance and understanding. To say I am deeply disappointed in Gene Roddenberry is an understatement of the highest degree.

I wish I could give it less than one star, but I, like the actors in these scenes, am contractually bound by the system in which I work.

One star



Speaking of Star Trek, it's on tomorrow!  And it seems to presage a civil war…

Here's the invitation! Come join us.




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[March 6, 1968] Trend-setter (April 1968 Galaxy)


by Gideon Marcus

Back in the saddle again

It's been a long time since the halcyon days of the early '50s, when Galaxy was setting the standard to beat, ushering in the Silver Age of Science Fiction (along with the more avante garde F&SF).  But now that editor Fred Pohl has collapsed his empire to just two mags, it seems he can afford to be more picky.  Indeed, IF is unusually good this month, and the April 1968 issue of Galaxy is by far the best I've read in a long time, and a strong contender for best magazine of March.


by Gray Morrow

Brave new worlds

Goblin Reservation (Part 1 of 2), by Clifford D. Simak

Simak is back with a odd brew of a story, perhaps in the same universe as Here Gather the Stars, as reference is made to a Wisconsin transit station.  Eschewing (for the most part) his usual pastoral motif, instead we get the first installment of the book-length adventure of Peter Maxwell, professor at the Time University in North America.  At least he was.  It seems that, while on the way to do fieldwork on the planet of Coonskin, Maxwell was duplicated.  One of him went on to his intended task.  The other ended up on a crystalline, roofed-over planet.  This world is some 50 billion years old, its inhabitants little more than ghosts, and they possess the knowledge of two universes since they lived through the last cosmological crunch and survived the most recent "Big Bang".

This latter Maxwell is the one we follow, since the other one died in a traffic accident upon arriving home.  Now, Maxwell is officially dead, out of work, and at loose ends.  Add to that there seems to be conspiracies, both human and alien, to get the secrets of the crystal planet from him, and things get very hot indeed.

That would be a twisty enough tale in and of itself.  Throw in the existence of fairies and ghosts (they've been around all along, but now they're acknowledged creatures who live on reservations) as well as working time travel (one of the main characters is Alley Oop, a brilliant Neanderthal), and things are complicated to the extreme!


by Gray Morrow

And yet, somehow Simak makes it all work.  It's an unusually humorous story, though the Morrow illustrations are perhaps too comic, and I tore through the half novel in short order.

I am looking forward to seeing where this all goes.  Four stars.

The Riches of Embarrassment, by H. L. Gold

Why does Miss McGiveney always seem to happen upon her neighbors at the most embarrassing moments?  It may just be her superpower.

This slight tale in particular feels like vintage Galaxy, perhaps because it's written by the magazine's first editor.  I hope Fred Pohl edited the story savagely…what's good for the goose is good for the gander.

Three stars.

Brain Drain, by Joseph P. Martino


by Dan Adkins

Tom Harrison, a field agent of Intelligence Imports Incorporated, is in Thailand searching for a particular kind of student, and he thinks he has his target in high school graduate Manob Suravit.  It turns out that Triple-I is on the hunt for brilliant PhD candidates, and apparently there aren't enough in America (and/or perhaps there is value in recruiting from beyond our shores).

At first, I thought it would turn out Harrison was looking for folks with psi powers–I was glad to find the object of his search was more mundane.  Most of the story is excellent, redolent with such authentic color that I have to think Martino has spent time in Thailand.

The problem is the ending, where Harrison convinces the local schoolmaster to be happy about the loss of promising students.  Not so much the reasoning, but the near-polemic way the reasoning is delivered.  What could be a thoughtful piece, with shades of gray woven in (as the story appeared to promise earlier on) becomes something more suited for Analog.  Along the lines of "Hey, sure we take your smart kids, but you weren't using them, and you've still got plenty."

A missed opportunity.  Three stars.

Sword Game, by H. H. Hollis

A bored middle-aged topologist and a grubby would-be Gypsy team up with their tessaract-based circus show.  Said mathematician shoves his partner into a cylinder of fuzzy time and space and stabs her vividly, but harmlessly, with a sword while the audience marvels.

But said topologist bores of this, too, and the result is truly macabre (though ultimately happy).

Three stars, but I could see someone going to four.

For Your Information: The Devil's Apples, by Willy Ley

Willy Ley offers up a short, but interesting piece on potatoes.  Not much to say, really.  Three stars.

Touch of the Moon, by Ross Rocklynne


by Dan Adkins

What an odd piece this is, about a romance broken when one of the partners goes to the moon.  Gravity has an irrevocable effect not only on the body, but also the psyche.  But happily, loosing one's ties to Earth is ultimately good for the species if it ever wants to claim the stars.

This could have been a good story, but it's written far too amateurishly and with too implausible a premise.  The former is surprising given that Rocklynne dates back to the Golden Age.  On the other hand, I haven't seen hide nor hair of him since I began reading SF regularly (1954), so perhaps he's out of practice.

Two stars.

The Deceivers, by Larry Niven


by Jack Gaughan

Our old pal Lucas Garner is back, this time with a shaggy dog story about the first fully automated restaurant that opened in 2025.

Niven has a real knack for creating whole worlds with a few strokes.  He also joins multiple time periods with ease: Lucas Garner was born in 1939, so he is our contemporary.  He lives in the 2100s, and he reminisces about the 2000s.  Thus, his stories have touches of the futuristic as well as the familiar.

Four stars.

Galaxy Bookshelf, by Algis Budrys

I don't often comment on Algis Budrys' column, but this time, he has some important things to say…and a friend named Brian Collins (who has his own commendable 'zine) did an excellent job of summing it up while adding his own observations:

Algis Budrys dedicates the whole review column to Dangerous Visions, giving us a review I'd say is about 1,500 to 2,000 words long. Budrys has shown us before that he's one of the more "literate" people in the field, but he has a unique challenge with Dangerous Visions, a book he both highly recommends but is highly mixed on as far as its content goes.

He argues pretty well as to why this is a major work in the field and why you should get yourself a copy, despite a lot of the stories therein not holding up to scrutiny. It helps that he and I mostly agree on what works and what doesn't (I'm admittedly one of the few people who liked the Farmer), and it pleases me in a morbid way to find that I'm not the only one who was incredibly disappointed by the Sturgeon. But Budrys notes that while the bloated pseudo-lecture from Sturgeon is a failure, and far under Sturgeon's caliber, it works as a sort of counter-piece to the Emshwiller, which, as Budrys says, feels more like a classic Sturgeon story than the Sturgeon we got. Taken together, these two contribute immensely to a narrative that Harlan Ellison is trying to put forth with the book.

Will Dangerous Visions kick off a new movement in SF? No. We had already seen stuff published in F&SF and New Worlds that would have made fine contributions to Dangerous Visions. This book does not present a brave new world like Ellison claims, but rather as Budrys argues it serves as an essential reminder that change is inevitable and that the field has been changing and will continue to change. No doubt 50 years from now Dangerous Visions will be remembered for the best stories between its covers, but also as a historical artifact—a portrait of a genre in the midst of change, and change is often violent and unpretty.

The World and Thorinn, by Damon Knight


by Jack Gaughan

Finally, Damon Knight begins what looks like the first part of serial in all but name.  Thorinn is a human raised by trolls in a primitive, Scandinavianesque, not-quite-fantasy world.  When calamity befalls his family, they throw him down a well to appease the god Snorri.  Thus begins the first of Thorinn's subterranean adventures.

The first few pages are a bit slow, particularly when scenes are repeated from two different viewpoints (I really dislike that style), but the rest makes for an excellent puzzle story, written in a fine, almost Vancean style.

Four stars, and the anticipated book may rate higher.

The Other Show

Between the Simak and the Knight (both fantasy-tinged pieces), we have a couple of open promises.  We also have something of a new style: there's a lot more sex in this issue than I've seen recently in Galaxy.  Is Pohl taking a page from F&SF's book?  Or has the New Wave simply caught up to the Guinn publishing enterprise?

Either way, I like it.  More, please!



Don't miss the news — a new episode of KGJ's weekly round-up is being broadcast right now!



[March 4, 1968] Everything Old is New Again (New Writings in SF-12 & Famous Science Fiction Issues #4-6)


by Mx. Kris Vyas-Myall

Lady Penelope Magazine cover

Overlooked by many, my favourite comic book right now is Lady Penelope, TV21’s magazine for girls. Between the great stories of Spectrum’s Angels, Bewitched and (surprisingly) Crossroads, they have delightful pop culture articles.

Album Covers from Jefferson Airplane, Kaleidoscope and The Rascals
Three recent psychedelic albums whose art evokes the past

In a recent piece they pointed out how current culture seems to be drawing from pre-war sources, whether that be in fashion, where people are seemingly emulating the flappers of Thoroughly Modern Millie and the military outfits of Khartoum, music, with music hall and ragtime mixing with psychedelia, or television, with the success of The Forsyte Saga and The World of Wooster.

As such, the line between current and past styles is becoming more blurred, something reflected in this article’s selection of fiction:

New Writings in SF-12

New Writings in SF 12 Cover

In his foreword, Carnell muses on how changes in SF style seem to follow the sunspot cycle and happen differently on both sides of the Atlantic. He states that Harrison here represents the Ballardian inner-space type of story, Kapp representing the Vancian “medieval futurism”, Rome and Sellings could only be told in the current style, whilst White and Rankine are more traditional.

Vertigo by James White

We start with a return to White’s “Sector General”, where the crew of Descartes conduct an exploratory mission to a soupy planet nicknamed “Meatball”, where they discover a tool that psychically responds to the user's needs. Soon the native species makes a first attempt at spaceflight and Descartes’ crew attempts a rescue.

This is the kind of high quality I have come to expect from these tales. Strong character work, fascinating depiction of alien life and well-paced action. White knows what he does and does it well.

Four Stars

Visions of Monad by M. John Harrison

Bailey is a poet who became disillusioned with life. He consented to spend two weeks in a sensory deprivation tank and now spends his time with Monad, his beatnik artist lover, in a hedonistic haze, struggling to connect with reality.

This is more Moorcock New Worlds than Carnell’s, very hip and New Wavey. One with marginal SF content (SD experiments featuring in thrillers such as The Mind Benders) but very well told and evocative.

Four Stars

Worm in the Bud by John Rankine

Commander Dag Fletcher is sent to retrieve Peter Quinn, an IGO diplomat who has tried to ensure peace is maintained with the insectoid Chrysaorties. However, the planet is inhospitable, the takeoff is delayed, and Fletcher senses the aliens cannot be trusted…

As you may recall, I am not a fan of these stories, and I continued to dislike both the content and the style of this piece.

One Star

They Shall Reap by David Rome

The welcome return of one of Carnell’s better writers (and a contributor to the Journey), last seen at the end of ’64.

This one is Twilight Zone-esque, where Adam and Eve and their two children move into the Rich Valley Development, a seemingly utopian farming community where no effort is needed to make the crops grow. But is it all too good to be true?

These kind of sinister conformist community tales are fairly common but this is an effective example.

Three Stars

The Last Time Around by Arthur Sellings

In the future a few specialist pilots are needed to fly D.C.P. (Direct Continuum Propulsion) ships to explore new planets, but the time dilation effect means the crew comes back many years later. This follows Grant’s attempts to adjust to Earth after these trips away.

This is a very slow story but a clever one to explore changes in society and how love could work for a time traveler, with a morally ambiguous ending.

A high four stars

The Cloudbuilders by Colin Kapp

This novella tells of a future where gas balloons are the main form of transport. Guild Journeyman Jacobi comes to Catenor to help with the construction of hydrogen ships, whilst dealing with Cloud Pirate raids.

I have not much liked Kapp’s “Unorthodox Engineer” tales but this is an improvement in both style and content. The main issue is it is too long because Kapp over describes everything. It makes what could have been a marvellous short, a touch flabby.

Three stars


So a good selection in New Writings, but how will Famous fare? One positive point to start with is that I don’t believe any of these stories have been reprinted since first publication. As to the quality? Read on:


Famous #4

Famous #4 Cover
Illustration by Virgil Finlay, unknown source

Standards in Science Fiction – Science Fiction as Delight

Lowdnes uses his editorials across all three issues to look in depth at what makes good science fiction enjoyable. Well worth a glance.

The Man Who Awoke: 2. Master of the Brain by Laurence Manning

The Master Brain under attack
Illustration by Frank R. Paul

Continuing the 1933 serial, Norman Winters now awakes in 10,000 AD. Here he finds a society governed by a computer called the Brain. People live in cities under its direction, doing a small amount of work according to their rank and then spend the rest of their time in leisure facilities. However, the brain may no longer need humans at all, and Winters agrees to aid rebels in freeing themselves from its control.

This very much feels like a product of the time, combining together elements of The Machine Stops and Brave New World into an adventure tale. What it lacks in originality though, it makes up for in style and characterization.

Four Stars

… Do Not Fold or Mutilate … by William M. Danner

A new piece by a writer I am unfamiliar with. Danner tells of a man in an overcrowded society trying to deal with a change to his assistance card.

Whilst the atmosphere conjures up Make Room! Make Room! the actual tale is a standard one of failing bureaucracy like we have read many times before.

A low three stars

The Last Shrine by Chester D. Cuthbert

In Mexico lies the mysterious Valley of Peace, our narrator goes in to discover the truth behind the legends and meets a mysterious native tribe.

Originally from the same issue as Voice of Atlantis, these kind of “lost race” stories were already old fashioned in the 30s and the addition of strange science and dreams doesn’t do much to aid it.

Two Stars

The Times We Had by Edward D. Hoch

The other new fiction is from a long-time horror writer and regular contributor to Lowdnes’ other magazines. In a change to Hoch’s usual style, this involves Turkmen’s return to his family after a year on the moon and recounting his life there.

A lovely slice of life piece with a great twist in the tail.

Four Stars

Master of the Octopus by Edward Olin Weeks

Going back to the 19th Century, Weeks’ story comes from Pearson’s Magazine in 1899. This reprint has an introduction by Sam Moskowitz on how it fits into the history of lighting.

The Consolidated Lighting Company of America has become so powerful and successful it has been nicknamed The Octopus and its president seen as possibly the smartest man on the planet. However, when an inventor brings him a perpetual light with no need of external energy, he may have met his match.

This seems to me to be a satire of Thomas Edison and General Electric. And, even though it starts bright, it ends dimly.

A low three stars

The City of Spiders by H. Warner Munn

This final novelette comes from the early days of Weird Tales, in 1926. Our narrator relates the tale of Jabez Pentreat, an etymologist who travels into the jungles of Venezuela, finding a stone city overrun with spiders and ruled over by a giant telepathic Spider King.

Whilst Munn does a good job of showing an alien kind of intelligence (the influence of Lovecraft is clear) I found myself more in mind of giant insect B-Movies, and the treatment of the South American natives left a bad taste in my mouth.

Two Stars

Ratings for Famous #2 & 3, The Moon Menace winning for #2 and The Man Who Awoke & The Last American winning for  #3.
For issues 2 and 3, it seems the older the story, the more well liked it is.

Famous #5

Famous #5 Cover
Illustration by Frank R. Paul, originally from Wonder Stories – May 1933 illustrating Gulliver 3000 AD by Leslie F Stone

The Pygmy Planet by Jack Williamson

The Pygmy Planet in the x-ray beam as a small plane flies towards it.
Illustration by H. W. Wesso

Dr. Whiting, to test evolution, creates a miniature planet in his laboratory using x-rays. The planet (as smaller objects experience time at high speed) has advanced to such a stage the creatures on it have been able to kidnap Whiting and bring him down. His lab assistant Agnes summons her friend Larry for help. When a machine-monster from the planet also grabs Agnes, Larry must shrink himself down and rescue them both.

A Machin-Monster leaves the planet to menace Agnes and Larry.
Illustration by Frank R. Paul

Reprinted from 1932’s Astounding, I cannot help thinking readers at the time would have found the entire tale just as silly as I did. And whilst it is better told than Cummings' similar story a few issues ago, it is very oddly paced with the adventure section feeling far too short and the ending being a poor one.

Two Stars

Destroyers by Greg D. Bear

Not just new fiction but a new writer to the scene, which is always good to see. In the future he describes, some people are licensed to be “destroyers” if they have a reason for their hatred. A writer interviews several contradictory destroyers to ascertain their motives.

A very silly satire but Bear’s style shows promise.

A higher two stars

The Man Who Awoke: 3. The City of Sleep by Laurence Manning

Winters, surrounded by scientists, investigates a man attached to a machine.
Illustration by Frank R. Paul

We continue Norman Winters' journeys into the future. In this millennium the world has seen a big increase in temperature and the population of America are all black. More and more people are entering into a computer-generated fantasy world where all their wishes can be fulfilled. However, this is creating a crisis, as soon there will be too few people left outside to maintain the machines or to reproduce.

Of all the societies Manning has shown us, I find this one the most fascinating so far. Whereas the prior installment felt distinctly of the period, this could easily have been produced today by Philip K. Dick. It continues to ask great questions about our future, balancing the good and bad of possibilities.

Five Stars

Echo by William F. Temple

We come now to a new tale by an old hand. This is an unusual spy story, where the Saurian Venusians have taken over the body of Richard Gaunt by use of a temporary echo of the personality of Narvel. They intend to steal the secrets of Organic Materials Inc., however, it turns out that being a human is harder than it seems.

Whilst it is a more original take on the genre, I found it confusing and unpleasant.

A low two stars

Plane People by Wallace West

Astronomers observe the two dimensional comet.
Illustration by Paul Orban

Finally, we have the return of Wallace West with this piece from Astounding November 1933. Whilst studying a two dimensional comet, astronomer Adolph Strauss, his son Frank, Frank’s girlfriend Marie and clerk Bert Wheeler, find themselves transported on to it. There they discover an entire civilization of flat people.

The group are surrounded by the flat Plane People
Illustration by Paul Orban

This is a combination of Off on a Comet, Flatland and A Princess of Mars without managing to be anywhere near as interesting as any of them. I found the whole experience silly and dull. Add to that the unpleasant writing of Marie throughout, it is incredibly weak.

One Star

Rankings for Famous #5, with The City of Spider winning.
Once more showing my opinions are at odds with the average Famous reader.

Famous #6

Famous #5 Cover
Illustration by Frank R. Paul, illustrating The Individualists for the original 1933 Wonder Stories publication

The Hell Planet by Leslie F. Stone

Illlustration for Hell Planet with the crew surrounded by Vulcanites
Illustration by Frank R. Paul

The crew of the Adventure travel to the (much hypothesized at the time, 1932) planet Vulcan, close to the sun. They are in search of Cosmicite, a rare metal which can act as a near perfect insulator. However, Vulcan is dangerous to human life and the Vulcanites may not be keen to part with it.

Stone does a great deal of work to make the Vulcanites another civilization and not merely generic tribespeople. And although the work does contain some cliches of the period, it ends up being smarter than I expected.

Four Stars

The Dragon-Kings by L. Sprague de Camp

The first poem for Famous, from the current laureate of F&SF, apparently being an ode to dinosaurs. I can’t help think it may have been rejected by his usual venue for being very poor fare.

One Star

The Individualists by Laurence Manning

Individualists image showing Winters hiding from a walking city.
Full version of cover illustration

In the fourth installment of The Man Who Awoke series, Winters now awakes in 20,000 AD where he finds a world full of cities that move around like Wells’ Martian Tripods and battle each other, but inside they have only a single inhabitant.

This portion feels different to the prior installment in a few ways. Firstly, whilst the others are more complexly thought-out societies, this feels more Swiftian in its approach, absurdism to make a point. Secondly, he ends being unable to make any changes to this era, the individual tendency being overwhelming. Thirdly, another person decides to copy his methods of suspension. How the last part will play out we will have to see in the final installment.

Not my favourite piece but still fascinatingly told and makes great points.

Four stars

More Than One Way by Burt K. Filer

The final new piece is from one of Pohl’s recent discoveries. Humans of 2071 are trying to deal with Denobleans (flying snake creatures). Scotty and Mel develop the EDM (ensephalodigital manipulator) which allows them to pursue alternative paths of evolution of creatures including man.

Ridiculous science, psi-powers, dull engineering details, human ingenuity beating aliens. I would bet my hind teeth this was an Analog reject.

One Star

The Invulnerable Scourge by John Scott Campbell

The final story comes from November 1930’s Wonder Stories. Following a debate between Dr. Riis and Prof. Pfeffler over the superiority of man or insect, the former develops an insect that is completely immune to natural predators. Unsurprisingly it escapes.

With the first-place result for City of Spiders, I guess a lot of readers like these bug-based horror tales. This one is more apocalyptic and good at times, but I was mostly rolling my eyes at it and the ending is a big disappointment.

Two Stars

Rankings for Famous #5, with City of Sleep winning.
Well, one person disliked the West novelette at least…

Past or Future?

Chainmail miniskirt design from 1967
Is Paco Rabane's design meant to be futuristic or historical?

Once again, it seems that sometimes new is better, at others the old has something to teach us. In the 1990s or 2000s, will people be trying to imitate the styles of the 1960s? Only time will tell.






[March 2, 1968] Rules and Regulations (April 1968 IF)


by David Levinson

New rules

Readers don’t need to be reminded that the Winter Olympics in Grenoble, France came to a close just two weeks ago. Of course, most of the attention has gone to French skier Jean-Claude Killy, who took all three gold medals in the Men’s Alpine events, and American Peggy Fleming’s absolutely dominating performance in the Ladies’ Figure Skating competition. But the Games also saw many firsts. Norway took the most medals with 14, taking the top spot from the Soviet Union for the first time since the latter began participating. Morocco fielded a team for the first time (believe it or not, there’s decent skiing in the Atlas Mountains), and East and West Germany participated as separate countries for the first time. This was also the first time the Winter Games were broadcast in color.

There were also some new rules. There has been growing concern over the last few years about athletes taking various drugs to improve their performance, commonly called doping. In 1967, the International Olympic Committee finally joined most other sport associations in instituting a ban on the practice. A total of 86 athletes were tested for various substances, and all tests came back negative. The IOC also began performing sex tests on female athletes this year in order to prevent intersex persons from competing in women’s competition. None were found, but after the policy was announced last year, several Eastern European athletes announced their retirement, which prompted a great deal of speculation.

The stars of the show. (l.) Jean-Claude Killy sporting his medals. (r.) Peggy Fleming in her spectacular performance.

Rules that bend, rules that break

Sometimes rules may be onerous, wrong, or perhaps just inconvenient. Maybe you need to bend them a little, maybe you need to break them and replace them with something better. The stories in this month’s IF offer several cases in point.

The Advanced Guard prepare to study the fauna of Chryseis. Art by Vaughn Bodé

The Man in the Maze, by Robert Silverberg

Richard Muller was one of Earth’s top diplomats when he was sent to make contact with the first aliens humanity had discovered. On his return, he discovered that no one could stand to be around him for more than a few minutes, for reasons that are not yet explained. In disgust, he retreated to the desolate planet Lemnos and the heart of a million-year-old city surrounded by deadly traps. Now his services are needed again. Charles Boardman, the man who sent Muller on the mission that gave him his affliction, and Ned Rawlins, the son of Muller’s late best friend, have come to recruit him. With the aid of robots to plan a safe route through the maze, they make their way deep into the city. As the installment ends, young Ned is about to find Muller. To be continued.

A robot seeks the next lethal trap. Art by Gaughan

If this sounds familiar, that’s because Silverberg is working with the myth of Philoctetes, the heir to the bow of Hercules whose festering wound caused the Greeks to maroon him on the way to Troy, but who is needed for their victory. More specifically, he’s using the play by Sophocles with a bit of Algis Budrys’s Rogue Moon thrown in for excitement. Muller is Philoctetes, Boardman is wily Odysseus, and Rawlins is the naive and honorable Neoptolemus, son of Achilles. This is all set-up, with Muller’s past revealed in flashbacks as the viewpoint shifts among the three main characters. It’s very good, but the meat will come in the next installment.

A very high four stars, with a probable five for the whole thing.

The Edward Salant Letters, by Jerry Juhl

A series of letters between a customer having trouble with his Phonotyper and the computerized service department of American Business Equipment.

Do not fold, spindle or mutilate. Art uncredited

Jerry Juhl is this month’s new author. More interestingly, he is a writer and puppeteer for the Muppets, which American readers may have seen on The Tonight Show, The Mike Douglas Show, or in commercials. Readers outside the U. S. are probably out of luck, but keep your eyes open for them. They’re very, very funny. As for the story, we’ve seen this a hundred times, but this one has an unusual twist that makes it fresh. I certainly didn’t see it coming.

A high three stars.

The Rim Gods, by A. Bertram Chandler

A group of Neo Calvinists from the planet Francisco has stopped at Lorn on their way to Kinsolving’s Planet. Around a century ago, a Stone Age man, an artist who made animals appear by making cave paintings of them, appeared there. He eventually found his way to Francisco and joined the Neo Calvinists. Also with them is the cave artist’s great-granddaughter, one of Francisco’s Blossom People, who practice a sort of hedonistic Zen. The Neo Calvinists believe she has inherited her ancestor’s power and want to use her to bring the Lord to Kinsolving’s Planet and make it a New Sinai. To his great dismay, Commodore John Grimes has been ordered to accompany them as an observer.

They look like fun. Art by Morrow

John Grimes is a man who enjoys his pipe and likes a good tipple. He’s the last person who should be locked in a small ship with this straitlaced bunch. Of course, that’s where this story gets its humor and most of its tension. It’s an enjoyable read if you’ve liked some of Grimes’ earlier adventures, but the ending is a bit confused and rushed.

Three stars.

Meanwhile, Back at the Worldcon…, by Lin Carter

Carter wraps up his report on last year’s Worldcon. It’s mostly more name-dropping, a brief mention of the costume ball, and an enumeration of the Hugo Awards. As I said last month, you're better off reading the Journey’s con report.

A low three stars.

The Product of the Masses, by John Brunner

An Advanced Guard unit under Commander Jeff Hook has been dispatched to the planet Chryseis to assist Dr. Leila Kunje and her team of biologists in studying the local fauna. Unfortunately, the loose, non-hierarchical style of the Advanced Guard are at odds with the extremely repressed (or uptight as the kids are saying these days) attitude of Dr. Kunje. An attitude so repressed it blinds her to some obvious facts, causing problems for everyone.

The local fauna to be studied. These are the smaller males. Art by Vaughn Bodé

They say John Brunner is two authors: the literary New Wave writer who sells to the British market and the outdated hack who writes for the American market. This is work even the hack ought to be ashamed of. Dr. Kunje is a character type that only British male authors seem to write: deeply, angrily sexually repressed to the point of denying the existence of sex, love or even affection. I’m reminded of the journalist in Arthur C. Clarke’s A Fall of Moondust who suffers from “impacted virginity.” No zoologist who is unable to see the glaringly obvious facts in this story would ever have risen to the level that would allow her to be chosen for this mission. It’s a pity, because this could have been a fun, if inconsequential adventure story.

Barely two stars, based only on Brunner being able to string together entertaining sentences.

Slowboat Cargo (Part 3 of 3), by Larry Niven

On the planet Plateau, Matt Keller has become involved with the Sons of Earth, who hope to overthrow the rule of the crew and become more than a labor force and source of organs. When the group was arrested, Matt managed to escape thanks to his strange ability to make people forget he exists. Meanwhile, a mysterious new technology has arrived from Earth via unmanned ramjet. Matt rescued the leadership of the Sons of Earth, and a bit of coincidence brought them into contact with planetary leader Millard Parlette. Together, they start work on a compromise that will put an end to the unjust treatment of the colonists and one day lead to the end of the organ banks. Unbeknownst to them, Matt and another rebel have entered the Hospital again on slightly different rescue missions.

Matt quickly learns to control his power and discovers a corollary power as well. He rescues the girl he fell for back in the first installment, but she proves either to have been driven insane by torture or to have been a fanatic all along. Meanwhile, the politicians come to the realization that there are more factions than just crew and colonist. Talk will have to be backed up by action.

And as the story ends, an Earth ramrobot bound for We Made It catches the attention of the space-dwelling alien merchants known as the Outsiders.

Matt takes a dive. Art by Adkins

Once again, the more interesting bits are people sitting around talking politics. The action verges on the repetitive, and while the actions of the young woman Matt rescues result in the main antagonist getting his just deserts, they felt unjustified by the story. Of course, we barely got to know her at all, so that could be part of the problem. Nevertheless it’s an enjoyable read. It’s also a reminder that the real work begins once the revolution ends. Plateau has a long way to go to become the equitable and just society we saw in The Ethics of Madness.

Three stars for this installment, but I think the whole is greater than the sum of its parts and might be worth four stars.

Summing up

When I finished the magazine, I thought it was the best issue of IF in over a year. After all, when the worst story is by John Brunner, it’s got to be pretty good, right? Unfortunately, that Brunner story really brings down the average. Still, it does hold the end of pretty good novel, the start of a novel that may be very, very good, and a couple of decent stories. I think I’d be happy if IF was this enjoyable every month.

Looks like MacApp may be investigating another alien society, and new Zelazny. Fingers crossed!



I have no idea what to make of tonight's episode of Star Trek

Come join us and help us figure it out!




[February 28, 1968] Zero for the Price of Two (Star Trek: "By Any Other Name")


by Janice L. Newman

This week’s Star Trek episode starts in one genre and ends up in another, ultimately making a promise it just can't deliver on.

The story opens with the Enterprise responding to a distress signal and landing on an out-of-the-way planet. They encounter aliens that appear human, who immediately commandeer the ship. When the landing party attempts to resist, the aliens make a chilling example: they turn two members of the landing party (both garbed in red) into small, strangely-shaped objects, apparently by removing all the water from their bodies and leaving the concentrated essential salts and minerals. One of these objects is crushed before Captain Kirk’s eyes, while the other is restored to his normal human state.

I want to take a moment to note how compelling this part is. It could have been corny in a different kind of show. Yet it’s unexpectedly effective as Kirk crouches over the powdery remains of one of his crewmembers, shocked. There’s no gore or blood, yet it is genuinely horrific.

This promising beginning leads to a promising next act, where the aliens have successfully taken over the ship. Scotty and Spock work out a method to blow up the ship rather than let the aliens take it back to their home planet and start an intergalactic takeover. Kirk nixes the idea, apparently unable to bear the idea of destroying the Enterprise and everyone aboard. Instead of bluffing the aliens or coming up with some clever solution, Kirk flails helplessly, especially when the aliens proceed to turn the entire rest of his crew into salt sculptures. This is once again very creepy and effective, particularly when Kirk comes upon a hallway filled with the fragile objects. Kirk, Dr. McCoy, Spock, and Scotty are the only ones who remain un-salted.

Spock is, appropriately, the one who identifies the aliens’ weakness: they have taken the forms of humans and are now subject to human weaknesses, desires, and emotions. Together, the four hatch a plan to wrest back control of the ship from the aliens.

This is the point where the episode takes a hard left turn into comedy from horror. Of course I expected that the crew would ultimately win, but the tonal shift from creeping horror and despair to wacky high jinks is jarring. Not only that, but the crew’s plan doesn’t make much sense.

McCoy injects one of the aliens with something that will gradually fray his temper, making him angrier and angrier until he snaps. But why didn’t McCoy just use something to knock him out?


"Hey!  Did you put knock-out juice in there?"  "Rats!  Why didn't I think of that?"

Scotty introduces one of the aliens to alcohol, eventually drinking him under the table. These scenes are funny; James Doohan is a talented actor. But since Scotty collapses shortly after his drinking buddy does, ultimately he makes no difference to the plot. Also, why didn’t Scotty just put something in the alien’s drink to knock him out sooner?


"Shay… Did you put knock-out juice in the booze?"  "Ach!  Why didn't I think of that?"

Kirk calls ‘dibs’ on the female alien and repeats the technique he’s come to use on any woman who has captured him: he seduces her (see: “Catspaw”, “Gamesters of Triskelion”, etc). In a nice switch, at first she seems completely uninterested and cold. Disappointingly, this doesn’t last, with her soon falling into his arms again. By the way, Kirk was definitely close enough to have knocked her out with his standard chop to the neck (which he had already used this episode!)


"Say…your lips wouldn't be drugged would they?"  "Why didn't I think of…I mean…why, yes!"

Spock plays on the alien leader’s jealousy, making him angry enough to eventually attack Kirk with his bare hands. Spock has several opportunities to neck-pinch the leader, but does not.


"Say…my shoulder is tense.  Would you mind gripping it?"  "No thanks."

Captain Kirk then gives a monologue which almost makes up for everything in the episode I disliked up to this point. If the aliens are behaving like this after just a day of being human, he says, what will they be like after the 300 years it will take them to get back to their home planet? They won’t even be the same species anymore, they’ll basically be humans, and therefore invaders.


"Aren't you… glad.. you use Dial?  Don't you wish everyone did?"

Sadly, this cleverness is ruined by how easily the once-intractable aliens agree and give in and how quickly everything is wrapped up.

This almost feels like two halves of different episodes. Moreover, the solution is far too pat and comes too easily to have real emotional impact. I assume the scriptwriter wrote himself and the crew into a corner by making the aliens too powerful, then had to do something implausible to get himself out of it.

Three stars, mainly for Scotty and the salt effect.


A Convenient Escape


by Joe Reid

Do you remember that age-old riddle, “what happens when an irresistible force meets an immovable object?” I promise to answer that at the end of this piece.  The question for this week’s Star Trek episode is, what happens when an undefeatable adversary meets an undefeated crew?  In “By Any Other Name”, our heroes were set upon by an enemy that had them outclassed and beaten in every conceivable way.  They faced technology that they could not understand or overcome and a foe that was unrelenting and capable.

When Rojan of Kelva made his appearance, with the female Kelinda at his side, he calmly got right to the point and made his demands clear.  Then he followed up by showing the potency of their power, making the crew impotent.  Impotence in that within a minute and a half he'd paralyzed the team on the planet, making it impossible for them to fight back.  Then he conquered the ship, taking over the critical functions before Kirk had a moment to understand how outmatched they were.  Before we knew it the crew of the Enterprise were slaves on their own ship, most of them converted to mineral polyhedrons. 

Facing a technologically superior baddie that forced them to play red-light green-light or turned them into bouillon cubes, there should have been no way the crew could have gotten out of this trap.  Yet before the end of the episode, the momentum completely shifted to benefit Kirk and company.

This shift happened when Rojan and his associates suddenly became grossly incompetent.  In a short amount of time the Kelvans went from calculating, strategic, and disciplined conquerors that were always in control to drunk, horny, jealous, and rebellious teenagers.  After failing to subvert the Kelvan technological advantage both on the planet and on the ship, Kirk’s strategy to win boiled down to getting the Kelvans to succumb to human faults.


Drea, the one remaining competent Andromedan

In the end this episode allowed the crew to escape their unbeatable dilemma too easily.  I think that more time was needed to unravel a foe of this caliber.  After being introduced to such a credible threat, allowing said threat to beat itself so quickly was a real lost opportunity.  Perhaps this provides us with that answer to that age-old riddle that I promised at the start.  The irresistible force and the immovable object must both yield in order to remain what they are upon meeting.  Answers to ancient puzzles aside, having this unbeatable threat beat itself in the final minutes of the show failed to deliver the payoff that I expected from Star Trek.  The Kelvans lost all credibility in the end and so did this episode.

2 stars


A Generation of Idiots


by Erica Frank

The Kelvans planned a 300-year journey to the Andromeda galaxy. That's a long time, so the trip was planned to involve multiple generations. The Kelvans were born among the stars, and their children would be born en route to another world.


This is a neat effect.

"Generation ships" have been addressed in science fiction before: Heinlein's Orphans of the Sky, Brian Aldiss's Starship ("Non-Stop" in the UK), Judith Merril's "Wish Upon a Star" among them.

In both novels, the "crew" has long forgotten the purpose of their journey. In Merill's story, the arrangement of officers is very different from a standard exploratory mission: the rules have been adapted for multi-generation space travel. In all of them, the authors considered that the great-great-great grandchildren of those who set out will have different goals and priorities than the initial crew.

I do not believe that was considered in this episode.

Set aside that the Enterprise is not designed for this–it does not have food for hundreds of years; its equipment isn't designed to last that long. Pretend that whatever they do to improve the engines will remove the need for repairs or spare parts, and that Sulu's garden will provide enough food. Let's pretend the Enterprise and a small crew can make this trip safely.

The "small crew" is three men and two women. That's not a large breeding pool. But let's pretend that, since they made "perfect" human bodies, they have no troublesome recessive genes; there are no issues with inter-breeding. They designed these bodies with a generation ship in mind, after all.


Do they even know how human breeding works? They didn't know kissing. Are they planning to use the Enterprise's medical records to teach them childbirth, child-rearing, and so on?

They'll need about 4 to 5 new generations per century, depending on what ages they are when they start having children. If they wait until they are 30 or so, they'll have fewer generations–less distance from the original crew. But in that case, the fourth generation will barely remember the originals, and the fifth will not know them at all.

Are they going to have children in neat, exact generations, all births within a 5-10 year period followed by a long gap? How will they enforce that, eight generations down the line?

Nothing about their "generation ship" plan makes sense.

The episode had some good points: Scotty drinking Tomar under the table; Kirk and Spock subtly cooperating to push Rojan into a jealous rage. But the Kelvans' basic plan is so deeply flawed that I watched to see how, not whether, our heroes would foil it.

Two and a half stars. Everything was great… except the actual plot.


Seven Deadlies


by Jessica Dickinson Goodman

Captain Kirk, Dr. McCoy, Spock, and Scotty's plan to use the Andromodeans' newfound humanity against them takes rather a dim view of our (mostly) shared species. It seemed like they each picked a Catholic Deadly Sin to specialize in: the Andromodeans already had more pride than they knew what to do with, plus ample greed on tap; to that potent mix, Scotty served gluttony, McCoy provoked wrath, Spock worked with Captain Kirk on engendering envy, and Captain Kirk spiced things up with lust. The only missing sin by my count was sloth, though there is something kind of inherently parasitic, if not explicitly lazy, in their approach to finding themselves a ride home.


"Get off me!  You don't rank me and you don't have pointed ears, so just get off my neck!"

I wonder what a version of this story might have been if they had instead focused on virtues, on appealing to human curiosity, ingenuity, empathy, even entrepreneurialism, cleverness, or wisdom. Janice is right, the hard left turn to comedy stripped this episode of all of its potential insight into the human condition, taking us from the meaningful deeps and leaving us in frothy waters. But it is fun to imagine what other species-level traits visiting aliens might be saddled with: Our taste for adventure? Our tendency to anthropomorphize ships? Our habits of collecting pets? There are so many more things that make each and every one of us "human" than the sins the officers of the Enterprise honed in on.

Three stars.





[February 26, 1968] Stormy Weather (March 1968 Analog)


by Gideon Marcus

There's no sun up in the sky

Out in the vastness of space, a constellation of man-made moons keeps watch on the Earth below.  Unlike their brethren, the military sentinels that look out for rocket plumes and atomic blasts, these benign probes monitor the planet's weather with a vantage and a vigilance that would make a 19th Century meteorologist green with envy.

In addition to the wealth of daily data we get from TIROS, ESSA, and Nimbus, the West is now getting aid from an unlikely, but no less welcome, source: behind the Iron Curtain.

Two years ago, the Soviets rebuffed the idea of exchanging weather satellite imagery.  "No need," was what they said; "no sats," was probably the real story.  For in August of 1966, all of a sudden, the USSR activated the "Cold Line" link between Moscow and Washington for the exchange of meteorological data.  This action coincided with the recent launch of Cosmos 122, revealed to be a weather satellite.

This constituted a late start in the weather race–after all, TIROS had been broadcasting since 1960.  Nevertheless, better late than never.  Unfortunately, the Soviets first sent only basic weather charts with limited cloud analysis.  Not much good without the raw picture data.  When we finally got the pictures, starting September 11, 1966, the quality was lousy–the communications link is just too long and lossy.  Our ESSA photos probably didn't look any better to them.

By March 1967, however, the lines had been improved, and Kosmos 122 was returning photos with excellent clarity.

We also got infrared data.  The resolution was much worse, but the Soviets maintained they did first discover a pair of typhoons bearing down on Japan.

Since then, the USSR has orbited at least two more weather satellites, Kosmos 144 and Kosmos 184, both returning the same useful data, often from different orbital perspectives than we can easily reach.  For instance, the Soviet pictures offer particularly good views of the poles and northern Eurasia.

It's a little thing, perhaps, this trading of weather data between the superpowers.  But anything that promotes peaceful exchange and keeps the connections between East and West ready and friendly is something to appreciate.  Sometimes the Space Race is more of a torch relay!

Raining all the time


by Kelly Freas

In sharp contrast, Analog remains an island unto itself, and like all inbred families, often produces challenged offspring.  Such is the case with the March 1968 issue, which ranges from middlin' to awful.

The Alien Rulers, by Piers Anthony


by Kelly Freas

We start with the awful.

Fifteen years ago, the blue-skinned Kaozo engaged our space fleet, destroyed it utterly, and became the benevolent masters of Earth.  They created a working socialist society, implementing tremendous public works projects, and humanity proved remarkably complacent under their rule.  Nevertheless, a revolution of sorts has been hatched, and Richard Henrys is tasked with the stickiest assignment–assassinate the Kazo leader, Bitool.

Henrys is quickly captured, but instead of facing execution, Bitool offers him a deal: protect Seren, the first female Kazo on Earth, during the next three days of the revolution, and he can go free.

Sounds like a decent setup.  It's actually a terrible story.  For one thing, the author of Chthon has all of his off-putting tics on display.  Seren is a straw woman, whose vocabulary is largely limited to "Yes, Richard," and "No, Richard."  The social attitudes of this far future world seem rooted in the Victorian times, with passages like this:

"You'll pose as my wife.  Hang on to my arm and–"

"Pose?" she inquired.  "I do not comprehend this, Richard."

Damn the forthright Kazo manner!  He had five minutes to explain human ethics, or lack of them, to a person who had been born to another manner.  Pretense was not a concept in the alien repertoire, it seemed.

He chose another approach.  "For the time being, you are my wife, then.  Call it a marriage of convenience."  She began to speak, but he cut her off.  "My companion, my female.  On Earth we pair off two by two.  This means you must defer to my wishes, expressed and implied, and avoid bringing shame upon me.  Only in this manner are you permitted to accompany me in public places.  Is this clear?"

And this one:

"I promised to explain why this subterfuge was necessary.  I didn't mean to place you in a compromising situation, but–"

"Compromising, Richard?"

"Ordinarily a man and a woman do not share a room unless they are married."

And then, there's the scene where the feminine disguise Richard puts together for Seren falls apart because her body lacks mammalian contours.  Why doesn't he then dress her in male clothes?  And when her stockings start to fall off her legs, I couldn't help wondering how they'd somehow uninvented Panty Hose in the 21st Century.

But then, I'm not sure if Piers Anthony has actually ever talked to a woman, much less seen her in her underthings.

On top of that, the final revelation that the Earth fleet was never destroyed, but instead went on to conquer Kazo, and the two planets have swapped overlords (both governments populated only by the very best technocrats) is so ridiculous as to beggar belief.  That Henrys is invited to become one of the ruling class largely for his novel ideas on how to cut a cake fairly, well, takes the cake.

One star.

Uplift the Savage, by Christopher Anvil


by Kelly Freas

Members of an interstellar agency learn that the best way to increase the technological sophistication of a primitive race is not to give them expertise, but allow them to steal it.  The two-page point is hammered in using fourteen pages of digs at women, higher education, and educated women.

One star.

The Inevitable Weapon, by Poul Anderson


by Harry Bennett

A scientist discovers teleportation.  Useless for interstellar travel, at least for a while, it's great for beaming in concentrated starlight–as a weapon at first, but potentially, to provide energy.

This would be a decent, one-page Theodore L. Thomas piece in F&SF.  Instead, it's fourteen pages of bog-standard detective/secret agent thriller.

Two stars.

Birth of a Salesman, by James Tiptree, Jr.


by Kelly Freas

Jim Tiptee's freshman story is an Anvilesque tale of breakneck pace and nonstop patter.  T. Benedict of the Xeno-Cultural Gestalt Clearance (XCGC) has got a tough job: making sure the trade goods of the galaxy not only take into account the taboos or allergies of alien customers, but also the transhipment longshorebeings. 

Tedium sets in by page two, which, coincidentally, is how many stars I rate it.

The Horse Barbarians (Part 2 of 3), by Harry Harrison


by Kelly Freas

A lot and very little happen in this installment of Jason dinAlt's latest adventure.  Last time on Deathworld III, Jason offered up his fellow Pyrrans as mercenaries to wipe out the horse barbarians on the planet Felicity.  It's fair play, after all, since these barbarians (absolutely not the Mongols, because they have red hair!) slaughtered the last attempt at a mining camp on their frozen plateau.

So, Jason accompanies "Temuchin", the warlord, on an expedition down a cliffside to the technologically advanced civilization on the plains below.  There, they steal some gunpowder, kill a lot of innocent people, and come back–in time to link up with the rest of the Pyrrans for a raid on the Weasel clan.  More slaughter ensues.

Jason feels kind of bad about his part in the killing, but it's all a part of a master plan to someday, eventually, pacify the warriors with by opening up a trade route with the south (as opposed to setting up off-world trade, since the barbarians hate off-worlders).  So whaddaya gonna do?

Well, personally?  Pick a different career path.  Even if the nomads are the biggest savages since the Whimsies, Growleywogs, and Phantasms, what right do the Pyrrans have to kill…anyone? 

Setting aside the moral concerns, Harrison is still an effective writer.  I wasn't bored, just a bit disgusted.

Three stars.

Practice!, by Verge Foray


by Kelly Freas

A shabby little private school for problem children is suddenly the subject of a set of accreditation inspectors.  There's nothing wrong with the kids or the staff–the problem is that the snoops might discover it's really a training ground for junior ESPers!  Luckily, the tykes are on the side of management, and the inspectors are snowed.

I went back and forth on whether this very Analogian tale deserved two or three stars.  On the one hand, I'm getting a little tired of psi stories (the headmaster in the story even says there's no such thing as something for nothing–and that's what psi is), and I resented the smug digs at public school.

But what swayed me toward the positive end of the ledger (aside from the unique and lovely art) was the bit at the end whereby it's suggested that the reason for the school, and the reason psi is so unreliable, is because, like music or language, it's something that needs to be practiced from an early age.  It's a new angle, and pretty neat.

So, three stars.

Can't go on…

Wow.  2.1 stars is bottom-of-Amazing territory, and it easily makes this month's Analog the worst magazine of the month.  Compare it to Fantastic (2.2), IF (3), New Worlds (3.3), and the excellent Fantasy and Science Fiction (3.6), and the contrast is even stronger.

Because of the paucity of magazines, you could fit all the really good stuff into, say, one issue of Galaxy.  On the other hand, women wrote 12% of new fiction this month, which is decent for the times (not to mention the episodes of Star Trek D. C. Fontana has been penning).

It's 1968, an election year.  Maybe this is the year Campbell hands the reins over to someone else.  It certainly couldn't hurt the tarnished old mag.

And then, maybe the sun will come out again!



Speaking of election news, there's plenty of it and more on today's KGJ Weekly report.  You give us four minutes, and we'll give you the world: