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[April 8, 1966] Search Parties (May 1966 Fantastic)


by Victoria Silverwolf

Keep Watching the Skies!

The good citizens of Michigan were recently reminded of the warning I've quoted above, from 1951's The Thing from Another World (a loose cinematic adaptation of John W. Campbell's 1938 novella Who Goes There?).


Father and son describe what they saw.

Folks in Washtenaw County (just look for the city of Ann Arbor on the map, and you're smack dab in the middle of it) reported seeing strange lights in the sky last month. Supposedly, a UFO even landed in a swampy area near the tiny community of Dexter Township.


Looks like a classic flying saucer to me.

About one hundred people witnessed these phenomena. Naturally, the federal government got involved. They sent astronomer J. Allen Hynek to the area to check things out. Reportedly, he thinks at least some of the sightings can be explained as swamp gas. One politician isn't so sure.


Note that the article uses the phrase marsh gas. One person's swamp is another person's marsh, I suppose.

Gerald R. Ford is a United States Congressman from the Grand Rapids district of Michigan, so this situation strikes close to home for him. (He's a Republican, and the Minority Leader of the House of Representatives. Maybe this event will make him famous.)

Here's a picture of Representative Ford and wife Betty on a recent fishing trip, so you'll recognize him if his face shows up in the news in times to come.

It Makes a Fellow Proud to Be a Soldier

While some Americans are tracking down UFO's, others are searching for ways to justify their nation's involvement in the conflict in Vietnam. As a counterpoint to the many demonstrations against the war, a patriotic song celebrating the heroism of the Army Special Forces has been at the top of the charts for several weeks. The Ballad of the Green Berets, sung by Sergeant Barry Sadler, seems to have struck just the right note with many conservative music lovers.


Personally, I prefer the Tom Lehrer song I have alluded to above.

Hunting Through the Pages

Meanwhile, I've been searching for good reading. Take, for example, the latest issue of Fantastic. Fittingly, many of the stories feature characters who are on quests of one kind or another.


Art by Frank R. Paul.

(I might add that I had to search through piles of old pulp magazines to find the original source of the magazine's cover art. It turned out to be the back cover of the September 1944 issue of Amazing Stories.)


Confused? We'll get to an explanation of this weird scene later in the issue.

The Phoenix and the Mirror, by Avram Davidson

Let's begin our journey with a new novella from the former editor of The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction.


Illustrations by Gray Morrow.

The author's introductory note explains that the ancient Roman poet Virgil, author of the Aeneid, was depicted as a sorcerer in legends of the Middle Ages. (Davidson prefers the spelling Vergil, which I will use for the name of the fictional character in this story. He also prefers nigromancer to necromancer and Renascence to Renaissance, but that's typical erudite eccentricity on his part.) He also notes that this tale is the first part of a series to be called Vergil Magus.

Anyway, we begin in medias res, with Vergil trying to escape from an underground labyrinth full of malevolent manticores. (These are not the lion-scorpions of myth, but something more like large, clever weasels.) He manages to get out, winding up at the palace of an aristocrat with magical powers. She forces him to undertake the extremely difficult quest of creating a very special enchanted mirror, so she can see where in the world her daughter might be. He can't say no, because she steals one of his souls.

You read that right. People in this world have more than one soul, it seems. Losing one isn't fatal, but it seems to be so traumatic an event that Vergil feels compelled to undertake the nearly impossible task. He has to obtain unrefined tin and copper ore from the far ends of the known world, and then form the mirror through a long and laborious process. After many struggles, with the help of his alchemist sidekick, he manages to complete this onerous undertaking.


The mirror in use.

That isn't the end of his troubles, however. After instantly falling in love with the daughter after one glimpse in the mirror, he treks through desert wastelands, with an enigmatic Phoenician at his side, to rescue her from a Cyclops.


The lady and the cyclops.

This isn't the typical brutal, dimwitted Cyclops from mythology, but an intelligent, even sensitive creature. Multiple plot twists follow, and we find out why a phoenix is mentioned in the title.

Davidson keeps his baroque writing style under control here, and the plot is cleverly crafted. The background, which is kind of a mixture of the ancient world and the Middle Ages, with a strong dose of pure fantasy, is unique and interesting. Some readers may be impatient with several pages describing in great detail the exact method of creating the mirror, but I found it fascinating.

My one major complaint is that Vergil's lengthy and dangerous voyage to obtain copper ore is skipped over almost entirely, related in just a few sentences of flashback. I would like to learn more about his adventures there. Maybe Davidson plans to expand this novella into a novel, as authors of science fiction and fantasy often do. Otherwise, I greatly enjoyed this witty and imaginative excursion into a past that never existed.

Four stars.

Seven Came Back, by Clifford D. Simak


Cover art by Robert Gibson Jones.

As usual, the rest of the magazine is filled up with reprints. Let's start with a tale from the pages of the October 1950 issue of Amazing Stories.


Illustrations by Arthur Hutah.

The setting is Mars, the favorite world of SF writers. Like many fictional versions of the red planet, this is a place where humans can survive without spacesuits. It's still a very dangerous environment, however, with all sorts of deadly creatures living in the endless desert.

The protagonist is on a quest to find the fabled lost city of the nearly extinct Martians. He hires a couple of tough guys to guide him through the wasteland. As we'll see, this turns out to be a big mistake.

Six Martians show up at their camp. It seems that they're the last of their kind, and they think that the men can lead them to a seventh. The Martians have seven sexes, you see, and this is their last chance to reproduce. (That must certainly make things complicated.)

If the humans help them out, they'll take them to the city, which is supposed to be full of fabulous treasures. The two roughnecks take off on their own, leaving the protagonist alone in the deadly desert.

Things get a lot stranger after this, and I don't want to give too much away. Suffice to say that the main character manages to survive, wins an unexpected ally, and has a mystical experience at the city.


The lost Martian city.

At first, I thought this was more or less a science fiction Western, with the hero heading for a showdown with the no-good polecats who left him to die. I have to admit that the plot went in completely unexpected directions. I'm still pondering the meaning of the ending. The author mixes space adventure with his usual warmth and concern for all living things and a touch of Bradbury's magical Mars.

Four stars.

The Third Guest, by B. Traven

The mysterious author of The Treasure of the Sierra Madre offers a fable of life and death that appeared in the March-April 1953 issue of Fantastic.


Cover art by Richard Powers.

Like everything else about the author, the provenance of this story is puzzling. As far as I have been able to determine, it was written under the title The Healer, was first published in German in 1950 as Macario, and somehow wound up with its current title when it showed up in Fantastic.


Illustrations by Tom O'Sullivan.

One of the few facts known about the author is that he — or she? — lives in Mexico, the setting for most of his — or her? — fiction. This tale is no exception. It takes place when the region was still known as New Spain, during the colonial period.

Macario, a dirt-poor woodcutter, barely manages to feed himself, his wife, and their many children. For most of his life, his greatest dream has been to eat an entire roast turkey by himself. Over several years, his wife saves the tiny payments she receives for doing chores for slightly less poverty-stricken folks. She buys a turkey, prepares it exquisitely, and presents it to her husband, telling him to go into the woods and devour it alone.

Before he can enjoy the delicious feast, however, three strange visitors show up. The first is a sinister fellow, richly dressed. He offers Macario enormous wealth for a share of the turkey. Macario refuses.


The first guest.

The second one is poorly dressed, gentle, and saintly. Despite his kindly manner, Macario again refuses to share his meal. The visitor blesses him anyway.


The second guest.

The third guest, as the title suggests, is the one most vital to the plot. Macario knows he cannot refuse this cadaverous figure, so he at least manages to keep half of the turkey for himself. In exchange, the guest gives him an elixir that will cure all ills, but only if the visitor chooses who will live and who will die. The rest of the story follows Macario as he wins a reputation as a great healer. A summons from the Viceroy of New Spain, whose child is dying, leads to a final confrontation with the third guest.

This is a remarkable fantasy, with the simplicity of a folktale but the sophistication of great literature. It appeared in The Best American Short Stories 1954 (edited by Martha Foley), so I'm not alone in my opinion. It was even made into a Mexican movie in 1960, which you might be able to catch at your local arthouse cinema, if you don't mind subtitles.

Five stars.

The Tanner of Kiev, by Wallace West

The last time we met this author, it was with a reprint of the antifeminist dystopia The Last Man, to which my esteemed colleague John Boston awarded one star. Even if we ignore that story's political stance, it's poorly written. Will this tale, from the October 1944 issue of Fantastic Adventures, be any better? It could hardly be worse.


Cover art by J. Allen St. John.

The first thing to keep in mind is that this is a story about World War Two, written and published during the height of the conflict. You have to expect Our Side to be heroic Good Guys, and Their Side to be sadistic Bad Guys. In particular, the Soviets are definitely on the side of the angels here.


Illustrations by Malcolm Smith.

The hero parachutes behind enemy lines in Nazi-occupied Ukraine. His mission is to deliver a radio transmitter to the underground resistance. Things get weird pretty quickly, as he runs into an immortal magician from Russian folklore.


The wizard and his pets.

Next thing you know, he's at the chicken-legged hut of the legendary old witch Baba Yaga. None of this supernatural stuff seems to bother him, and soon he's on his way into Kiev. He contacts the Russian guerillas, including the pretty female one with whom he falls in love. With the help of the warlock and witch, as well as a talking squirrel and a were-rat, the brave Soviets overcome the craven Germans.

Given the fact that, inevitably, a wartime story is going to paint things in black and white, this isn't a bad yarn at all. It's pretty well written, and the wild and wooly plot held my interest. The changes in mood from whimsical to romantic to horrific are disconcerting, and the love story is a little sappy, but's it worth a read.

Three stars.

Wolf Pack, by Walter M. Miller, Jr.


Cover art by Leo Summers.

The Second World War is also the background for this story, from the September-October 1953 issue of Fantastic, but this time the battle rages in Italy instead of the Soviet Union.


Illustrations by Bernard Krigstein.

The main character is the pilot of an American bomber who has already flown nearly fifty missions, raining destruction from the skies. He has recurring dreams about a alluring woman he thinks of as La Femme, or just La. It would be easy to dismiss this as a predictable fantasy for a young man deprived of female company for an extended period of time, or as an idealized image of his girlfriend back home. Yet she seems very real, and he appears to be in some kind of telepathic communication with her, even while awake.


The woman known as La.

During his latest bombing run, he nearly aborts the mission, terrified that he might destroy her. The other members of the crew have to physically restrain him to complete their gruesome task.


A bomber's world.

The author was a radio operator and tail gunner during World War Two, participating in as many bombing missions over Italy as the story's protagonist. It's no surprise, then, that the details of life as a bomber pilot are extremely realistic and convincing.   Miller took part in the bombing of the Benedictine Abbey at Monte Cassino in 1944, which certainly had an influence on the writing of his award-winning novel A Canticle for Leibowitz (1959), already considered a modern classic.

Unlike the previous story, which, understandably, was full of gung-ho patriotic glory (much like Sergeant Sadler's hit song, come to think of it) this is a somber, emotionally powerful account of the way that war turns men into machines, and how the innocent suffer as much as the guilty.

Five stars.

Betelgeuse, in Orion: The Walking Cities of Frank R. Paul, by Anonymous

I wasn't sure if I should even bother discussing this little article, but what the heck. It originally appeared under the slightly different title Stories of the Stars: Betelgeuse in Orion, supposedly by a Sergeant Morris J. Steele in the September 1944 issue of Amazing Stories. This is probably a pseudonym for the magazine's editor, Raymond A. Palmer, but I can't prove that.


Cover art by Julian S. Krupa.

Anyway, after some facts about the giant star, we get wild speculation about the beings who might live there. It's pretty much just a way to fill up some space.

Two stars.

The End of the Search

Well, my search for enjoyable fiction certainly paid off! This was an outstanding issue. Even the worst story was pretty good, and the best were excellent. It makes me ponder my skepticism about reprinting old stuff. After all, I don't complain when an movie from yesteryear shows up on television, as long as it's a good one.


Check your local listings to see if this decade-old classic will be showing in your area any time soon.






[March 14, 1966] Random Numbers (May 1966 Worlds of Tomorrow)


by Victoria Silverwolf

Printers' Devils

When I'm reading a book or magazine, if I come across a mistake in printing it takes me right out of the story. If it's a simple misspelling, it's no big deal, yet there's still that brief moment when my mind unwillingly goes back to reality.

More serious problems, such as a few lines duplicated or in the wrong place, cause greater distress. In the most extreme cases, as when entire pages are missing, the experience is ruined.

I bring this up because my copy of the latest issue of Worlds of Tomorrow contains an egregious example of this kind of technical shortcoming.

Dig That Crazy, Mixed-Up 'Zine, Man


Cover art by Gray Morrow.

Allow me to provide you with a metaphorical road map for the route you need to take between the front and back covers of the publication.

Pages 1 through 15: OK so far.
Pages 18 through 21: Hey, what happened to the other two?
Pages 16 through 17: Oh, there they are.
Pages 22 through 45: Smooth sailing.
Pages 48 through 55: Here we go again!
Pages 46 through 47: Another two pages out of place.
Pages 56 through 164: No more detours, thank goodness.

If I've managed to annoy and confuse you with that, now you know how I felt when I read this issue. The short, sharp shock (to steal a phrase from Gilbert and Sullivan's The Mikado) of jumping from an incomplete sentence on page 15 or page 45 to a completely unrelated incomplete sentence on page 18 or page 48, then having to flip through the magazine to find page 16 or page 46, then having to hop back to page 15 or page 45 to remember what the incomplete sentence said, was a pain in the neck. (That's another allusion to the short, sharp shock. Ask your local G and S fan what it means.)

Thus, if I seem a little more critical than usual, blame it on the printer (not on the Bossa Nova.) With that in mind, let's get started.

The Ultra Man, by A. E. Van Vogt


Illustrations by Peter Lutjens.

I'll confess that I have a real blind spot when it comes to Van Vogt. I know he's one of the giants, like Asimov and Heinlein, of Astounding's Golden Age, but I almost always find his stuff hard going. Often I can't follow the plot at all. When I think I understand what's going on, it usually seems overly complicated. Given my prejudice, I'll try to be as objective as possible.

The setting is an international lunar base. A psychologist demonstrates his newly acquired psychic ability to a military type. It seems the headshrinker can tell what somebody is thinking by looking at his or her face. Suddenly, he spots an alien disguised as an African who intends to kill him.

(There's an odd explanation for why the alien takes the form of an African. Something about that would give him the protection of race tension. I have no idea what that's supposed to mean. That's my typical reaction to Van Vogt.)

We soon find out that other folks have been gaining psychic abilities, all of them following a very strange pattern. The people retain the power for a couple of days, then lose it for a while, then get it back in a much more powerful form for a brief time. If there was any sort of explanation for this bizarre phenomenon, I missed it.


Like the first illustration, this is more abstract than representative.

Anyway, the psychologist and the military guy get involved with a Soviet psychiatrist and with aliens intent on conquering humanity. Only the psychologist's intensified psychic powers, of a very mystical kind, save the day.

Science fiction is often accused of being a literature full of power fantasies, and this story could serve as Exhibit A. (Just look at the title.) The psychologist's abilities eventually become truly god-like.

I have to admit that this thing moves at an incredibly fast pace. It reads like a novel boiled down to a novelette. I can't call it boring, at least, even if it never really held together for me.

Two stars.

The Willy Ley Story, by Sam Moskowitz


Uncredited photograph.

The tireless historian of science fiction turns his attention to the noted rocket enthusiast, science writer, and SF fan. As usual for Moskowitz, there's a ton of detail, as well as a seemingly endless list of early publications by Ley and others. For an encyclopedia article, it would be a model of thoroughness. As a biographical sketch for the interested reader of Ley's writings, it's pretty dry stuff.

Two stars.

Spy Rampant on Brown Shield, by Perry Vreeland


Illustrations by Gray Morrow.

A writer completely unknown to me jumps on the James Bond bandwagon with this futuristic spy thriller.

It seems that the Cold War has been replaced by a struggle between the good old USA and some kind of unified Latin America. The enemy Browns — named for their uniforms, I believe, and not intended, I hope, as a reference to their ethnicity — have a shield that will protect them from nuclear weapons. This means that the dastardly fellows can attack the Norteamericanos with impunity.

The protagonist is the typical highly competent secret agent found in this kind of story, although said to be more cautious than others. He gets a cloak of invisibility so he can sneak into the office of the Brown scientist in charge of the shield and get the plans for it.


Our hero stuns his target.

The invisibility gizmo has several limitations. Dirt and moisture render it less than effective in hiding the user. (In an amusing touch, the hero has to keep changing his socks.) Some kind of scientific mumbo-jumbo is used to explain why it shimmers when more than one source of light, of particular intensities and locations, strike it.

Much of the story consists of the spy just waiting, so he can walk through a doorway, opened by somebody else, without drawing attention. In an interesting subplot, he has to fight altitude sickness as well, because the headquarters of the scientist are located at a great elevation, way up in the Andes.


Walking through the streets of La Paz, the highest capital city in the world.

The twist ending, during which we find out the true nature of the Browns' shield technology, is something of a letdown. It also allows the hero to escape from the Bad Guys, thanks to dumb luck and pseudoscience.

Two stars.

The Worlds That Were, by Keith Roberts

Here's a rare American appearance by a new but quite prolific British author. The narrator and his brother, from an early age, have been able to escape the slum in which they live and enter other times and places. He meets a woman in a dreary public park and brings her home. This leads to a battle with his brother, who sabotages the paradises into which he brings the woman, even trying to kill her. At the end, the narrator learns the truth about his brother and the power they share.

This is a delicate, emotional, poetic tale, full of vivid descriptions of both the beautiful and the ugly. Despite the speculative content, in essence it is a love story. Notably, the narrator, despite his incredible ability, is quite ordinary in most ways. Similarly, the woman isn't an alluring beauty or a temptress, but a fully believable, realistic character. This makes their romance even more meaningful.

Five stars.

Delivery Tube, by Joseph P. Martino


Illustrations by Jack Gaughan.

More proof of the continuing effect on popular culture of the late Ian Fleming, if any be needed, appears in yet another spy yarn. The setting is the fictional Republic of Micronesia. (Given the fact that we're told this is one of the most populous nations on Earth, which is hardly true for the many tiny islands collectively known as Micronesia, I'm guessing this is supposed to be something like Indonesia.)

Anyway, the supposedly neutral Micronesians, with help from Red China, possess atomic bombs and at least one satellite to send into orbit. The paradox is that they don't seem to have any way to launch either the bombs or the satellite. Our hero, with the help of some local opposition parties and anti-Communist Chinese, investigates the mysterious construction project happening on Micronesia's main island.


What are they building in there?

Along the way, he gets mixed up with an old enemy, a Soviet agent. The USSR wants to find out what Micronesia is up to as well, so the two foes become temporary allies. A lot of familiar spy stuff goes on. I'm pretty sure you'll figure out what the construction is all about long before the hero does.

Two stars.

Alien Arithmetic, by Robert M. W. Dixon

People who hate math can skip this part of my review.

The author considers various ways to record numbers, other than our familiar base ten Arabic numerals. Before he gets to the alien stuff, he talks about Roman numerals, and demonstrates how to perform addition with them. It makes you glad you don't use them in daily life.

After a brief discussion of binary arithmetic, familiar to many of us in this modern age of electronic computers, we get to some weirder ways of symbolizing numbers.

First comes an odd and confusing system in which the column on the right uses only 0 and 1, the one to the left of that 0, 1, and 2, the one to the left of that 0, 1, 2, and 3, and so forth. As an example, 4021 translates as (4x1x2x3x4) + (0x1x2x3) + (2x1x2) + (1×1) = (96) + (0) + (4) + (1) = 101. (The author claims it translates to 99, but I'm just following his exact method of calculation, using the same example and the same steps. Somebody doublecheck me, but I think I'm right! For 99, I think the number would be 4011.)

Next we turn to a way of recording numbers by combining symbols for their prime factors. This is easier to explain via the author's diagram than in words.


An example of number symbols based on prime factors. The symbol for six combines the symbols for two and three, and so forth.

These imaginary number systems seem awfully impractical to me. The author vaguely links them to imaginary aliens, but that's really irrelevant. My formal education in mathematics ended with first semester calculus, so I'm no expert, but this kind of thing interests me to some extent (which is why this part of the review is longer than it should be.)

Number-haters can start reading again.

Two stars.

Trees Like Torches, by C. C. MacApp


Illustrations by Jack Gaughan.

We jump right into a drastically changed far future Earth, so it takes a while to figure out what's going on. Many centuries before the story begins, aliens conquered the planet. It's considered an unimportant, backwater world, so they use it as a hunting preserve. (I'm assuming this includes humans as prey, although this isn't made explicit.) They also mutated Earth creatures into new forms, so the surviving humans have to face dangerous animals.

As if that weren't enough to ruin your day, there are also human renegades who kidnap children, for a purpose not revealed until the end. The plot deals with a man out to rescue his daughter from the renegades. Help comes from blue-skinned, telepathic human mutants.


Beware the trees!

A lot of stuff goes on besides what I've noted above. Despite the science fiction explanation for everything, this fast-paced adventure story felt like a fantasy epic to me. The beings in it seem more magical than biological. It's not a bad tale, if a little hard to get into.

Three stars.

Holy Quarrel, by Philip K. Dick


Illustrations by Dan Adkins.

Three government agents wake up a computer repairman. It seems that the super-computer that monitors all the data in the world for possible threats against the United States has a problem. It claims that it needs to launch nuclear weapons against a region of Northern California. The G-men managed to stop that by jamming a screwdriver into the machine's tapes.

The danger, or so it says, comes from a fellow who manufactures gumball machines.  This seems utterly ridiculous, of course, so the government guys want the repairman to figure out what's wrong with the computer. Just to be on the safe side, they investigate the gumball magnate, and study the candy machines as well as the stuff they contain. They communicate with the stubborn computer, even trying to convince it that it doesn't really exist.


You don't really think it will fall for that, do you?

You can tell that there's more than a touch of the absurd to the plot, along with a satiric edge.  The author throws in the computer's religious beliefs, as well as an outrageous ending.  The whole thing has the feeling of dark comedy.  (There are references to the USA having attacked both France and Israel, due to the computer's perception of threats.) Like a lot of works by this author, it has a plot that seems improvised.  It always held my interest, anyway.

Three stars.

In Need of Some Repair

So, were the works in this issue as messed up as the page numbers?  For the most part, I have to admit they were.  With the shining exception of an excellent story from Keith Roberts, both the fiction and articles were disappointing, although they got a little better near the end of the magazine.  My sources in the publishing world tell me that this will be the last bimonthly issue of Worlds of Tomorrow, and that it will turn into a quarterly.  This should give the editor, and the printer, time to deal with its problems.


Even an amusement park has to close down once in a while to fix things.



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




[March 4, 1966] Sanguinary Cinematic Surgery (Blood Bath and Queen of Blood)


by Victoria Silverwolf

Holiday for Hemophiles

A rather lurid double feature showed up at my local movie house a few days ago. Naturally, I had to go see it.


Nothing says Fun For The Whole Family like Shrieking Mutilated Victims.

Besides being released by (or escaping from) the same production company, these two films would seem to have little in common other than the prominent use of the word Blood in the title. This shouldn't come as a surprise, since American International also brought us Blood of Dracula (1957), Night of the Blood Beast (1958), and A Bucket of Blood (1959).

One is a black-and-white supernatural thriller, the other is a science fiction melodrama, full of bright colors. Quite different, right?

Actually, they resemble each other closely in a very specific way. Both make extensive use of footage from other movies. The scenes are chopped up, rearranged, and slapped back together, like making a Frankenstein's monster from random body parts. I'll go into detail as I discuss each film.

Art in the Blood

Let's start with Blood Bath, a confusing story that began as an ordinary crime drama.


Nothing like this actually happens in the movie. That's advertising for you.

Take a deep breath, because the path to the final product on screen is a long and tortuous one. (You may also find it torturous. Please note the distinction between these two terms.)

According to Hollywood gossip, this thing started life as a tale of murder filmed in Yugoslavia. It had something to do with a painting by the great artist Titian. None of this remains in Blood Bath.


Not a Yugoslavian crime film.

In fact, all we've got left are some nice scenes of Yugoslavia and the presence of actor William Campbell, familiar to me for his work in the psychological shocker Dementia 13 (1963). It was a pretty decent scare flick, written and directed by a newcomer named Francis Coppola.


Campbell stars in Blood Bath as an insane artist who lives in an old bell tower.

The next stop in the convoluted road to Blood Bath was to dump the plot and turn it into a horror movie involving a crazed painter. He imagines that he's possessed by the spirit of an ancestor, also an artist, who was condemned as a sorcerer way back in the bad old days. He kills his models and dumps them into a vat of wax.

Apparently this wasn't creepy enough for the producers. More new footage establishes that the madman is also a shapeshifting vampire. I don't mean that he turns into a bat or a wolf. I mean that he turns into another actor.

You see, Campbell was no longer available. Some other guy, who looks nothing at all like Campbell, plays the artist when he changes into a bloodsucker.


Not William Campbell.

I previously mentioned the movie A Bucket of Blood, which was an enjoyable black comedy about a guy who becomes an acclaimed sculptor when he accidentally kills a cat and covers the body in clay, creating his first masterpiece. He goes on to murder people and turn them into works of art in the same way. (I said it was enjoyable, not in good taste.)

Anyway, that film contains a great deal of biting satire concerning the pretentions of arty beatnik types. Blood Bath tosses that into the mix as well, resulting in a movie with wild shifts in mood from grim to comic.


Beatniks!

One artist produces what he calls quantum art by loading a pistol with a packet containing paint and shooting it at the canvas. Another applies paint directly to the face of a model, then shoves her into the canvas. (I felt sorry for the actress playing this tiny role, who had to put up with getting some kind of goop on her face.)

All this makes the movie seem like a real mess, and I can't deny that it's even less coherent than I've made it sound. And yet it's not without interesting moments. As I've mentioned, there are some fine scenes of Yugoslavia. (The film actually takes place in Southern California, so there are some inconsistencies. Notably, the bell tower is supposedly from medieval times.) The cinematography, in general, is quite good, creating an eerie mood, full of darkness and shadows.

The vampire attacks, although they stick out from the rest of the film like sore thumbs, are done with some imagination. There's one at a merry-go-round, and another in a swimming pool.

In particular, I was very impressed with a hallucinatory sequence. The artist imagines himself in a desert landscape full of strange objects, while his ancestor's mistress dances and laughs at him.


It reminds me of a Salvador Dali painting.

The ending, which I won't give away here, doesn't make much sense, but is strangely effective in its own way. That pretty much describes the whole movie, really.

Red Planet, Green Vamp

Let's leave Yugoslavia/California and head for outer space, in order to meet the Queen of Blood.


The portrait of the Queen is pretty accurate, but the movie does not feature tiny people floating in a giant spider web.

We start with some really nifty abstract art under the opening titles.


Painting by John Cline. He gets on screen credit, too.

Our helpful narrator tells us that it's the year 1990. People have settled the Moon, and are planning voyages to Mars and Venus. Space travel is under the auspices of the International Institute of Space Technology.

The IIST receives signals from another solar system, indicating intelligent life. We then cut to scenes of the alien world.  These are quite impressive, and show a great deal of visual imagination.


Looks like something Chesley Bonestell might have dreamed up, doesn't it?

Let me back up a bit and explain why some parts of this movie look quite lovely, and others look, well, cheap. Queen of Blood takes much of its footage from a Soviet film, Mechte navstrechhu. My Russian is a little rusty, but this seems to mean something like To the dream.

Similar things have happened in the past. The Noble Editor and the Young Traveler have already told us how the Soviet film Nebo Zovyot (The sky is calling, more or less) emerged as Battle Beyond the Sun in American theaters.

Last year, Planeta Bur (Storm planet) showed up as Voyage to the Prehistoric Planet. I'm sure more of this kind of thing will go on in the future. Why? Simply because the Soviet SF films are so visually impressive.


Take a look at this scene from the alien world in Queen of Blood, for example.

Back at the IIST, we meet our heroes, about to take a lunch break. Their meal is interrupted by the announcement that the alien message has been translated.


From left to right, John Saxon as Allen, Judi Meredith as Laura, Dennis Hopper as Paul, and Don Eitner as Tony. For a supposedly international organization, the IIST is sure full of Americans.

All four are astronauts, and Laura is also the communications expert we saw listening to the alien broadcast. She and Allen are romantically involved, but that doesn't prevent them from acting in a fully professional manner when on the job. I'll give the film credit for making Laura a vital character in the plot, rather than simply the Girl.

The leader of the IIST tells a huge crowd of listeners (more Soviet footage) that an alien spaceship is on its way to our solar system.


Very special guest star Basil Rathbone, everybody's favorite Sherlock Holmes, as the director of the IIST.

A small device, containing a record of the voyage, falls into Earth's ocean. This reveals that the aliens suffered an accident and crash landed on Mars.


The beautiful alien spaceship, before it leaves its home planet.

By the way, the scene in which the crowd listens to the announcement is visually stunning. It features a statue of heroic proportions, symbolizing humanity's exploration of space.


Seriously, isn't that monument gorgeous?

Naturally, the IIST sends astronauts to Mars to contact the aliens. Aboard the oddly named spaceship Oceano are Laura and Paul, along with a Dutch-accented commander. (OK, not everybody in the IIST is American or British.) The vessel is launched from the Moon, which allows us to see some very nice Soviet models of a lunar base.

The Oceano gets hit by a so-called sunburst on the way to Mars, forcing them to use extra fuel and causing some damage. They find the alien spaceship, occupied by one dead extraterrestrial. They figure out that some sort of lifeboat must have carried away the survivors of the crash.


In other news, home sales increase.

Because the Oceano II isn't ready yet — couldn't they think of another name? — Allan and Tony volunteer to take the much smaller Meteor to help with the search for the lifeboat. They can't land the tiny vessel on Mars and then take off again, due to limitations on how much fuel they can carry, but they can land on Phobos, due to the lesser gravity. (Hey! Some real science!)


The view from Phobos. Nice work, comrades.

The logistics of the space voyages get pretty complicated here. After the guys on the Meteor find the sole surviving alien on Phobos, thanks to pure dumb luck, it turns out that Allan can travel to Mars to join the crew of the Oceano with his extraterrestrial passenger aboard the Meteor's own lifeboat, but that Tony has to stay on Phobos and wait to be rescued by the Oceano II when it shows up in a week.

We finally get to meet our title character. She's well worth waiting for. Looking very much like a human woman, except for her green skin, she remains mute throughout the film. This makes her all the more intriguing.


Czech actress Florence Marly as the Queen of Blood.

Communicating with the Earthlings strictly through facial expressions and gestures, she clearly coveys a sense of friendship for the males, but dislike for Laura. Paul soon teaches her to drink water from a bottle, but she refuses all offers of food. She also reacts violently when Laura tries to take a blood sample from her, knocking the syringe to the floor in anger.


Paul demonstrates how to use a squeeze bottle. The Queen of Blood is more interested in another liquid.

Well, given the title, you can probably guess what comes next, and who the first victim will be. Suffice to say that the Queen of Blood was quite right to be suspicious of Laura, who turns out to be the film's real hero.


Queen of Blood eggs, suggesting that there should be a question mark at the end of the above phrase.

A Bloody Good Time

I won't claim these two films are masterpieces. Both have serious flaws.

Blood Bath is incoherent, to say the least. It does have some moody scenes, however, and its lack of plot logic gives it a dream-like feeling that may be appealing.

Queen of Blood suffers from the cheapness of the American scenes, obviously filmed on small stages, as opposed to the sweeping vistas of the Soviet scenes. On the other hand, Florence Marly's performance is compelling.


Oh, that's where the question mark went.

If you enjoy these movies, maybe you'll be inspired to do a good deed of some sort once you leave the theater.



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




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


by Victoria Silverwolf

Straight From the Horse's Mouth

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

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


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

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


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

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


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

How Green Was My Valley

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


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

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

A Songbird Flies Back

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

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


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

Half a Century for Half a Buck

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


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


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

The Bells of Shoredan, by Roger Zelazny


Illustrations by Gray Morrow.

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

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


The unlikely pair witness a ghostly battle.

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

Four stars.

Hardly Worth Mentioning, By Chad Oliver


Cover art by W. T. Mars.

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


Illustrations by Ernie Barth.

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


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

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

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

Four stars.

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


Illustration by Gray Morrow.

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

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

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

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

Three stars.

Keep Out, by Fredric Brown


Cover art by Clarence Doore.

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


Illustration by John Schoenherr.

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

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

Two stars.

The People of the Pit, by A. Merritt


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

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


Cover art by Frank R. Paul.

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

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

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


Illustration by Martin Gambee.

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

Three stars.

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


Cover art by Leo Summers and Ed Valigursky.

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


Illustration by Leo Summers.

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

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

Three stars.

How Did You Enjoy Today's Grammar Lesson?

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

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

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

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


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



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




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


by Victoria Silverwolf

My Word Is My Bond

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


And he designed the cover art, too.

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

Spies On The Screen

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

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

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


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

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


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

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


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

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


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

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


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

Idiot Box Intelligence Agents

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


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

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


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

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


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

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


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

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


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

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


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

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


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

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


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

Mad About Spies

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


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

Double-Oh Double Feature

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

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


The trailer emphasizes Danger! rather than Women!

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


Who ordered an extra large spinach and pepperoni pizza?

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


Carl Esmond as Spore Guy.

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


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

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


Romance, Adam Chance style.

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


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

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


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

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

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

Human Aetiological Relations Machine.

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

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

The Lighter Side of Espionage


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

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

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


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

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

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


Just part of a routine day for Derek Flint.

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


Flint bids a temporary farewell to the ladies

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


Coburn is really doing this, without special effects.

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


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

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


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

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

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


The Bad Guys have great interior decorators.

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

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

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


Make that five girlfriends.

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

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

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


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




[January 16, 1966] Getting There Is Half The Fun (March 1966 Worlds of Tomorrow)


by Victoria Silverwolf

Modes of Transportation


I hope that the Cunard Line will forgive me for stealing their famous slogan. By the way, isn't this a lovely advertisement?

In this modern world, there are all kinds of ways of getting around. There are luxury liners, as shown above. There are airplanes, complete with friendly attendants to cater to your every whim.


This ad is about ten years old. It must have come from a magazine in a doctor's waiting room.

There are, of course, automobiles, that you can either own or rent when you need them.


I do not, however, recommend jumping directly from a plane to a car.

In science fiction, we have lots of futuristic devices to send us from one place to another, from moving sidewalks to starships. The latest issue of Worlds of Tomorrow features people transported through space and time in various ways. The lead novella includes a method of getting from Point A to Point B that I haven't seen before, and that I don't think I would enjoy.

Dying To Be Somewhere Else


Cover art by Gray Morrow.

The Suicide Express, by Philip Jose Farmer


Illustrations by Jack Gaughan.

We return to the planet known as Riverworld, where everyone who has ever lived on Earth is reincarnated into a young and healthy body. Our hero is, once more, the Nineteenth Century adventurer Richard Francis Burton. It turns out that anyone who dies on Riverworld is reincarnated again, but in a different location on the giant planet.

Burton discovers that his old nemesis, the infamous Nazi leader Hermann Goering, has been reincarnated in the same place he now resides, after Burton killed him. We'll find out later that the two enemies come back to life in identical locations more than once. There is some kind of bond between them, it seems, although why remains a mystery.

The enormous river that gives this world its name runs from the north pole, all the way around the planet, then back to where it started. That doesn't make geographic sense, of course, so it's clear that some kind of super-advanced technology is involved. There are tales of a bold explorer who spotted a vast tower at the head of the river, beyond impassible mountains. Determined to unlock the secrets of Riverworld, Burton sets out to find the tower. Because sailing all the way to the north pole, if it is even possible, would take many decades, he uses another method of travel.

He kills himself. Seven hundred and seventy-seven times, to be exact. The odds are low that he'll be reincarnated near the north pole, but he's willing to take the chance.

Meanwhile, the so-called Ethicals who created Riverworld are hunting down Burton, apparently because he seems to be the only person who was conscious, in some kind of storage area, before being reincarnated. There's also a rogue Ethical, working against the others, who claims to be protecting Burton.

Along the way we meet John Collop, a Seventeenth Century poet. Like Burton and Goering, this is a real historical figure, if not quite as famous. In Farmer's tale, he's a saintly fellow, who is an evangelist for a new religion, the Church of the Second Chance. We also witness the transformation of the guilt-ridden, drug-addicted Goering into what possibly might be a better human being.


Burton meets the Ethicals.

The plot moves swiftly, and there's always something interesting going on. Farmer has latched on to a premise that allows him a lot of room to bring in folks from all sorts of places, from the prehistoric past to the near future. My only quibble is that he raises more questions than he answers. I assume there will be more stories in this series. They might clear things up.

Four stars.

The Kindly Invasion, by Christopher Anvil

Let's see; a story by Christopher Anvil. Do I even have to read it to find out that it's about clever humans outwitting technologically superior but foolish aliens?

In this variation on his favorite theme, the extraterrestrials come to Earth bearing gifts. Among other blessings, they offer a serum that prevents aging. They communicate with humans via telepathy.

Our main character smells something fishy. He assumes the telepathy is really brainwashing. He's the big boss of an arms company, and he decides to sell an excellent firearm to the public dirt cheap, so that lots of people will buy them. (Can you see where this is going?)

Sure enough, the aliens turn out to be bad guys, and the heavily armed folks who didn't fall for their propaganda are ready to take them on.

I was really, really hoping that the arms dealer's suspicions would turn out to be unjustified. Instead, there is nothing at all surprising about the plot. This yarn would have found a more appropriate home in the pages of Analog.

Two stars.

The Super-Sleuths of Science Fiction, by Sam Moskowitz

In the previous issue, we had the first part of a look at crimefighters in SF. This section is exactly like the other. We get a long list of science fiction detective stories, most of which sound really lousy. At the end we get a quick look at modern examples, such as Asimov's robot novels.

My opinion has not changed. I admire the author's scholarship, but the resulting article is as dry as dust.

Two stars.

Like Any World of Gree, by C. C. MacApp


Illustrations by Peter Lutjens.

A bunch of stories about a resourceful hero fighting the slaveholding minions of Gree have already appeared in If. I'm not sure why this one appeared in its sister magazine, but maybe editor Frederik Pohl ran out of room for it.

Anyway, in this adventure we're on Earth. The home world is already occupied by the villains, but the good guys are coming to the rescue. There's just one big problem. Once the followers of Gree are defeated in a space battle, they'll wipe out all life on the planet. Our hero has to sneak in, disguise himself as a human bounty hunter working for the bad guys, work with the local resistance underground, and, as usual, sneak his way into the enemy compound.


Take that, Gree-loving scum!

The series as a whole has been a little repetitious. This one has the novelty of being set on Earth, but otherwise it's the same old espionage and sabotage plot we've seen before.

Two stars.

Umpty, by Basil Wells

A couple of hundred years from now, most folks are unemployed. Some of them eke out a living with subsistence farming, other are outlaws. The protagonist, a fellow hoping to get a job, rescues a woman from a gang of hoodlums. She claims to be from the past, with her mind transported into a body of the future. After some adventures, they find out what's really going on.

There really isn't much to this story other than the twist ending, which I thought was kind of silly. I suppose the background is mildly interesting, but that's about it.

Two stars.

Comets Via the VJSEH, by Robert S. Richardson

The author speculates about the origin of comets having orbits associated with Jupiter. He dismisses the idea that they were captured by the gravity of the giant planet, because there are far too many of them still around, considering their relatively short lifetimes. Did they emerge from Jupiter? No, because they could not possibly escape the immense gravitational pull. Instead, he promotes the hypothesis that they were ejected from Jovian moons, due to volcanic activity.

It seems to me that the argument falls apart if you accept the possibility that there's a steady supply of comets coming from deep in space, maybe beyond Pluto. In that case, there would be plenty of them for Jupiter to grab. The article also has some illustrations that are not reproduced very well, so I haven't bothered to photocopy them here.

Two stars.

Choice of Weapons, by Richard C. Meredith


Illustration by Gray Morrow

A motley collection of folks gets transported from all kinds of places on Earth, and from different times, in this yarn. There's the hero, an American (I presume) hunter of the present; there's a naked, seemingly comatose little girl; a royal woman of ancient Egypt; a huge fellow of prehistoric times; a woman from a decadent future; an ancient Roman soldier; an Asian woman who might be from just about any time; and a soldier from a brutal future dictatorship.

These very confused people find themselves in a metal room. Food appears from time to time, but the amount keeps shrinking. Given this threat to their existence, not to mention conflict over the affections of the sexually provocative woman from the future, it's not a big surprise when violence breaks out. (I forgot to mention that the hunter has his gun, the Roman has his sword, and the man from the future has his laser. The prehistoric man just has his body, which is enough of a weapon.)

There's an explanation for their situation, of course. It also turns out that the little girl, who does not respond to anything at all in any way until the end of the story, is the key to saving the lives of those who survive the ordeal.

I have very mixed feelings about this tale. The frequent killing, along with implied rape, make it disturbing to read. On the other hand, the way in which the author portrays characters from many different times and cultures is convincing. In particular, the half-intelligible language spoken by the woman from the future is fascinating.

Three stars.

Did You Have A Nice Trip?

The good ship Worlds of Tomorrow, under the command of Captain Frederik Pohl, set sail with streamers flying. Her first port of call was well worth the price of boarding. The rest of the voyage, maybe not. As we disembark, we may wistfully wonder if the excursion was really a vital one.


If it's a Galactic Journey, I have to say Yes!



[December 14, 1965] Expect the Unexpected (January 1966 Fantastic)


by Victoria Silverwolf

It's a Bird! It's a Plane! It's . . . a Meteor? A Satellite? A Flying Saucer?

Things got off to a bang earlier this month, in a most unexpected way. On the evening of December 9, folks in Canada and the United States saw a fireball in the sky. According to witnesses, something crashed in the woods near the town of Kecksburg, Pennsylvania.

(Cue eerie theremin music.)

The US military and state troopers sealed off the area and began a search. So far, they haven't reported finding anything.

(That's what they want you to think.)


Isn't this the way The Blob started?

After eliminating things like a plane crash, the authorities seem to think the most likely suspect is a meteor that exploded in the atmosphere. (Vocabulary lesson for today: A very bright meteor, particularly one that blows up spectacularly, is known as a bolide.) It might possibly be debris from a satellite, some suggest. Of course, you and I know it's really little green men . . .

Another Song of Solomon?

Almost as surprising as a blazing visitor from outer space is a modern pop song with lyrics that are a couple of thousand years old. The Byrds are currently at the top of the American music charts with their version of Turn! Turn! Turn!

Composed by folk singer Pete Seeger, almost all the words are taken from the Old Testament book Ecclesiastes, supposedly written by King Solomon. The exceptions are the title, repeated several times, and the closing line I swear it's not too late, emphasizing the song's antiwar message.


She don't care about grammar either, I guess.

What Do You Expect For Four Bits?

Appropriately, the latest issue of Fantastic is full of unexpected happenings.


Cover art by James B. Settles, taken from the back cover of the August 1942 issue of Amazing Stories.


The best copy I can find of the original. Please excuse the tiny print. I doubt this is a very accurate representation of the planet Uranus anyway.

Six and Ten Are Johnny, by Walter M. Miller, Jr.


Cover art by Barye Phillips and Leo Summers.

From the very first issue of Fantastic comes this tale of an unexpected encounter on a distant world.


Illustrations by Virgil Finlay.

A shuttle carries a survey team from a starship down to the surface of the planet. The crew has an uneasy feeling about the place, for no obvious reason. They land on a plateau above a dense jungle. They are shocked to meet Johnny, who claims to be the sole survivor of a lost starship. Things get even weirder when some of the crew members vanish, and the others claim that they never even existed.


Officers from the starship join the survey team in an attempt to figure out what's going on.

Everybody seems to be in a dazed condition, except the protagonist. That's because he's got a metal plate in his head, which protects him from having his mind controlled by the alien organism that makes up the jungle.


The wild-eyed madman in this picture is actually our completely sane hero, who is trying to protect a colleague from the creature's telepathic powers.

This is a grim little science fiction horror story with a feverish, eerie mood. I'm not sure I believe the way the alien organism works, or if the behavior of the crew is plausible. (Would you really bring a bunch of dogs on a starship to test if a planet's atmosphere is breathable? Of course, the real reason they're present is so they can go crazy and bark wildly, like in any scary movie.) Not the most profound story in the world, but a competent spine chiller.

Three stars.

Wonder Child, by Joseph Shallit


Cover art by Robert Frankenberg.

The January/February 1953 issue of the magazine supplies this account of an invention with unexpected effects.


Illustrations by Ed Emshwiller (better known as Emsh.)

A married couple would like to have a child, but they don't want to deal with all the work of raising it from infancy. They happen to know a scientist who has created a gizmo that will speed up the nerve growth of a fetus in the womb. Their son develops rapidly, sparing them a lot of trouble with things like toilet training.


He also develops a precocious interest in sex.

Despite some problems with teachers, neighbors, and other kids, things seem to be going pretty well. What they don't know is that their acquaintance is a classic Mad Scientist, who has also given the child increased aggression. It's not hard to see that things won't work out for the best.

I found both the technology and the behavior of the characters implausible. The ending of the story left a bad taste in my mouth. I suppose the author does a decent job portraying a pair of self-centered bohemian parents, but they're not much fun to read about.

Two stars.

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

Let's take a break from reprints and turn to the latest installment in this new novel.


Illustrations by Gray Morrow.

As you may recall, the improbably named Lafayette O'Leary wound up in a strange, supposedly imaginary world through self-hypnosis. He has some control over things, creating food, drink, clothing, shelter, and the like. However, the place has a stubborn reality of its own.

After surviving a duel in a slapstick fashion, he winds up being framed for the kidnapping of the land's beautiful princess. Much running around follows, with O'Leary even creating a secret door for himself, so he can escape into it.


He also briefly returns to the so-called real world, where he runs afoul of the law.

Determined to clear his name, he sets out to rescue the princess from a fabled giant and his supposed dragon. Complicating matters is the king's magician, who has more advanced technology than you'd expect in this steam-powered world, and who seems to know more about what's going on than he admits.


There's also a big guy.

The mood remains very light, with even more comedy than the first part.  The breakneck pace of events holds the reader's attention.  Even if the whole thing could be dismissed as much ado about nothing, it provides adequate, forgettable entertainment.

Three stars.

What a Man Believes, by Robert Sheckley


Cover art by Vernon Kramer.

Back to reprints with this tale of the afterlife, from the November/December 1953 issue.


Illustrations by Henry C. Pitz.

A guy who didn't expect anything after death winds up in an oddly accommodating Hell.  It seems he has a choice of eternal punishment: he can undergo physical torture, fight wolves, or drift in a boat.


He can also climb a mountain.

Predictably, he selects the boat, preferring endless boredom to unending agony.  This leads to an ending that, well, didn't make a lot of sense to me.  I suppose some irony is intended, but it falls flat.

Two stars.

Three Wishes, by Poul Anderson


Wraparound cover art by Richard Powers.

A nice old man makes an unexpected discovery in this yarn from the March/April 1953 issue.


Illustration by Dick Francis.

The elderly fellow is Papa Himmelschoen.  If that sounds familiar, you're probably thinking of Papa Schimmelhorn, a character created by Reginald Bretnor in the story The Gnurrs Come from the Voodvork Out back in 1950.  Anderson's old man has a similar thick accent, so I assume this is a deliberate allusion.

Anyway, the kindly Papa mends a pair of pants for a neighbor, and gets a little statue of a fairy as payment.  It comes to life when, in a burst of gaiety, he kisses it.  His reward is three wishes.  Since he's completely happy with his life, he doesn't know how to use his wishes.  The solution to his problem isn't completely satisfying, and involves a bit of circular reasoning.

This is a trivial work from a talented writer.  The mood is pleasant enough, and Himmelschoen is a lot less obnoxious than Schimmelhorn, but it doesn't add up to much.

Two stars.

Phoney Meteor, by John Beynon


Cover art by J. Allen St. John.

From the yellowing pages of the March 1941 issue of Amazing Stories comes this piece, by an author better known as John Wyndham.


Illustration by Jay Jackson.

Neatly wrapping up the magazine with an incident similar to the one I mentioned at the start of this article, this story involves a mysterious object falling to Earth.  Since the setting is England during the Second World War, the local folks treat it as a possible Nazi weapon. 

Alternating sections of narration reveal that it's really a spaceship, carrying a large number of aliens from their dying world.  It's obvious from the start, and the illustration, that they're tiny beings, so Earth seems like a planet full of giant monsters.

That's about all there is to the story.  Beynon/Wyndham writes well enough, but I found the accounts of life in England during the Blitz more interesting than the science fiction stuff.

(Everybody seems very coolheaded when faced with this potentially deadly object.  I suppose that's a bit of wartime propaganda, to maintain morale.  Keep Calm and Carry On, and all that.)

Two stars.

Did It Meet Your Expectations?

I wasn't expecting this issue to be so weak, ranging from so-so to below average.  I can understand the financial reason for using so many reprints — I believe the publishers have full rights to the stories and art, so they don't have to pay anything for them — but it results in a lot of disappointing early work from well-known writers.  If I were in a worse mood, I'd be tempted to tell the editor exactly where he can go with all these old relics.


Cartoon by Ray Dillon.  It's a reprint, too, from the same issue as Poul Anderson's story.






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[November 16, 1965] Crime and Punishment (January 1966 Worlds of Tomorrow)


by Victoria Silverwolf

Breaking The Law On Stage

An incident in the United Kingdom earlier this month caught my attention and made me think about the limitations on artistic expression. The play Saved by Edward Bond had its premiere on November 3rd at the Royal Court Theatre in London. What does this have to do with violations of the law? Well, that requires a bit of explanation, particularly for those of us on this side of the Atlantic.

You see, ever since 1843, all plays produced for the public in England have to be licensed by the Lord Chamberlain. (Please don't ask me to explain what a Lord Chamberlain might be. That's far beyond my feeble American mind.)

The current Lord Chamberlain refused to grant a license to Saved unless it were severely censored. The folks at the Royal Court Theatre put it on anyway, trying to get around the letter of the law by calling it a private performance. From what I hear, they're going to get in trouble with the authorities anyway.


A scene from the play, in which a baby is stoned to death. You can see why this might be considered controversial.

Justice Between The Pages

Fittingly, many of the stories, and even a nonfiction article, in the latest issue of Worlds of Tomorrow deal with criminals and crimefighters, in literal or in metaphorical ways.


Cover art by Mclane. Once again, the only thing I can find out about this artist is a last name.

Project Plowshare (Part Two of Two), by Philip K. Dick


Illustrations by Gray Morrow.

It takes a while for the crime aspect of this novel to show up. Meanwhile, let's recap a bit.

In the future, the Cold War has evolved into a purely symbolic struggle. Each side has a psychic who uses drugs to perceive visions of designs for weapons. The trick is that these things are really used to manufacture odd consumer items. The ruling government, capitalist or communist, fools the public into thinking it's winning the arms race. When threatening alien spacecraft show up, the two powers bring the psychics together, hoping that they will be able to come up with a real weapon.


The invaders, who never directly appear in the story.

Things get pretty darn complicated in the second half of the novel. We find out quickly that the weapon designs perceived by the psychics come from a trashy comic book, which doesn't offer much hope for victory against the aliens. They're a serious menace, as we learn when entire cities disappear behind obscuring mists. Meanwhile, romance blooms between the two psychics, leading to a classic example of the Eternal Triangle.


Jealousy rears its green-eyed head.

Add in androids and time travel, and you've got a convoluted plot that leaves the reader dizzy. Oh, and the criminal subplot I hinted at above? That comes in the form of a nasty fellow who, for his own petty reasons, plots to assassinate members of the government who rejected him. He even kills folks who were foolish enough to join his conspiracy.


A man and his gun.

The author tosses everything but the kitchen sink into this yarn. At times, I thought he was making fun of science fiction, given the large number of mixed-up SF elements. There's definitely a touch of satire here and there, but it's not a comic novel. Some parts, in fact, are tragic. It definitely held my interest throughout, even if the climax seems to be thrown together hastily.

Four stars.

The Sleuth in Science Fiction, by Sam Moskowitz

The indefatigable historian of fantastic fiction traces the development of detective stories in the field. Starting with a nod to Edgar Allan Poe, he delves into the dusty pages of very early pulp magazines. Much of the stuff he digs up has to do with lie detection technology. This article takes the reader up to about 1930, and a sequel is promised.

Moskowitz certainly has an encyclopedic knowledge of the subject. I can admire his scholarship, but the resulting essay makes for very dry reading.

Two stars.

Sunk Without Trace, by Fritz Leiber

The weird creatures on the cover of the magazine appear in this story. One of them has a dream about an object that landed on their world, while his more practical wife insists that he get back to processing the seaweed that serves as their food. It's clear from the start that the thing is a spacecraft from Earth — the editor's blurb gives it away, too — but the rest of the plot may be a bit more surprising.

There's not much to this work other than the premise and the setting, but those are intriguing enough to make it worth a look. Of course, Leiber is incapable of writing a bad sentence, so the style adds a lot. Overall, it's a decent effort from an author who often does much better.

Three stars.

At Journey's End, by J. T. McIntosh


Illustrations by Dan Adkins.

We jump right into a confrontation between criminals and law enforcement, in a particularly crude form, near the beginning of this story of a starship on its way to a new home for humanity.

After decades of travel, it seems that tensions among the crew have reached the boiling point. A couple of murders result, and the captain acts as judge, jury, and executioner, killing those guilty on the spot. Without giving too much away, let's just say that justice is truly blind here, playing no favorites at all.

After this grim opening, we watch the ship approach the planet. They have a big surprise waiting for them when they arrive. It all leads up to a darkly ironic ending.


Our three protagonists, awaiting their fate.

At first glance, I thought the first part didn't have much to do with the resolution. After musing over it for a while, however, I realize that the author intended the two scenes to provide a sort of thematic contrast. Some of what happens may be predictable. Taken as a whole, this is a serviceable, if undistinguished, story.

Three stars.

Stars, Won't You Hide Me?, by Ben Bova

In this case, the criminal is the human race as a whole, and the punishment comes from aliens determined to wipe out the entire species. When the story begins, in fact, there is only one human being left alive, alone in his automated spaceship, wandering through the cosmos in an attempt to escape judgment.

During his eons-long journey, which leads him across gigantic distances in space, he learns of humanity's crime and discovers what became of Earth. The climax leads to a final scene of almost unimaginable immensity.

The most notable thing about this story is the vastness of the author's vision. I don't think I've read anything that covers such enormous amounts of time, except maybe the works of Olaf Stapledon. In addition to that, there's a great deal of emotional appeal. If you think Bova is just a decent science writer, you may be surprised.

Five stars.

How To Understand Aliens, by Robert M. W. Dixon

Let's get away from criminology for a while and talk about linguistics. The author imagines the difficulty of communicating with the inhabitants of other worlds. As examples, he creates beings who spend most of their time burrowing underground, as well as aliens who fly. The point seems to be that culture has an important effect on language, and it's not just a matter of translating things word-for-word.

Dixon seems to know his stuff, as evidenced by his discussion of human languages unfamiliar to most speakers of English. The fictional aliens make the article more readable than just a dry discussion of the topic.

Three stars.

Buggaratz, by John Jakes

The military has its own system of justice, dealing with such crimes as lack of discipline. That's a problem for the commander of a small outfit on another planet. The only function of the unit is to produce inflatable uniforms as toys. Given this dull and trivial chore, it's not a shock to find out that things have gotten awfully lax around the place.

A visit from an inspecting officer threatens to expose how badly the situation has gotten out of hand. The presence of the habit-forming substance named in the title doesn't help matters.

This is a pretty silly comedy, with maybe a trace of satire directed at military thinking. It's an inoffensive bit of fluff, unlikely to make much of an impression on you.

Two stars.

Riverworld, by Philip Jose Farmer


Illustrations by Jack Gaughan.

As you may recall, one year ago the magazine offered Farmer's novella Day of the Great Shout, wherein everybody who ever lived on Earth was resurrected on a planet dominated by one huge river. This new tale takes place in the same setting.

The hero is cowboy movie star Tom Mix. Along with a woman who lived during the time of Moses, and a man who died nearly two thousand years ago, he sails down the river, escaping a brutal religious dictatorship. The trio join forces with some friendly folks from the Renaissance, and war breaks out with the bad guys.


A battle along the river.

There's lots of violent action, to be sure, but that's not really the most important part of the story. The author deals with religion in ways that may seem blasphemous to many readers.

The identity of the fellow traveling with Tom Mix is clear from the start, but I won't reveal it here. Suffice to say that this is likely to be the most controversial part of the story. The fact that the two men look almost exactly alike raises a lot of questions in my mind, which seem likely to remain unanswered.

Farmer has his hands on a strong premise here, with lots of possibilities. (Another story in the series is promised for the next issue.) I'll definitely keep reading to find out who else I'll run into along the river.

Four stars.

The Verdict

In the case of The People v. FP et al., the court dismisses all charges against PKD and PJF, with special commendation for BB. The other defendants are released with a warning to avoid tedium in the future, an admonition particularly directed at SM and JJ. The court further directs FP, leader of the accused, to retain the services of a good lawyer, in case of further charges in the future.


I don't think this guy ever lost a case.






[October 22, 1965] Yesterday, Today, and Tomorrow (November 1965 Fantastic)


by Victoria Silverwolf

Days of Our Lives

I'm stealing the name of a new soap opera, due to premiere on NBC next month, because it sums up the way that past, present, and future came together in the news this month.

Yale University put an item known as the Vinland Map on public display on October 12. This is a map of the world, said to date back to the Fifteenth Century, which seems to indicate that Norsemen visited the Americas long before Christopher Columbus. In case you're wondering about the date, it was Columbus Day, in a nice bit of irony.


A detail of the Vinland Map. That's Greenland to the right, and a chunk of North America to the left.

As you might expect, there's controversy over whether this is the real thing or a forgery. Today, nobody knows for sure if this visitor from yesterday is genuine, but maybe we'll find out tomorrow.

If authentic, the Vinland Map is a voice from the past. In a similar way, folks in the present are trying to send a message to the future.

On October 16, the penultimate day of the New York World's Fair, a time capsule was lowered into the ground. (A similar object was buried nearby, during the 1939 World's Fair.) It is scheduled to be opened in the year 6939. (I'm a little skeptical as to whether such a thing can really survive and be found nearly five thousand years from now, but I like the idea.) The contents include . . . well, see for yourself.


People in that distant era will also know that we weren't very careful about spelling.

The Beatles seem destined to represent the artistic achievements of our time, if somebody actually finds the time capsule, opens it, and figures out how to play a record. They are once again at the top of the American popular music charts this month, and show no signs of leaving that position any time soon.

The latest smash from the Liverpool lads is, appropriately, called Yesterday. Unlike their other hits, it's a slow, melancholy song about lost love. Paul McCartney plays acoustic guitar and sings, backed by a string quartet. The other Beatles do not perform on the record, so it's really a McCartney solo performance.


By the way, Act Naturally is a remake of a Number One song by Buck Owens. The Beatles go Country-Western!

Flipping Through the Calendar

Given the peculiarities of the publishing business, it's no surprise that I'm reading the November issue of Fantastic in October. With their policy of filling about half the magazine with reprints, it's also not a shock to discover that we go back in time to fill up the pages. First up, however, is a new story set in a strange world that mixes up the past and the present.


Cover art by Julian S. Krupa. It's actually taken from the back cover of the July 1939 issue of Amazing Stories.


Look familiar? We'll hear more about the Space Devastator later.

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


Illustrations by Gray Morrow.

Our hero is one Lafayette O'Leary, an ordinary working stiff, living in a crummy boarding house. He has a lot of intellectual curiosity, performing experiments in his tiny room and reading obscure books. He happens to find a Nineteenth Century volume on hypnotism, and learns about a technique whereby he can experience a dreaming state, while remaining aware that he is dreaming, and exercising some control over it.

(This isn't so crazy a premise as it might seem. More than fifty years ago, the Dutch psychiatrist Frederik Willem van Eeden coined the term lucid dream for such states of mind.)

Of course, he gives it a try. He winds up in a world that seems to be a bit medieval, a touch Eighteenth Century, a tad modern, and partly straight out of a fairy tale. The limitations on his ability to alter this dream world — if that's what it is — show up when he tries to give himself a set of fancy modern clothes, and winds up dressed like somebody in a swashbuckling movie.


Lafayette, ready for action.

At first, he enjoys the situation, happily replacing the lousy wine in a tavern with fine Champagne. Thought to be a wizard, he gets mixed up with the local equivalent of the cops. Still thinking this is just a dream, he tries to disappear, with only partial success.


Our hero tries to vanish, but can't quite do it.

Lafayette winds up in the palace of the King, where he is thought to be a prophesized hero, destined to save the realm from an ogre and a dragon. He also meets the King's magician, who seems to know more about what's going on than he admits. For one thing, he's responsible for the steam-powered coaches and electric lights in this otherwise nontechnological world.


The magician looks on as Lafayette admires himself.

Eventually, our hero meets the King's beautiful daughter, as well as the master swordsman who is her current boyfriend. Jealousy rears its head, and a challenge to a duel arises.

Lafayette assumes that his opponent, like everybody else in this world, is just a product of his imagination. Therefore, he reasons, the foe can't really be any better with a sword than he is. It looks like he might be in for an unpleasant surprise.


Tune in again for the next exciting chapter!

So far, at least, the tone of this novel is very light. Laumer almost seems to be parodying his own tales of the Imperium, with the protagonist finding himself in alternate realities. Unlike those serious stories, this one is a comedy. The people inhabiting the dream world speak in a mixture of archaic language and modern slang. The police are about as effective as the Keystone Kops. It's entertaining enough to keep me reading, but hardly profound.

Three stars.

Tomorrow and Tomorrow, by Ray Bradbury

The rest of the magazine consists of stuff from the old days, both the prose and the art. First we have a piece with a title that is fitting for my chosen theme. It comes from the May 1947 issue of Fantastic Adventures.


Cover art by Robert Gibson Jones, for what looks like a very odd story.

The protagonist is a would-be writer, reduced to pawning his typewriter due to his failure to find his way into print. (Surely based on the author's own early years, I assume.) He comes home to find a strange device. It sends him messages from the far future.


Illustration by Virgil Finlay.

Tomorrow's world is a dreary place, under the rule of a brutal dictator. A woman sent the machine back in time, insisting that the writer kill the remote ancestors of the tyrant. If he doesn't, the woman will be executed. If he does, the future will change, and she won't remember him at all. Since he's fallen in love with her, he will lose her either way. Besides this dilemma, he faces the moral crisis of murdering two innocent people.

This early work shows Bradbury developing his style, although it is not yet fully formed. You may think that's a good thing or a bad thing. Either way, it's got some emotional appeal, some passages of poetic writing, some implausibilities, and some lapses in logic. The ethical problem at the heart of the story — would you kill Hitler's ancestors? — is an important one, but here it's mostly used as a plot point.

Three stars.

I'm Looking for "Jeff", by Fritz Leiber

From the Fall 1952 issue of Fantastic comes this horror story, created by a master of the macabre (and other things.)


Cover art by Leo Summers. The Capote story is his very early work Miriam, which is a fine, eerie tale.

A bartender claims that a mysterious woman shows up regularly, although the owner of the joint can't see her. The reader is aware right from the start that she's a ghost.


Illustration by Emsh.

She uses her feminine wiles to pick up a customer, offering her affection in return for a promise to do something particularly violent to somebody named Jeff. The fellow, entrapped by her seductive charms — even the scar that runs across her face doesn't mar her beauty — agrees. He encounters Jeff, and makes a terrifying discovery.

There are no surprises in this variation on the classic theme of vengeance from beyond the grave. What elevates it above the usual ghost story is truly fine writing. The woman's first appearance, when she is a barely detectable wisp, is particularly fascinating.

Four stars.

Wild Talents, Inc., by Robert Sheckley

The September/October 1953 issue of Fantastic supplies this comic yarn.


Cover art also by Leo Summers, what little you can see of it.

As you'd expect, the company named in the title deals with people who have psychic powers. It's pretty much an employment agency for such folks. Their latest client presents a problem.


Illustration by Emsh

It seems the fellow can observe anyone, at any location. Unfortunately, he's very much an oddball. His only interest is in recording their sexual activities in excruciating detail. The guy in charge of the company has to figure out a way to protect the public from this Peeping Tom, while making use of his peculiar ability in an acceptable way.

The whole thing is pretty much a mildly dirty, mildly clever, mildly amusing joke. You might see it as a spoof of the kind of psi-power stories that appear in Analog far too often. A minor effort from an author who is capable of much sharper satire.

Two stars.

Tooth or Consequences, by Robert Bloch

Another comedy, this time from the May 1950 issue of Amazing Stories.


Cover art by Arnold Kohn

It starts off like a joke. A vampire walks into a dentist's office . . .. It seems even the undead need to have their cavities filled. The vampire also swipes blood from the supply kept refrigerated in the same medical building. When the red stuff is then secured under lock and key, to prevent further thefts, the vampire tells the dentist he better get some of it for him, or else. There's a twist at the end you may see coming.

I suppose there's a certain Charles Addams appeal to the image of a fanged monster sitting in a dentist's chair. Otherwise, there's not much to this bagatelle.

Two stars.

The Eye of Tandyla, by L. Sprague de Camp

We go back to the May 1951 issue of Fantastic Adventures for this sword-and-sorcery yarn, one of a handful of stories in the author's Pusadian series. (The best-known one is probably the novel The Tritonian Ring, also from 1951.)


Cover art by Robert Gibson Jones

The setting is far back in time, long before recorded history. (The story goes that de Camp wanted to create a background similar to the one appearing in Robert E. Howard's tales of Conan, but in a more realistic fashion.) A wizard and a warrior must steal a magical gem from the statue of a goddess for their King, or be executed. Their plan involves disguising themselves with sorcery and sneaking into the place.


Illustration by Virgil Finlay.

To their amazement, it proves to be really easy to grab the jewel. So simple, in fact, that they smell a rat. They cook up a scheme to put the gem back in its place, steal a similar one from another place, and present that one to the King instead. Complications ensue.

You can tell that this isn't the most serious story in the world. The plot resembles a farce, with its multiple confusions and running back and forth. It's got the wit often found in Fritz Leiber's work of this kind, but not quite the same elegance. I'd say it's above the level of John Jakes, or even — dare I say it? — Howard himself, if not quite up to the very high standard of Leiber.

Three stars.

Close Behind Him, by John Wyndham

The January/February issue of Fantastic is the source of this chiller.


Cover art by Robert Frankenberg. The so-called new story by Poe is actually Robert Bloch's completion of a fragment.

Two crooks rob the house of a very strange fellow. The guy catches one of them in the act, so the hoodlum kills him.


Illustration by Paul Lundy.

The pair make their getaway, but are followed by blood-red footprints wherever they go. You can bet things won't go well for them.

This is a pretty decent horror story, nicely written, although — once again! — not up to the level of Fritz Leiber, particularly since we've got an example of his excellent work in the field of tales of terror in this very issue.

Three stars.

Space Devastator, by Anonymous

I'm not sure if I should even mention this tiny article, excerpted from the pages of the July 1939 issue of Amazing Stories.


Cover art by Robert Fuqua.

Anyway, it's less than a page long, and speculates about a huge station in orbit, equipped with a bunch of big mirrors.


Illustration by Julian S. Krupa

The notion is that such a thing could destroy entire populations from space by focusing the sun's rays and burning up cities. Casual mention is made of the fact that it could supply solar energy as well. I suppose it's imaginative for 1939, but it's so short — the original version was probably somewhat longer — that you can't get much out of it.

Two stars.

What Day is Good for You?

Today comes out a big winner over Yesterday and Tomorrow in this month's Fantastic. Leiber's contemporary ghost story is clearly superior to tales set in the future or in the legendary past. Otherwise, this isn't that great an issue, ranging from OK to below average.

You might well get more entertainment out of an award-winning film, such as this Italian comedy, which got the Oscar for Best Foreign Language Film last year. Sophia Loren plays three different women, and Marcello Mastroianni three men, in a trio of lighthearted tales of love.


For some reason, every poster I've seen for this movie features Loren in her underwear. I wonder why that might be.

And you'll definitely enjoy the next exciting musical guest episode of The Journey Show, October 24 at 1PM Pacific!






[September 24, 1965] False Advertising (Frankenstein Meets the Space Monster and a brief history of Mary Shelley's creation on film)


by Victoria Silverwolf

The Big Bang

Just about a century and a half ago, the largest volcanic eruption in recorded history occurred on the island of Sumbawa, in what was then part of the Dutch East Indies. Mount Tambora exploded on April 5, 1815. Something like one hundred thousand people died as a result of the disaster, either by the direct effects of the eruption, or from disease and starvation due to the severe change in the environment. The volcano ejected so much material into the atmosphere that global temperatures were reduced to a significant degree for a year or more. In the Northern Hemisphere, 1816 is often known as the Year Without a Summer. Crop failures and famine resulted in Asia, Europe, and North America.


A map of the island, published in 1855. Note the large crater left behind by the explosion.

So what does this horrible tragedy have to do with with a cheap science fiction movie? Well, it's a long story.

Now is the Summer of Our Discontent

In the spring of 1816, Percy Shelley and his teenage girlfriend Mary Wollstonecraft Godwin paid a visit to Lord Byron, along with some other folks, at a mansion known as the Villa Diodati, near Lake Geneva in Switzerland.


Looks like a nice place for a vacation, if it weren't for the bad weather.

Thanks to Mount Tambora, the following summer was wet and cold. Instead of enjoying the outdoors, this group of literary intellectuals had to amuse themselves inside the house. Lord Byron proposed that they each write a scary story. Shelley and Byron only produced fragments, while fellow houseguest John William Polidori came up with The Vampyre, the first modern vampire story and a possible influence on Bram Stoker's famous 1897 novel Dracula. Far more important than this, however, was the classic work created by Mary Godwin (later married to Shelley, and better known to us as Mary Shelley.)

The Modern Prometheus

First published anonymously in 1818, the novel Frankenstein is too well known to require any description here. Suffice to say that it was an immediate critical and popular success.


The first edition.

As early as 1823, it was adapted for the stage by Richard Brinsley Peake under the title Presumption; or the Fate of Frankenstein. Shelley herself witnessed this production.


A playbill from the original staging.

It's Alive!

Many other versions of the story reached theaters in years to follow. The first cinematic adaptation arrived in 1910, in the form of a brief film from Edison Studios.


A still of Charles Ogle in the role of the Monster. This film is now thought to be lost, but maybe a copy will turn up some day.

Of course, things really got going with the famous 1931 movie starring Boris Karloff. Many sequels followed, as any fan of the syndicated television program Shock Theater can tell you. For the record, the series from Universal Studios consists of The Bride of Frankenstein (1935), Son of Frankenstein (1939), The Ghost of Frankenstein (1942), Frankenstein Meets the Wolf Man (1943), The House of Frankenstein (1944), and House of Dracula (1945). (Despite not being named in the title, the Frankenstein Monster does appear in the latter film.)

For some reason, the studio never completed the obvious trilogy with a film called House of the Wolf Man, but maybe some enterprising film maker will come up with something in the future.


Elsa Lanchester as the Bride of Frankenstein. The lady has style.

Things got a lot less serious with Abbott and Costello Meet Frankenstein (1948). (Somewhere along the way, the name of the creator got mixed up with the name of the creation. The two comedians didn't actually meet the man called Frankenstein, but rather the Monster he created.)

Nearly a decade went by before the Monster was revived by the British studio Hammer, with The Curse of Frankenstein (1957), followed by The Revenge of Frankenstein (1958) and The Evil of Frankenstein (1964). Meanwhile, low budget American productions showed up, including I Was a Teenage Frankenstein (1957), Frankenstein 1970 (1958), and Frankenstein's Daughter (1958).


Christopher Lee as Hammer's version of the Monster.

From Mars to Puerto Rico


For some reason they didn't give me my Space Shield Eye Protectors.

The latest film to cash in on Mary Shelley's creation, Frankenstein Meets the Space Monster, arrived in American movie houses just a couple of days ago. At this point, you may want to throw rotten fruit and vegetables at me, because I've made you suffer through my lengthy introduction for no good reason.

Neither Frankenstein nor his creature appear in the movie.

So why the title? I'll get to that in a moment.

We begin aboard an alien spaceship. The trailer for the movie claims they're from Mars, although this is not explicitly stated in the film itself. In command is a woman who is always addressed as Princess. (The end credits call her Princess Marcuzan, but this name is never mentioned in the movie.) In the tradition of women from outer space, she's a beauty, dressed in a skintight catsuit, a wispy cape, and an odd-looking hat.


Marilyn Hanold, Playboy magazine's Playmate of the Month for June, 1959, as Princess Marcuzan.

Assisting her is a little fellow called Doctor Nadir. He seems to be in charge of destroying Earth missiles soon after takeoff. (This is conveyed to the audience through the use of stock footage of rockets blowing up. I'd say that at least half of this movie consists of stock footage.)


Lou Cutell as Nadir. It's nice to see someone who really enjoys his work.

There are a few other Martians on board as well, who share the same bald head and pointed ears as Nadir. Most of the time, you can't tell they're not Earthlings, because they wear very NASA-looking spacesuits and space helmets.

Back on Earth, an automobile full of military types and science types drives very slowly towards Cape Kennedy. We get to see a lot of space-themed businesses on the road, such as the Satellite Motel, the Polaris Motel, and a burger joint that has what looks like a map of Mars for an entrance. In an odd scene, one of the military guys asks our film's Lady Scientist how she's doing, and she says nothing at all. I have no idea what that was all about.

Anyway, after an excruciatingly long car ride, we arrive at a press conference, where we get introduced to astronaut Colonel Frank Saunders (does his first name suggest anything to you?) and a scientist with the very masculine name of Adam Steele.


From left to right, Military Guy, Lady Scientist, Astronaut, and Manly Scientist.

Things go OK at the press conference, until Frank answers a question from a reporter with a mild joke, followed by a wide grin. The film freezes, and we think that maybe something has gone wrong in the projection room.


Would you buy a used car from this man?

It turns out that Frank has frozen in place. The science types hustle him out of the room, and we see them open up his head on an operating table. Don't worry, you won't see any gore; Frank is actually a robot.

You see, because all those American rockets are blowing up, NASA wants to send a machine to Mars instead of a human being. (And you wondered where your tax dollars were going.) The one little flaw in this plan is that nothing prevents the Martians from blowing up Frank's rocket as well. He crashes on Puerto Rico, badly messed up by the accident in both body and mind.


Frank after the explosion. He's had better days.

Frank goes on a rampage, killing folks at random. In the movie's most gruesome scene, we see him attack a guy with a machete (off screen, thank goodness.) At some point, Lady Scientist says he's like a Frankenstein, in a feeble attempt to justify the movie's title.

Meanwhile, the Martian spaceship lands on Earth. An expository speech from the Princess to her crew (who should already know all this) reveals that a big war on Mars resulted in victory for her side, but left the planet without any females except herself. The plan is to kidnap nubile human females and use them for reproductive purposes.


The Martian spaceship, which looks way too small to hold all the folks we see inside it.

It probably won't surprise you to find out that many of these young ladies arrive wearing bikinis. Given this fact, a scene of a bunch of young folks dancing, and a recurring rock 'n' roll song on the soundtrack, you can classify this film as a Beach Movie.


The Princess inspects the first captive.

While this is going on, Lady Scientist and Manly Scientist track down Frank with some kind of electronic gizmo. This involves the two of them leisurely riding around Puerto Rico on a little motor scooter while a love song plays on the soundtrack. This suggestion of a romance between the two never really develops into anything.


Suddenly the movie turns into a travelogue.

They find Frank, and somehow change him from a homicidal maniac back into a nice robot. The pair foolishly split up, and Lady Scientist gets kidnapped by the Martians. She's locked up in a cage next to our Space Monster, the oddly named Mull. This critter is a skull-faced thing with big claws, and would make a pretty good Hallowe'en costume.


Would you buy a used spaceship from this monster?

A few minutes before the end credits, our pseudo-Frankenstein finally meets the Space Monster. You can probably guess how things turn out.

Obviously, this is a cheap, silly little movie, best enjoyed as a source of derisive laughter. I doubt it will be the last Frankenstein-related film we'll ever see, and it may not even be the worst. (Frankenstein's Daughter is a strong contender.) I understand there's even a Japanese-American co-production, already released in the Land of the Rising Sun, but not yet in the USA. Keep watching the movie listings in your local newspaper!


A scene from Furankenshutain tai Baragon, as the film is known in Japan.



We'll be discussing better movies, I hope, and more at our next Journey Show: At the Movies!

DON'T MISS IT!