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[May 2, 1966] By Any Other Name (June 1966 IF)


by David Levinson

That which we call a purge

Successful revolutions often seem to devolve into vicious internal fighting as various factions turn on each other. Many of us are old enough to remember Stalin’s purges in 1937, and I’m sure we all remember learning about the Reign of Terror during the French Revolution when we were in school. Now it looks as though China may be gearing up for some purges of its own.

The five year plan of 1958, dubbed the Great Leap Forward, proved to be a disaster. The plan’s policies produced three years of famine, killing an untold number of people. As a result, Communist Party Chairman Mao Tse-tung stepped back and left the day-to-day running of the country to Liu Shao-ch’i and Teng Hsiao-ping. But Mao may be attempting to seize the reins of power once again.

Last November, an opera by a playwright named Wu Han was attacked as being subversive and critical of Mao’s leadership. On April 10th, the Communist Party issued a directive that condemned almost all literature written since the end of the revolution as “anti-party and anti-socialist.” Every author and poet is now considered suspect. Six days later, poet and journalist Teng T’o was chastised as counterrevolutionary in the official government newspaper. On the 18th, the new movement was given a name in the army’s daily newspaper: the Great Socialist Cultural Revolution. Now, President Liu Shao-ch’i, Mao’s chosen successor, has been publicly criticized as a capitalist and insufficiently supportive of Mao. I’d say the purges are about to begin. It remains to be seen just how bad they will be.


Chairman Mao Tse-tung (r.) and President Liu Shao-ch’i (l.) meet last year with Prince Sihanouk of Cambodia (in the dark jacket).

Smells, sweet and otherwise

This month’s IF offers a mixed bouquet. Overall, it’s visually disappointing, and a couple of the blossoms really could have used a different name.


This allegedly illustrates “The Weapons That Walked”. It doesn’t. Art by McKenna

Mandroid, by Piers Anthony, Robert E. Margroff and Andrew J. Offutt

In the forests of Oregon, the last two humans left alive, Bill Jackson and Tony Baker, finish killing the last android. The androids were created as servants, but were made to be stronger, faster and maybe smarter. Eventually, a war of extinction broke out when the androids asked for equality. Suddenly, the narrative is interrupted by a click, and strange voices which speak in the present/past/future ponder their failure in getting Man and Android to mate. And the story begins again from a little earlier. And so it goes, each time getting a little closer to success, but ending in failure. Finally, one of the strange voices concocts a dangerous plan. If it fails the fabric of TimeSpace will be/is/was ripped beyond repair.


Bill and Tony are observed from outside of time and space. Art by Gaughan

Mandroid sounds like a B-movie from a decade ago. And with three authors, you wouldn’t be at all surprised by something that schlocky. While Margroff only has the sub-par “Monster Tracks” to his credit, and I’ve not read either of the stories credited to Andy Offutt, Anthony (a Cele Lalli discovery) has produced some good work. Maybe it’s his hand that keeps all these cooks from spoiling the broth. This is a good story with a couple of flaws that keep it from reaching four stars. The first is the heavy-handed Biblical allusions at the end; the second, unless I’m reading something that isn’t there, is the veiled hints at Bill’s sexuality that promote some unpleasant stereotypes.

Three stars.

Fandom U. S. A., by Lin Carter

This month, Our Man in Fandom takes a look at fan clubs. Carter takes a quick look at some of the better known clubs on the east and west coasts and in the mid-west, and then talks about what happens at meetings, whether they be formal or informal. It’s a handy resource that could help a lot of people in the States to find a club near them and maybe encourage others to start a club. Plus, Carter finally has a handle on his voice.

Three stars.

The Weapons That Walked, by D. M. Melton

Explorer Joe Hanley’s landing craft fails on the way down to Kast III, and he’s forced to bail out. Unfortunately for Joe, the scouting group on Kast IV is in even worse shape, and the main ship has to go to their aid first. Joe is going to have to make do on his own for several days. Fortunately for Joe, he grew up among the redwoods of northern California and he’s one of the few nature-lovers left. He’s got a plan and this planet might be just what he’s looking for. But then the animals in the area start acting as though they’re being directed by some greater intelligence.


Joe encounters a local predator. Art by Adkins

From the title, you’d expect something from 1926, illustrated by Frank R. Paul, that Joe Ross would think twice about before reprinting it in Amazing. It’s better than that. This is Melton’s second story, following “The Fur People”. Like that story, it’s fairly unobjectionable and shows promise. Better, the female character actually has a name. Showing promise is all well and good, but Melton needs to improve if he wants to stick around.

A low three stars.

The Dream Machine, by Carol Easton

Harry Carver invents a machine that allows users to have extraordinarily real dreams of the things they want. There are consequences.

Easton is this month’s first-time author. I’m not impressed. There are one or two decently written passages, but that’s it. There aren’t really any characters, there’s no actual story (just a recounting of events) and it’s painfully obvious where things are going.

Two stars.

Sweet Reason, by Christopher Anvil

Dr. Garvin, a human psychologist, has come to observe the work of Centran military psychologist Major Poffis. The Centrans have astonishingly high success rates, achieved quickly. Garvin observes the Major treating a patient and the two discuss the theory and practice of psychology. Are human and Centran approaches compatible?


The Centran patient, prior to his treatment. Art by Nodel

Why wasn’t this in Analog? I’m sure I’ve read most of the criticisms of psychology as a science in Campbell’s editorial rants, and the quality is about what Campbell usually gets out of Anvil. A couple more stories like this and we can officially say that Campbell has ruined Anvil as a writer.

Two stars.

Earthblood (Part 3 of 4), by Keith Laumer and Rosel G. Brown

When last we left our hero, Roan’s ship had been disabled by a Niss warship, he had shot his mentor and now had to leave behind his only friend, Iron Robert, who can’t fit into a lifeboat. Under Roan’s leadership, the crew is able to board the Niss ship, only to find it uninhabited. It was the automatic defenses that destroyed Henry Dread’s ship. Fortunately, there is another Terran ship aboard for Roan and his crew to commandeer.

Roan’s first stop is his homeworld. He learns of his mother’s death, but is able to track down his family’s Yill servant. He makes his way to the shop where his parents bought his embryo and learns he was the only viable embryo out of several. He also finds out he came from an ITN experimental station on Alpha Centauri. That means a very long run through backwater territory to find out where he came from.

Nearly a decade later, he and his crew reach his destination. Roan would like to go on alone, but his three most loyal crewmen insist on accompanying him. Eventually, they reach naval headquarters on Nyurth. It turns out that the Imperial Terran Navy has grown decadent and is riven by factions. Most notably, Captain Trishinist believes Roan to be part of a large conspiracy to assassinate Admiral Starbird and seize control of the navy. The Admiral has grown old in service, but still has a plan and a hidden fleet to retake Earth. Time and politics have kept him from ever carrying it out. Now he places it all in Roan’s hands. That evening, Commodore Quex tries to arrest Roan, but Roan and his crew escape easily. To be concluded.


Roan leads with his left. I picked this one as representative of how bad the art is. Art by Wood

Well, this is a big improvement over the last two installments. It’s not without its flaws. When Roan learns that the family servant was originally part of the group sent to acquire his embryo, he fails to ask who hired them. There is also some confusion about time. The run to Alpha Centauri is nearly ten years, but Roan says it’s been four years since Dread’s death. In addition, there are inconsistencies in the relationships and communications between Naval HQ at the end and Rim HQ, which Dread worked for. Hopefully, those things will be cleared up by an editor before book publication.

Despite those flaws, this is a very good installment and gives me hope for the story as a whole. Laumer is much more present this time, in the various military plans and action sequences. But what makes it better is all Rosel Brown. Roan is greatly matured here, more introspective, and the story is improved for it.

Four stars.

By Mind Alone, by Larry Niven

In 1972, a group of UCLA students who have learned the mental power of teleportation and the professor who taught them are having a weekend party in Lake Arrowhead, up in the San Bernardino mountains. When the cigarettes run out, they can’t get more, because it’s Sunday and the stores are all closed, so their hostess teleports back to her parent’s home in Hermosa Beach. But when she arrives, she is stricken by an almost fatally high fever, which quickly diminishes. The professor puts a halt on all teleportation until they can figure out what happened. Have they violated some heretofore unknown law of the universe, or are they being punished for hubris?

Niven has given us a decent little problem story. He’s clearly inspired by Alfred Bester’s The Stars My Destination and, not to give too much away, if he’s right, then Gully Foyle would be nothing more than some soot and a thin smear of organic matter after his first jaunt. I think the “magic” method of teleportation weakens the story somewhat, but it’s still a fun read. I’d like to see how someone using a more scientific approach would solve the problem revealed here.

Three stars.

Summing Up

A rose, Shakespeare says, by any other name would smell as sweet. But if it were called a dungflower, might those who stopped to smell it find the scent sweeter, because of low expectations, or maybe not as sweet, since something with that name can’t possibly smell good? I find myself wondering how much my opinions of the first two stories are influenced by their B-movie and Gernsbackian titles. What we call a thing can make a difference, and boy do those stories need to be called something else.

On the art front, Galaxy Publishing needs some new blood. The sub-par comic book stylings of Wally Wood and Dan Adkins are a waste of space and ink. Jack Gaughan’s abstract elements and heavy blocks of black are often oppressive and rarely fit the mood of the story they illustrate. When Norman Nodel produces the best illustrations in your magazine, it’s time for a change.


Been a while since we’ve seen something from Blish.





[April 2, 1966] Hidden Truths (May 1966 IF)

Don't miss tomorrow's exciting Adventure-themed episode of The Journey Show, taking you to the highest peaks, the deepest wildernesses, the coldest extremes, the vacuum of space, and the depths of the sea.  April 3 at 1PM — book your (free) ticket for adventure now!)



by David Levinson

They’re on our side (I believe)

There’s no question that French President Charles de Gaulle has a larger-than-life, albeit rather prickly, personality. It stood him in good stead through the War and in midwifing the Fifth Republic a few years ago. It’s also a big part of what underlies his “politics of grandeur”. Alas, it also makes him a sometimes troublesome partner on the world stage. As early as 1958, he was urging a greater role for France in NATO, kicking against the traces of the Anglo-American “special relationship”. In 1959, he pulled the French Mediterranean fleet and air defenses from NATO command and banned the United States from positioning nuclear weapons in France. A year later, he even tried to renegotiate the NATO treaty, but no other member nation supported him. He was fairly quiet during the Kennedy administration and showed great solidarity during the Cuban Missile Crisis, but he’s up to his old tricks again.


French President Charles de Gaulle announcing that France will go her own way.

In February, de Gaulle declared that the changed world order has “stripped NATO of its justification” and demanded French control of all foreign troops and bases in France when the current NATO agreement ends in 1969. Apparently, he decided that was too far in the future. On March 7th, he ordered all foreign troops and equipment removed from France by next year. Two days later, France formally withdrew its officers from the NATO unified command, assumed full control of the 70,000 French troops in Germany and announced that they will close all allied bases that don’t surrender to French control. President Johnson appears to have taken all this with the poise of a matador performing a verónica, with the faith that de Gaulle can be brought around in a time of need, though there is a rumor he instructed Secretary of State Dean Rusk to ask if that withdrawal includes the thousands of American war dead in French cemeteries. “De l'audace, encore de l'audace, et toujours de l'audace.”

Unearthing the past

Oftentimes, what we think we know about the past and how we got where we are is simply wrong. Learning the truth may make us change our course, shatter our identity or turn the whole world upside down. Quite a lot of this month’s IF features characters facing the consequences of just such a revelation.


Supposedly from Silkies in Space. Silkies don’t need spacesuits. Art by Schelling

Silkies in Space, by A. E. van Vogt

Nat Cemp is a Silkie, a genetically engineered human who can adapt his body so that he can live underwater or in space as easily as he can on land. While walking down the street, he encounters a man who appears to be his twin and delivers an ultimatum to Nat. All Silkies are to end their association with humans and return to the nation of Silkies or be deemed traitors. Around one fifth of all Silkies have had a similar experience at roughly the same time. The Silkie nation is traced to a planetoid that travels from outside the orbit of Neptune to inside that of Mercury, and Nat is sent to investigate. What he discovers will have enormous consequences, not only for the 2,000 Silkies of Earth, but for the entire planet.


Gregor Samsa… er, Nat in spacegoing form enters the mysterious planetoid. Art by Gaughan

This is a direct sequel to “The Silkie” from a couple of years ago. While this story largely stands alone, it might make more sense if the first story is fresh in your mind. Parts of it are quite good, other parts (mostly when Nat starts using his mental powers) rather confused and nonsensical. As we’ve discussed many times here at the Journey, van Vogt is a polarizing writer. Oddly, I find myself in both camps. There are stories I like a lot, but I’m also put off by his long fascination with supermen and his strong association with dianetics. There are bits here, like the “logic of levels” where I wonder if I’m being spoonfed Hubbard’s nonsense, and it detracts from the whole. The story goes completely off the rails at the end, as well. I’m waffling on the score, but I think I liked it just enough. Barely three stars.

The Historian, by Carroll J. Clem

We open with a chapter from a history book telling us that as humanity spread to the stars, no intelligence was found to equal man’s own. A few vignettes of humans engaging in the worst forms of colonization and oppression follow. The story concludes with the historian discussing his work with the people who commissioned it.

Clem is this month’s new writer. Stylistically, it’s decent and it’s short, but it’s also fairly obvious. Again, I find myself wavering on the score, but the fact that the author felt compelled to spell out the ironic twist is a mark against it. A high two stars.

The Hide Hunters, by Robert Moore Williams

Ed Grayson is exploring the Amazon, looking for the next big psychedelic drug. When the old chief of the tribe he is staying with begs the use of Ed’s rifle to kill the hide of his dead grandson, Ed is appalled. Later, he finds the chief skinning his grandson and horrified by the strange white filaments connecting the skin to what is inside it. His partner McPherson returns by helicopter and is worried by Ed’s behavior. Ed is going to return to civilization with the helicopter, but a poison dart attacks and kills the pilot. McPherson tries to fly them out and instead crashes near some ancient ruins, where they find Egyptian hieroglyphs and something much more disturbing.


An injured Grayson waits for his partner’s return. Art by Adkins

If Weird Tales were still publishing, this would have fit right in. The story clearly shows Williams’ roots in the pulp days, but is reasonably well updated for today, apart from the Egyptian hieroglyphs. Why not something Incan? One the whole, this is a decent representative of stories of this kind. Too bad the attack on the pilot makes absolutely no sense. Still, it’s three stars.

An APA For Everyone, by Lin Carter

Building on his look at fanzines last month, Carter takes a look at amateur press associations, an idea that goes back nearly a century. Unlike fanzines, which will send a copy to anybody willing to pay the postage, APAs limit circulation to a limited group of contributors who must submit a certain number of pages every month. There are even waiting lists for people to join. Carter examines some of the bigger APAs in fantasy and science fiction, as well as what drives someone to contribute to them. His breezy style is slightly tempered from last time, but it still grates. Three stars.

Mountains Like Mice, by Gene Wolfe

Dirk is being prepared for his Retreat by Otho the Captive. If he can avoid being found for the two months it will take for the dye to wear off, he will become a Master. That night, Otho leads him to the spot where his Retreat will begin at sunrise. Later, he sees what he thinks is Otho being captured by the gyrda, a race of people half the height of a normal person. He tracks them into the mountains with the plan of rescuing Otho. In the end, things known to Dirk are revealed to the reader, and he gains deeper insight.


A captive of the gyrda. Art by Lutjens

Wolfe is unknown to me, but after some digging I see that he had one previous sale to the “gentlemen’s” magazine Sir!. If he can write like this so early in his career, I foresee big things. He’s clearly in love with language and words, and every sentence is beautifully crafted. I don’t claim to really understand the metaphor of the title or the implications of the final paragraph, but the journey there is incredibly beautiful. Four stars.

Golden Trabant, by R. A. Lafferty

A man enters Patrick T. K.’s store to sell a huge lump of greenish gold, clearly of extraterrestrial origin. We then learn of the unscrupulous men seeking the legendary golden asteroid and the consequences of their success.

This is an unusually traditional story for Lafferty, but it still has his unique touch. Of course, it’s largely a retelling of F. Scott Fitzgerald’s The Diamond as Big as the Ritz without the romance and with a few Lafferty-esque bits. This might be a good starting point for someone who has never read Lafferty and is concerned about some of the things they’ve heard. Three stars.

Earthblood (Part Two of Four), by Keith Laumer and Rosel G. Brown

Last time, Roan, a purebred Terran who grew up among aliens, was forced to join an interstellar circus. There he met the beautiful Stellaraire and rescued her from the villainous Ithc. Now he has hatched a plan for the two of them to escape so that he can make his way back to his mother and then find lost Terra. Those plans are thwarted when Iron Robert, the rock creature who was Stellaraire’s only friend, is grievously injured in a fight. At Roan’s insistence, Robert is brought aboard the ship and nursed back to health, rather than being left behind to die.

En route to another stop, the ship is attacked by the pirate Henry Dread. Many are killed when the ship enters emergency acceleration, and the rest are gunned down by Dread’s crew. Roan is spared, because he is fully human, as is Iron Robert again at Roan’s insistence. But Stellaraire was killed, crushed by a falling beam. Dread views the world divided into three groups: Terrans, Gooks, who are humanoid and may have some Terran in them, and Geeks, the rest of the aliens. And for him only Terrans matter, so he takes Roan under his wing.

Dread takes Roan along on a raid of the old imperial capital of Aldo Cerise. Roan saves Dread’s life and afterward Dread reveals that he is actually a member of a group calling themselves the Terran Navy, supposedly formed from the remnants of the old navy thousands of years ago. He inducts Roan and explains that he’s on a long mission recruiting and financing. Eventually, they find a Niss ship and Dread’s hate leads him to make a foolish attack. Roan winds up killing Dread in an attempt to save Iron Robert, but in the end, Robert must be left behind on the dying ship while Roan leads a desperate raid on the Niss ship, their only hope for survival. To be continued.


Iron Robert meets his match. Art by Wood

Well, that didn’t go how I expected. After last month, I was sure I could see the course of this story. The circus ship would prove to be an extremely powerful warship that Roan would use to break the Niss and Stellaraire would prove not to be a sterile mule. Instead, she’s dead and the ship was about as effective in combat as a Greek trireme against an Iowa-class battleship. In fact, almost everyone who ever supported Roan is dead. His father, Stellaraire, Iron Robert (presumably) and Henry Dread.

Last time, I also expressed concern about the human superiority that was expressed. Some of that is there again, but it’s more clearly an ugly thing. Roan lashes out once at Iron Robert with the vile language Dread uses, but immediately regrets it, and his constant support of Iron Robert shows his real attitudes. I’m more hopeful.

I still don’t see much Laumer here, other than in names (Groaci and Aldo Cerise this time) and the presence of Bolos. And it looks like Wally Wood is indeed the artist for the illos. Three stars.

Summing up

Not as good an issue as last month, certainly. But Earthblood looks like it will be much more than I expected, and we have an interesting new voice in Gene Wolfe. If he can hone his craft a bit more and keep his beautiful language, he may be a force to be reckoned with.


No hype at all for next month? That’s not a good sign.





[March 2, 1966] Words and Pictures (April 1966 IF)


by David Levinson

For a lot of people, February tops the list as their least favorite month. In the northern hemisphere, it’s cold and dark, and spring seems a long way off. The only things to break up the monotony are Valentine’s Day, which isn’t for everybody, and (most of the time) Carneval or Mardi Gras, which in the United States only matters if you’re near New Orleans and for lots of practicing Christians is immediately followed by giving up something nice for Lent.

As I look over my notes of newsworthy events for the last month, I see the usual things – coups, politics and power plays – but nothing that really catches my interest. Oh, there’s a couple of things that might develop into something, but they need time to come to fruition. Fortunately for my purposes, Fred Pohl has accidentally given us a little artistic puzzle to talk about, but let’s save that for the end.

The Words

In this month’s IF, the big Heinlein serial draws to a close and a brand-new serial begins. As does a new non-fiction series on fandom. Plus a new Saberhagen story. It’s a lot to whet a reader’s appetite, even if the cover is a bit mediocre. But that’s where our art mystery begins.


Roan’s first day on the job isn’t turning out well. Art attributed to Morrow

Earthblood, by Keith Laumer and Rosel George Brown

Millennia before our story starts, humanity went to the stars and found all other intelligent species still planet-bound. They formed a vast interstellar empire and ruled half the galaxy until the Niss came, shattered the human empire and ultimately blockaded humanity on Earth. Now the only humans at large in the galaxy are at the bottom of the socio-economic scale and most are heavily adapted to the planets they live on, with very few resembling the original terrestrial strain.

As the story opens, Raff Cornay, a human, and his wife Bella, a Yill, have come to Tambool to purchase an embryo to raise as their son. At great sacrifice, they wind up with a pure Terran stock human intended for the personal service of a recently toppled high official. What follows is a series of vignettes as Roan grows up, largely among the avian gracyl. At the age of 16, he tries to sneak into a circus, but is caught. In the ensuing fracas, his father is killed and Roan is dragooned into joining the Grand Vorplisch Extravaganzoo as a roustabout, sideshow attraction and high-wire walker. He meets and is befriended by the beautiful Stellaraire, seemingly a pure Terran human like him, but according to her a throwback and a sterile mule. It turns out the ship is a former Terran battleship. I’m sure that will be important later. At the end of the episode, Roan saves Stellaraire’s life and she asks him to take her back to her tent. To be continued.


Tarzan… er, Roan learns to fly. He’s supposed to be 10. Art attributed to Nodel

I’m very much of two minds about this story. On the one hand, it’s a decent, if slightly pulpy, science fiction Bildungsroman. Beyond the names of some alien species (I recognized both Niss and Soetti) and maybe some of the action, I don’t see a lot of Laumer here. The writing and the plotting feel like they’re mostly from Rosel Brown. In general, that’s a good thing.

On the other hand, Roan gets a lot of stuff about human superiority pounded into him as he’s growing up. It’s uncomfortable language that we hear all too often in real life as an argument against civil rights and equality. It’s certainly possible that Roan will eventually come to see that every species has something to offer galactic society. Unfortunately, most of the aliens seem more like intelligent animals than sentient beings. They rely as much on instinct as they do intellect. Roan’s boss in the circus is confused by his need to practice; either he can do something or he can’t. That seems to be saying that humans really are superior.

Three stars for now.

Castles in Space, by Alma Hill

Aboard the Star Ship Sazerac, King Gurton Redbeard of Sazerac and King Karl of Ship Avlon are meeting over a game of chess, hoping to agree to a protocol which will allow them both to mine the asteroid swarm they are in without fighting over it. They are served by Redbeard’s daughter Kafri, and he offers her to Karl’s son in marriage to form a political alliance. As she wanders the ship late at night, trying to come to terms with her role as a bargaining chip, Kafri discovers that her father’s plan is not as it seems. Now she must make a decision as to which side she will support.

Long-time Boston fan Alma Hill was last seen with her rather disappointing ”Answering Service” in January of last year. This story, however, is quite good. Kafri is no mere political pawn, and this is very much her story. She’s decisive, active and drives the plot. Hill also took the story in a slightly different direction than I thought she was going, based on the ship name Avlon. A very solid three stars.

Our Man in Fandom, by Lin Carter

The first in a series intended, according to the introductory blurb, to teach casual readers “about fandom – what it is – and why”. Both F&SF and Amazing have gone down this road in some form or other in recent years. Here Carter traces one branch of fandom from the letter columns of the 20s and 30s to the fanzines of today. It’s a bit overly breezy and glib at points, but perhaps slightly less superficial than some of its predecessors. Once he gets through with the history and starts talking about current zines like Yandro and Amra, Carter offers a decent read. We’ll see how he does with other contemporary matters. Three stars.

In the Temple of Mars, by Fred Saberhagen

The Nirvana II, the new flagship for High Lord Felipe Nogara, is being brought to him beyond the edge of the galaxy. Aboard it, a prisoner named Jor is being brainwashed by the head of the Esteeler secret police to kill someone. Admiral Hemphill is the acting captain, and there are some other familiar faces. There are plots within plots. One faction hopes to rescue Johann Karlsen from his doomed orbit around a hypermassive star, while another has taken to worshipping the Berserkers, possibly in the hope of being declared goodlife. Everything comes to a head long before the ship reaches its destination.


Jor trains for gladiatorial combat to please the High Lord. And for something else. Art by Gaughan

This is a direct sequel to The Masque of the Red Shift and also features characters from Stone Place. No knowledge of those stories is needed to enjoy this one, but it would give this more weight. Another solid outing in the Berserker saga, with a couple of weaknesses. The extensive quoting from The Knight’s Tale, sometimes in the original Chaucerian English, feels a bit overdone. It was clearly part of Saberhagen’s inspiration and I applaud him not assuming we’ll all remember it from high school, but some cuts would help. And though the story comes to a definite conclusion, there is clearly more to tell. I suspect a fix-up novel in the not too distant future. Three stars.

The Pretend Kind, by E. Clayton McCarty

Little Tommy Wilson says he had a long chat with God in the woods down by the river. Despite efforts by his parents to get him to admit it’s just a story, he sticks to his guns. A neighbor and friend who is also a child psychologist is brought in to delve into this delusion. Things are not as they seem.

A generally forgettable story with an ending that can be seen from miles away. The biggest problem is that nobody actually listens to Tommy (not that it would have changed anything). The parents can be forgiven. They’re worried about their son either clinging tightly to a lie or going off to the woods with a stranger. But a psychologist, child or otherwise, should be listening to what his patient is telling him, and that doesn’t happen. Not good, not bad. A low three stars.

To Conquer Earth, by Garrett Brown

The Glom have arrived on Earth and they expect us to aid them in their galactic war. Landing for some inexplicable reason in Tierra del Fuego, the commander, Captain Crunch, eventually makes his way to President Hubert H. Hubris. Things do not go at all as expected.

Garrett Brown is this month’s first time author. I’d say his biggest influence here is Philip K. Dick, though this is nothing like a Dick story. It’s just the way most of the characters act. The concept isn’t terrible and in the hands of Ron Goulart or Keith Laumer, or better still Robert Scheckley this could have been really good. Alas, it is not. Two stars.

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

As the last episode ended, Earth forces had landed on the Moon to put down the Lunar rebellion. The fight is intense, but not overly long, since the Earth troops are ill-prepared for low gravity. There are a number of casualties, among them Adam Selene. Mike has decided it’s time for Adam to become a martyr to the cause. Now it’s time for Luna to retaliate with rocks hurled from the cargo catapult. Mike and Prof have established a grid of targets all around the planet, designed to strike uninhabited areas (with the exception of the NORAD base at Cheyenne Mountain). The bombardment goes on for days and Earth strikes back again. In the end, Manny is alone at the secondary catapult, cut off from Mike, Prof and Wyoh. The fate of the revolution is in his hands.


The pressure begins to wear on Manny. Art by Morrow

Oh my, what a finish. I have something to point out here and I’ll be circumspect, but I don’t want to lessen the impact of the ending. If you haven’t finished the story, skip down to the next paragraph. I don’t really think of Heinlein as a writer who evokes a lot of emotion apart from maybe a firm-jawed sense of justice or a manly swell of pride. But here, oh here, I’m not ashamed to admit the ending made me choke up. If only he could have dropped the last two paragraphs.

All right, safe for the uninitiated to read on. The novel shows Heinlein’s strengths and weaknesses to great effect. His ability to make the reader want to keep turning the page is here in full force, but it does get a little talky and some of the ways he presents women are questionable. Nevertheless, I’d say the strengths far outweigh the weaknesses. Plain and simple, this is the best thing Heinlein has written since Double Star, maybe ever. This could be his masterpiece. Five stars for this part and for the novel as a whole.

The Pictures

I promised you a bit of an art mystery. You may have noticed that under the cover and the illustration for Earthblood I said that the art is “attributed to” rather than “by”. Let’s start with the cover, said to be by Gray Morrow. But it really doesn’t look like his work. He favors strong, clear lines, rather than the slightly fuzzy work we see here. Frankly, it looks more like the work of Norman Nodel.

Interestingly, Nodel is given as the artist for the interior illustrations, yet this looks nothing like Nodel’s usual work. Indeed, it looks a bit more like Morrow’s work. It’s tempting to say they just swapped the artist names. But this also doesn’t look like Morrow’s work to me. The lines are there, but it’s sloppy in ways Morrow usually isn’t. The illo I included is supposed to show a ten-year-old boy, not a full-grown man. And look at these two excerpts.


Art attributed to Nodel

These are supposed to be the same character at the same age. That age is supposed to be 16. Ricky Nelson there on the left might be 16, but Superman there on the right is 40 if he’s a day. If it’s not Morrow, then who? The other two artists in Fred Pohl’s main stable are Jack Gaughan and John Giunta, but both their styles are different. Right now, my best guess is Wallace Wood. Hopefully, we’ll find out next month, since the serials are given to a single artist.

Summing Up

All in all, a pretty good issue. There’s only one real stinker and while some of the others aren’t quite as good as they could be, they could also be a lot worse. The Heinlein serial has been the high point since it began and has outshone everything else alongside it. It does again this month, but this time it’s a diamond set in silver, not the tin that has mostly surrounded it.


I fear next month may be something of a downturn.






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


by David Levinson

Dodging the issue

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

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


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

A long tradition

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


Bergdoll’s original wanted poster.

The issue at hand

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


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

The Long Way to Earth, by John Brunner

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

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


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

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

Ouled Nail, by H. H. Hollis

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

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

Dam Nuisance, by Keith Laumer

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


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

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

Draft Dodger, by Kenneth Bulmer

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

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

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

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

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


The Earth strikes back! Art by Morrow

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

Summing Up

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


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





[January 4, 1966] Keep Watching the Skies (February 1966 IF)


by David Levinson

I’m sure many of the Journey’s readers will remember the 1951 film The Thing from Another World, which featured Marshal Dillon himself, James Arness, as an alien super-carrot. Based loosely on John Campbell’s novella Who Goes There?, it’s a fine piece of Red Scare paranoia, though not quite as good as Invasion of the Body Snatchers. Once the heroes have defeated the alien menace, reporter Ned “Scotty” Scott broadcasts a warning to the world to “Keep watching the skies!”

Great Balls of Fire

1965 has been a good year for watching the skies. From the return of American astronauts to space after a hiatus to the brilliant display of Comet Ikeya-Seki. The year wrapped up spectacularly in December. As my colleague Victoria Silverwolf reported, a brilliant fireball shot through the heavens over Ontario, Michigan and Ohio before crashing near Kecksburg, Pennsylvania. Despite rumors, no sign has been found of Russian satellites or little green men. Then on Christmas Eve, a meteor exploded over the village of Barwell, England. This time numerous pieces made their way to Earth. No one was injured, but there was some property damage. Pieces have been found, confirming the object was a stony meteorite of the sort known as a chondrite.


Meteorite hunters descend on Barwell.

Death from above and below

There’s plenty of menace from the skies in this month’s IF. Actually, the threat is mostly humans attacking other humans, but not always. Sometimes it’s humans attacking aliens.


A triphib attacks. The story isn’t as Burroughs-esque as you might think. Art by Pederson.

Prisoners of the Sky, by C. C. MacApp

Six hundred years before the story begins, a colony ship from Earth reached the planet Durrent. The planet is low in metals and has a very dense atmosphere. Humans can live comfortably atop the numerous mesas, while the heavy air and vicious wildlife make the lower elevations dangerous. Mesa Mederlink is out to conquer the world, and Mesa Lowry is under siege, unable to get the guano they need for fertilizer.

Altern Raab Garan is under a cloud. The fleet led by his father several years ago was wiped out by Mederlink and there is suspicion of treason. Raab has proposed a lightning raid by a single airship out to the guano islands in the hopes of obtaining the fertilizer the mesa needs to continue holding out. He’s been given a chance, but the ship is old and poorly armed, the crew is largely civilian volunteers, one of his officers hates him and there may be a traitor on board.


This minor incident doesn’t cover even a full page, but it seems to have caught the imagination of both artists. Art by Morrow

This is actually a rather good story. MacApp has borrowed a lot from various submarine films and has done a good job of getting the tension of those films on the page. It’s nowhere near as pulpy as the art might make you think. My biggest complaint is that the author forgot about the extremely dense atmosphere and the climax mostly takes place at sea level. The story ends on a cliffhanger, so we can probably expect more. A solid three stars.

Build We Must, by Dannie Plachta

Inspired by the theory that the moons of Mars are actually space stations, the unnamed narrator became an astronaut. On the first mission to Mars, the crew is met by Martians and the narrator is chosen to make first contact.

Plachta’s sophomore effort is a joke story. In fact, it’s basically his first story retold with the shocker reframed as a punchline. At least it’s mercifully short. Plachta does seem to have some skill, but it’s time for him to put it to better use. Two stars.

The Kettle Black, by Steve Buchanan

Xenologist Stade is on his deathbed, waiting on a visit from Witten. As he waits, he reflects on the mission they were on together only a year earlier. Along with the third member of the team, Skinner – a cyborg whose only organic parts are his brain and spinal column – they discovered a planet with a civilization just short of space travel. Initially, things go well, and Stade makes excellent progress in establishing relations with the natives and learning their language. When he is invited to attend a ceremony, Skinner overrules him and goes in his place. The natives attempt to kill Skinner and the humans wage a three-man war to return to their ship.


Human-native relations take a turn for the worse. Art by Nodel

Buchanan is one of two first time authors in this issue. I’m not terribly impressed. The story plods, even during the action, and I had a very hard time keeping the characters straight. It is apparent from the ending that the author thinks he has made an important point about modern race relations, but I certainly can’t tell what it might be. Two stars.

Nine Hundred Grandmothers, by R. A. Lafferty

Ceran Swicegood is a Special Aspects Man. Unlike his fellows, he refuses to take on a manly name like Manbreaker Crag or George Blood. The expedition he’s on is investigating the large asteroid Proavitus. Ceran is interested in the native claim that they never die and is eager to meet some of the eldest of the race to find out how they came to be.

Lafferty is Lafferty, and you either like his stuff or you don’t. There’s no middle ground. This isn’t really one of his better pieces, lacking a lot of that quality of oddness which is his trademark. Even Homer nods, and mediocre Lafferty is still worth a read. Three stars.

Not by Sea, by Howard L. Morris

In an alternate timeline, Sir Hubert Wulf-Leigh is a decadent drunkard who works a few hours a day as a Confidential Clerk to the Board of Lord High Admirals. Through a rather brilliant bit of intelligence work, he determines that Naflon the Usurper, King Elective of Fraunce, is planning to invade England using hot air balloons. Not believed at first, when he’s proven right Hubert is put in charge of the defense of Plymness, where the Freunch do indeed attempt their landing.


I’m not even going to try to come up with a better caption. Art by Gaughan

Morris is the second newcomer this month. The story is light and largely comedic. Its greatest flaw is that the author goes far too often to the well of the English tendency to pronounce names oddly. Wulf-Leigh is pronounced Wilfly, Mountcourtenay is Munkertny and so on. The joke gets old fast and there’s a tendency to repeat it several times for the same character. It’s also a little long. That said, it does read easily. A low three stars.

The Peak Lords, by Miriam Allen deFord

A young man claiming to be the son of a Peak Lord who was kidnapped and left Below among the mutants is making his statement in court. From him, we learn how a few powerful individuals fled growing pollution by retreating to ever higher altitudes, eventually warring over the limited space and taking on retainers, while the rest of humanity was slowly mutated by the foul air and water. Eventually, we learn the truth of his kidnapping.

The best thing I can say for this story, is that deFord has perfectly captured the voice of an arrogant, entitled young man. Unfortunately, that makes for a very unpleasant narrator. On top of that, most of his statement is the worst sort of “As you know, Bob” rehashing the history of his people with no point other than to inform the reader. Worst of all, the story relies on a typographical trick at the end to achieve its impact. If only it were as simple as some screaming italics and an excess of exclamation points. Two stars.

The Moon Is a Harsh Mistress (Part 3 of 5), by Robert A. Heinlein

In the previous installment, preparations for the Lunar revolution were proceeding apace. Companies created by computer intelligence Mike were financing recruitment and the construction of a secret orbital launcher for throwing rocks at Earth if necessary. As we left our heroes. Mannie dropped in to visit a friend who works as a judge. An event which would have a great effect on the course of the revolution.

A group of youngsters have dragged in a tourist who got a little too friendly with the girl at the core of their group. They want to stuff him out an airlock, but feel the need to go through proper procedures first. Since the judge is off drinking his lunch, Mannie agrees to hear the case. He succeeds in resolving the situation peacefully, teaching a lesson to both the tourist and the stilyagi who dragged him to court. Said tourist proves to be one Stuart Rene LaJoie, Poet – Traveler – Soldier of Fortune, a wealthy Earthman who will become the revolution’s chief lobbyist and advocate back home.

Stu gives Mannie a chance to expound on the role of women in Lunar society, the economics of the Moon and much more. At long last, we finally find out the meaning of TAANSTAFL, seen on the cover of the issue with the first installment: There ain’t no such thing as a free lunch. There is always a hidden cost to something claimed to be free.

Before the revolutionaries are really ready, the balloon goes up. A group of Peace Guards rape and kill a young woman, and the Loonies explode. Mannie, Mike and the Prof are able to direct the flood of rage, and Lunar Authority goes down easily. The hard part is yet to come when Earth responds. They attempt to keep the lid on, with Mike faking normal communications Earthside, but a group of Earth scientists manage to get a message back home. Meanwhile, Prof gets a sort of ad hoc congress to issue a declaration of independence, largely cribbed from the American Declaration, on July 4th, 2076. Finally, Mannie and Prof are preparing to be smuggled down to Earth in a grain shipment, and the night before they leave Wyoh is brought into Mannie’s family.


This won’t actually happen until next time, but the other illustrations aren’t very good. Art by Morrow

Once again, Heinlein take what should be a dry recitation of people sitting around talking about politics and sociology and grabs readers’ attention and keeps them turning the page. It’s a remarkable skill and one he’s shown too little of in recent works. The events of the revolution are exciting, too, but we see them at a bit of remove. Our protagonists are too important to be involved in the fighting, though Mannie does see some of it from the sidelines. The only real complaint for me is that Wyoh largely moves into the background. Four stars.

The Warriors, by Larry Niven

In deep space, a kzinti warship has discovered a strange vessel. Alien Technologies can detect no weapons, and Telepath reports the beings aboard are peaceful. Captain is delighted, sensing the opportunity to bring in a new slave world and earn himself a name. He orders the use of inductors to raise temperatures on the alien ship to kill everyone aboard, so that the kzinti can learn as much as possible about their prey.

Aboard the Angel’s Pencil, the human crew are puzzled by their inability to communicate with the alien ship. They assume it must be a question of technology. There hasn’t been a war among humans in over three centuries, and there hasn’t been a murder in well over a century and a half. In fact, most people never even learn about war and the less pleasant aspects of history. Hostility is the furthest thing from the crew’s minds.

Another solid outing by Niven. His kzinti are a pretty good answer to John Campbell’s challenge to write aliens who think as well as a man, but not like a man. These catlike people are predators through and through, and Niven does a good job of telling us things about their society without excess exposition or characters talking about things they all know. He’s a little less successful at that when telling us about the peaceful human society. It’s a good story that could, perhaps, have used a final bit of polish to really make it shine. A solid three stars.

Summing Up

There we have it. Another base of not very good stuff with a smattering of decent, if nothing special, stories. Only the Heinlein really stands out. That alone might be worth your 50¢. I recently heard a rumor that Fred Pohl uses IF for stories from name authors they can’t sell elsewhere in the hope they’ll also sell him their good stuff. I’m not sure that’s the way to run a successful magazine.


Hope springs eternal.





[December 2, 1965] Superiority Complex (January 1966 IF)


by David Levinson

Some people are objectively better at some things than everybody else. Sandy Koufax can pitch a baseball better than almost anybody, and Muhammad Ali is arguably the best boxer we’ve seen in his weight class in a long time.


The problem arises when that excellence in a specialized area leads to an assumption of excellence in other, unrelated areas. I certainly wouldn’t turn to either of the aforementioned men for suggestions on nuclear policy or to bring peace to South-east Asia. Worse still is when whole groups assume superiority over others based solely on an accident of birth.

Heart of Darkness

Last month, I discussed the difficulties faced by the United Kingdom in handing over power to the locals in Rhodesia due to an unwillingness on the part of the white government under Ian Smith and the Rhodesian Front to share power with Black Rhodesians. Alas, the situation has now collapsed completely. On November 5th, the colonial governor declared a state of emergency, blaming Smith and two African nationalist organizations, the Zimbabwe African People’s Union and the Zimbabwe African National Union.


Ian Smith signs the Unilateral Declaration of Independence

On the 11th, the Smith government unilaterally declared independence. Within hours, the United Nations Security Council condemned the action 10-0 with France abstaining. British Prime Minister Harold Wilson has been granted the authority to rule Rhodesia by decree, though what good that might do is hard to see. Wilson steadfastly refuses a military solution and expects economic embargoes to force Smith to capitulate. But with two neighboring nations, South Africa and the Portuguese colony of Mozambique, more than willing to ignore any embargoes, it is likely to be a long time before we see a resolution to this situation.

Conflicts Great and Small

Fittingly, there’s plenty of superiority, assumed and otherwise, in this month’s IF. Let’s get to it.


This art for “Cindy-Me” bears absolutely no relation to the story. Art by Morrow

Moonrakers, by Poul Anderson

At some point in the past, a terraformed Mars broke away from Incorporated Earth. The asteroids were colonized from there, and now, while the larger asteroids like Ceres and Pallas remain loyal to Mars, the smaller bodies are seeking their independence. The asterites are pirating Martian shipping to Jupiter with the tacit support of Earth. Because Mars has privatized most government functions, the Interplanetary Shippers’ Association has hired private investigator James Church to solve the piracy problem. His solution proves to be rather unorthodox.


An asterite salvager makes a big score. Art by John Giunta

Initially, I wondered why this story didn’t appear under Anderson’s Winston Sanders by-line, but the differences soon became apparent. Most notably, he seems to pointing out several of the flaws in his noble asterite society in that series. Earth is also somewhat less awful.

Just as a fix-up novel consists of several short pieces cobbled together to make a book, one could argue this is a fix-up novelette cobbled together from several vaguely connected vignettes without the benefit of any connecting material. We jump from incident to incident with few clues as to how we got there or how it all hangs together. This might work better fleshed out to full novel length. On the whole, it’s not objectively terrible, but I expect better from Poul Anderson. Just barely three stars.

Cindy-Me, by Don F. Briggs

Cindy and her twin brother, our unnamed narrator, are on the run from Old Ralph and trying to get to Aunt Ag. They have incredible psychic powers, but even that might not be enough to evade Ralph and his Watchers.

Briggs is this month’s first-time author. I’m not terribly impressed. The pieces don’t really fit together very well, and the tone shifts a few times. Some of that is due to the author’s attempt to play with the reader’s expectations, but he doesn’t quite achieve his aim. The title and references in the story make the twins sound like a gestalt being, but they come off as two individuals. They also grow increasingly unpleasant, which is part of the point, but they’re hard to take. Two stars.

The Moon Is a Harsh Mistress (Part 2 of 5), by Robert A. Heinlein

Last time around, Heinlein introduced us to the Moon of 2075, a penal colony on the edge of a revolution. At the end of the installment, Mannie, a computer technician, is dragooned into leading said revolution by his tutor, Professor de la Paz, a subversive from Hong Kong Luna named Wyoming Knott, and an intelligent computer nicknamed Mycroft.

Begin Part Two:

Mannie, Wyoh and Prof discuss political philosophy for a while, and then Mike is brought into the conspiracy. He predicts food riots in seven years and cannibalism in less than ten. He also calculates that a rebellion has about a one in seven chance of success and is a bit puzzled when his friends find those odds acceptable. Loonies are gamblers by nature.

What follows is a summary of eleven months of revolutionary organization and planning. Mike creates the persona of Adam Selene to head the revolution. They set up a few fake companies with the purpose of funding the revolution and building a secret electromagnetic cannon, because Mike says they will need to “throw rocks” at Earth. Also of note is the recruitment of eleven-year-old red-head Hazel Meade to oversee the children being used to distribute subversive literature and follow guards. Mannie, Wyoh and Prof start wearing heavy weights, since Mike predicts that at least one of them will need to visit Earth at some point. As the installment ends, Mannie drops in to visit a friend who acts as a judge. This will apparently have a great effect on the course of the revolution.


Our four protagonists. Art by Morrow

There’s not much to say about this one, since it’s just Heinlein setting the final pieces on the board. With any luck, the action will get under way next time. As a standalone, the installment suffers, though it’s actually enjoyable. I’m sure when it’s all together between two covers you won’t even notice.

But that does give me a chance to talk about Mannie’s voice. The Loonie patois is composed of American and Australian vernacular (Mike is a “dinkum thinkum”) and a few Russian loan words along with some Russian grammar, like the lack of definite articles. It works very well and is much easier to read than the Nadsat of A Clockwork Orange. Mannie is one of Heinlein’s best narrators in a long time.

Of final note is young Hazel Meade. I’m pretty sure we’ve met her before. At least, I can think of another Hazel with a family of red-heads and a granddaughter named Meade. She also says her name is on the monument to the revolution back on Luna. Yes, I’m fairly sure this is Grandma Hazel from Heinlein’s The Rolling Stones.

As noted, not much happens, but it has that Heinlein readability. Three stars.

Mr. Jester, by Fred Saberhagen

A severely damaged Berserker has its brain placed in a new ship. This flips a switch installed by the Builders during the testing phase of their destructive creations. A switch that renders the Berserker harmless. Meanwhile on Planet A, which has been cut off from contact with the rest of the human galaxy for a while, a man is accused of making jokes. As punishment, he is sent to an observation post on the edge of the system, where he encounters the harmless Berserker. Together they return to Planet A.


Oh, that’s not creepy at all. Art by Gaughan

This story bears a lot of similarities to Harlan Ellison’s Repent, Harlequin. Indeed, had they come out a year apart, rather than a month, I’d suspect one of inspiring the other. Maybe Fred Pohl suggested the same story seed to both authors. I’ve regularly praised Saberhagen for bringing something fresh to this series every time. The story is still fresh, but for me it doesn’t quite work. It’s not something I can really pin down, but this is the least of the Berserker stories, and I prefer Harlan’s take on the concept. Just barely three stars.

A Planet Like Heaven, by Murray Leinster

On the planet Dorade, the Dorade Corporation harvests kamun logs from a deadly, mobile tree using animal workers. As usual, the Home Office sends new instructions with the regular ship and only delivers them just before departure to keep the local managers from objecting. Headquarters is demanding a doubling of production and has instructions on how to achieve this. Orders which appall local manager Chalmers and head overseer of the workers Burke. Neither man feels he can defy orders, since that would mean quitting and then they’d have to pay for their passage back home, which would bankrupt them. The next ship brings no less than the president of the corporation, who takes charge of the operation, disgusted by the local men’s failures.


Chalmers and one of his best workers. Art by Adkins

Murray Leinster has been off his game lately. Here, he returns to form at long last. This is a good story that makes its point clearly and reasonably consicely. Alas, while it’s obvious from the text, it’s never explicitly stated until the final line that the workers are elephants. The illustration gives that away and detracts somewhat from the punch of the ending. A pity, but still a solid three stars.

The Smallness Beyond Thought, by Robert Moore Williams

Two scouts are hiking a desert canyon, collecting rocks. Finding an interesting piece of quartz, they pull out an odd device to test it. After this, we are given the history of the strange hermit who has lived here for decades beyond memory and built a number of strange structures and walkways that go nowhere. He also seems to be friends with the local rattlesnakes. Finally, we meet Ed Quimby, the number two man at the nearby observatory, who befriends the hermit after a fashion, and unwittingly gets involved when an outsider seems to be after the hermit.


Someone approaches the smallness beyond thought. Art by Gaughan

Williams presents us with a number of mysteries and resolves none of them. We learn nothing about the hermit, the (possibly two groups of) people after him or why they want him. We do learn the function of the odd structures, but nothing of their purpose. On top of that, the hermit has an incredibly annoying accent. And this all goes on and on for over thirty pages, leaving us none the wiser as to what has happened. A very low two stars.

Summing Up

Well, the stories this month are certainly full of people exerting an assumed superiority over others, from government goons to corporate heavyweights. And just like in real life, they’re frequently very wrong. Unfortunately, this time out the stories produced aren’t all that great. Let’s put this one in the books and hope for better efforts (and some actual action from Heinlein) next month.


At least it doesn’t seem to be a Gree story.





[November 2, 1965] Revolution! (December 1965 IF)


by David Levinson

Americans have an odd relationship with revolution. They’re quite proud of their own, but extremely leery of anyone else’s. But revolution seems to be the natural order of things in the 20th century. Not all of them have been violent, nor have all of them been political. And no doubt we will see many more – political, scientific, economic, social and even sexual – before the decade, let alone the century is out.

Revolution turned upside-down

Since the end of the War, the major colonial powers of the 19th century have been gradually handing over control of their colonies to the native people. It hasn’t always been voluntary, nor has it always been smooth. But the British seem to be doing better than the others at handing over power. Most transitions have gone smoothly, though not perfectly. Until now.

Negotiations have been ongoing with Rhodesia since last year. The sticking point has been an improvement in the status of Black Rhodesians and an end to racial discrimination, insisted on by the United Kingdom. The white Rhodesian government led by Prime Minister Ian Smith is vigorously opposed the idea of equality for Blacks.

Talks broke down on October 8th over the issue of majority rule. With rumors circulating that Rhodesia will declare independence, the U. N. General Assembly voted 107-2 to call on the United Kingdom to use military force to prevent such an event. Ten days later, the Organization of African Unity passed a similar declaration. British Prime Minister Harold Wilson has gone to Rhodesia to continue negotiations, apparently without success. On the 30th, Wilson gave a press conference before returning home in which he stated that a unilateral declaration of independence would be treason, but that the United Kingdom would rely on trade sanctions and ruled out the use of military force against “kith and kin”. A peaceful resolution does not seem to be at hand.


Harold Wilson (l.) and Ian Smith (r.)

Revolutions start to finish

Americans may not like the idea of revolution in the real world, but as part of their national mythology it turns up frequently in fiction. This month’s IF is filled with revolution, both political and otherwise.


There’s no clue what this odd revolutionary slogan means. Fred Pohl promises an answer next month. Art by Morrow

The Moon is a Harsh Mistress (Part 1 of 5), by Robert A. Heinlein

In 2075, the Moon has been a penal colony for nearly a century. A prison without walls or guards, because there’s nowhere to run, and after just a few months, permanent physiological changes caused by the low gravity mean no one can go back to Earth. That means that many people living there are free men and women descended from former prisoners, but still subject to the Lunar Authority.

One such is Manuel Garcia O’Kelly-Davis. Mannie, who lost his left arm in a mining accident and has several interesting prosthetics, is a computer repairman. One of his jobs is maintaining the Lunar Authority’s central computer, a High-Optional, Logical, Multi-Evaluation Supervisor, Mark IV – a HOLMES FOUR. Somewhere along the way, so many different modules were added to the computer it gained consciousness. Only Mannie has noticed and dubbed this new “person” Mycroft, Mike for short, after Sherlock Holmes’s smarter brother. Mike is quite the joker, with a fondness for practical jokes and puns, but he’s lonely, since everyone else is too stupid to have figured out that he’s alive.

At Mike’s request, Mannie attends a political meeting where he is introduced to Wyoming Knott, a rabble-rouser from Hong Kong Luna, and runs into his old teacher, Professor Bernardo de la Paz. After Wyoh (as she prefers to be called) gives a stirring speech encouraging revolution against the Authority and the Prof agrees with her goals but pokes holes in her methods, the meeting is broken up by the Warden’s goons and turns deadly.

Mannie helps Wyoh escape and, while they’re hiding out, introduces her to Mike, who eventually creates a feminine personality called Michelle to talk to Wyoh. The next day, they meet with the Prof and have a discussion about revolution. Mannie and Wyoh exchange a knowing look when the Prof points out the importance of communications; that’s one of Mike’s bailiwicks. After the Prof expounds on the idea of revolutionary cells, Mannie suggests a few improvements and suddenly finds himself nominated to head the revolution. To be continued.


Mannie wearing his Number Three arm. Art by Morrow

All but the most rabid Heinlein fans will agree that his last few novels have been uneven at best. But this is Heinlein at his best. We have the standard Heinlein characters here: Mannie, the competent man who mostly goes along to get along until pushed to do more by circumstance; Wyoh, the strong, beautiful, brilliant woman who does the pushing (though not a love interest so far); and the Prof, the older man who loves teaching and the sound of his own voice. Mike is a bit different. He obviously has a role to play, but we need to see more.

Not much really happens in these 50 pages, but Heinlein keeps you reading, even through long discussions of Lunar marriage customs and revolutionary organization. And once again, Heinlein has slipped a minority protagonist into his work. Mannie is not only Latin as his name suggests, but he probably counts as Black, with a grandfather deported from South Africa. When he first sees her, Mannie notes that pale, blonde Wyoh is clearly first generation since the genes tend to get all mixed up pretty quickly, so most of the people we meet are probably of mixed race.

Four stars and I’m eager to see more.

Security Syndrome, by Gerald Pearce

Professor James Brown has arrived at the regional headquarters of the Society to report someone as politically unreliable: himself. Despite his double-A rating, he feels that his sensitive position and his exposure to older texts full of “unescoism” have rendered him unfit. To say more would give the whole story away.

The United States has clearly undergone a revolution prior to the time of this story. The unnamed Society merely advises the government on the political reliability of citizens, and we hear of a second Bill of Rights, which includes a guarantee of “freedom from seditious, false and heretical doctrines”. It also seems that Brown’s actions are going to trigger another revolution.

This is a good story, though not without problems. I had some difficulty keeping the various Society members straight, and the story sagged in places. Still, a solid three stars.

Toys for Debbie, by David A. Kyle

Six-year-old Debbie Curtis likes to play with toys for both girls and boys, but she does have a tendency to break them. Insurance salesman Mr. Black has offered her father some excellent terms and occasionally drops by with a present for Debbie. What could be the harm?

I often complain that an author has attempted a “Twilight Zone ending”, an ironic twist that hasn’t really been set up. Long-time fan David Kyle (who most recently appeared in these pages as an artist) has written what would be an excellent episode of The Twilight Zone. It’s easy to imagine Rod Serling popping up at the end to offer a terse epilogue. Every moment is earned, and it ends not with a twist, but a shudder. Three stars.

St. George and the Dragonmotive, by Robert F. Young

Lieutenant George St. George of the International Pastpolice has gone to sixth century England to investigate an anachronism. There he meets a few knights, including one from Camelot, hunting for a dragon which has devoured a fair maiden and several peasants, who miraculously remain “on live”. The dragon proves to be a train, resembling the Stourbridge Lion, driven by a young woman he dubs Cassiana Jones. Train-lover George must work his way into her favor to track down the source of this industrial revolution.


An unusual comic style for Gray Morrow, but the best thing about this story. Art by Morrow

Typically for Young, the protagonist is an addlepated twerp. Worse, though he falls in love with the engineer, it’s clear he’s more in love with the idea of driving a train. Worse than that, she doesn’t get a name in her own right until the very end. It’s also far too long for such a thin story. Two stars.

The Girls on USSF 193, by Stephen Goldin

Astronauts are coming back from their tours of duty in space with weakened hearts, because they won’t do the cardiac exercises prescribed by the National Space Agency. Director Jess Hawkins came up with a plan that is dubious to say the least, morally questionable and probably illegal.

You sometimes hear the phrase “sexual revolution” about changing attitudes towards sex. In the past it’s sometimes meant being open about what people are doing anyway, and sometimes it’s about real changes in sexual attitudes. This story dabbles in the latter, but is highly implausible. It hinges on a career bureaucrat making a move that puts his job on the line, a job he knows others are gunning for.

Goldin is this month’s first time author. The writing here is decent, despite the implausible plot, but the attitudes towards women are deeply questionable. Two stars.

LONCON II or Through a Monocle? Darkly, by Robert Bloch

Bloch’s report on this year’s Worldcon was allegedly written on a hotel typewriter between the end of the con and his departure for home. I believe it. This rambling nonsense reads like it was written by a man short of sleep with his brain in a different time zone. You’ll learn much more about the con from our colleague Kris Vyas-Myall’s report. One star.

Mercury, by J. M. McFadden

Mercury is an alien predator with an unusual hunting style. She is captured by an expedition and brought to an Earth zoo. There will be consequences.

The story is quite obvious and depends on some rather stupid behavior, but it’s short and not a bad read despite all that. This is McFadden’s second sale, and I’m not averse to seeing more from him. Three stars.

Retief’s War (Part 3 of 3), by Keith Laumer

Retief continues his search for Fifi. Unable to find his army, he joins forces with the remaining Terries and prepares for a last stand against the Voion hordes. Rescue arrives at the last minute in the form of the Federated Quoppina army led by Fifi, who is none other than Retief’s cousin Princess Fianna Glorian Deliciosa Hermione Arianne de Retief et du Lille. A typical Retief plan is put together to save the rest of the CDT mission, knock Ikk and his Voions out of power, quash Groaci schemes and get Retief mostly out of trouble.


Tief-Tief rides to the rescue. Art by Gaughan

What a disappointing ending. A number of things happen that make little or no sense, but happen to move plot forward. Back in the first part, I noted that there was more room for things to develop, but Laumer seems to have run out of room anyway and it all rushes to a slam-bang ending. Two stars for this part and a very low three for the novel as a whole.

Summing up

There’s lots of revolution in these pages, political, industrial and sexual. But there’s nothing revolutionary. IF is by no means mired in the past like Analog and the outward forms often acknowledge the changes happening to the genre, but the bones are still those of a decade ago or more. IF is still worth reading, and Fred Pohl has never struck me as averse to change, but he really needs to pick one of his three magazines to at least experiment with bringing them into the 1960s and beyond.


Nothing here looks terribly new either.






[October 2, 1965] Gimmickry (November 1965 IF)


by David Levinson

When I was a boy, a gimmick was either much the same thing as a gadget or the sort of device a crooked casino owner would use to make sure the roulette wheel comes up 22. These days, of course, it means an ingenious new angle or a trick to draw attention in advertising. It can also be the sort of thing that makes a story work or at least that the author hopes will make the story interesting.

America’s Pastime

Baseball is no stranger to gimmicks. From sending midgets up to bat to exploding scoreboards, owners and general managers will do anything to get fans to come out to the park. After starting the season by losing 21 of their first 26 games, the Kansas City Athletics have been mired in the cellar all season. Desperate to get people into the stands as the season winds down, owner Charlie Finley came up with a couple of gimmicks in the last month. September 8th, was Campy Camp Night and regular shortstop Bert “Campy” Campaneris played all nine positions in a single game. Up against the Los Angeles Angels (or I guess California by that time, speaking of gimmicks), Campy started at shortstop and moved from position to position each inning. In the eighth, he took the mound and even switch pitched, throwing right-handed to right-handed batters and left-handed to left-handed batters. Alas, while catching in the ninth, Campy was injured in collision at the plate and had to sit out a few games.

On the 25th, Finley invited several old player from the Negro Leagues to be present when Satchel Paige took the mound against the Boston Red Sox. At 59, he’s the oldest person ever to play in the big leagues (and at 34 Athletics’ manager Haywood Sullivan is the youngest manager). Satch sat in a rocking chair in the bullpen between innings, being served coffee by a “nurse”. He pitched three innings, giving up only one hit. He came out to the mound to start the fourth, but as planned he was removed. The lights were dimmed, and the crowd held up lighters and lit matches and sang “The Old Gray Mare” as Paige walked off.


Left: Bert Campaneris. Right: Satchel Paige, with “nurse”

Baseball also saw a couple of milestones. On September 9th, Sandy Koufax of the Los Angeles Dodgers pitched a perfect game against the Chicago Cubs. (For non-baseball fans, that means Koufax and the Dodgers did not allow a single opposing player to get on base through any means.) Pity Cubs pitcher Bob Hendley, who gave up only one hit in the game. Four days later, on the 13th, San Francisco Giants player Willie Mays became the fifth player and first Black player to hit 500 career home runs. Congratulations to both men, whose teams, at the time of writing, are still vying to see which will make it to the World Series. Good luck to both (though I’m rooting for the Dodgers).


Left: Sandy Koufax. Right: Willie Mays

Gimmicks good and bad

This month’s IF is not without its gimmicks. Let’s get to it.


In orbit around a collapsed star. Art by Morrow

Tiger Green, by Gordon R. Dickson

Exploration Team Five-Twenty-Nine has run into more than they can handle on the second planet of Star 83476. There are communication problems with the natives, the jungle is trying to digest their ship and eight of the twelve men in the team have gone violently insane. Navigator Jerry McWhin can feel a berserk rage building in him. As tempers flare among the remaining crew, Jerry locks the others in sick bay and heads for the native village in a bid to resolve the situation.


Jerry and the natives attempt to cure his madness. Their ideas of what either of those terms means may differ. Art by Adkins

Despite its flaws, this is a pretty solid story. There was probably room for some cuts in the first third or so to improve the pacing, and the need for several pages of expository dialog to explain what happened is a real weakness. All of which have cost the story a fourth star. Nevertheless, Dickson seems to have matured into a very good writer. He does still need to work on his female characters (of whom there are none in this story), but otherwise I look forward to a lot more from him. Three stars.

Time of War, by Mack Reynolds

Atomic war has devastated the Earth. Handfuls of civilians struggle to survive in the few areas where the radiation isn’t lethal. Alex remotely operates a “beetle” from a base on the Moon, hunting and killing civilians who may or may not be from the other side. The enemy, the Comics, do the same, flying their manned buzz-fighters from a super-sputnik in orbit.

A rather bleak tale. I rather wonder if the two sides really would attempt to utterly wipe out enemy civilians, eventually not caring if their victims were on the other side or not. I also question if it would be possible to remotely operate an aerial vehicle on Earth from the Moon, let alone engage in dogfights. The time delay of over a second each way ought to make that virtually impossible. In any case, the gimmick here lies solely on the nature of the Comics. It’s clear what Reynolds was trying to do, but that’s not enough for this piece. It either needs a lot more plot or a lot fewer words. A high two stars.

Masque of the Red Shift, by Fred Saberhagen

Seven years after the Battle of Stone Place, Felipe Nogara, the ruler of Esteel and arguably the most powerful man in the galaxy, has brought his flagship Nirvana outside the galaxy to examine a collapsed star (sometimes called a black hole). The body of his half-brother Johann Karlsen, the hero of Stone Place, who recently put down a rebellion on Flammland has arrived in cryogenic suspension. Most believe Karlsen the victim of a plague, but Nogara has had him frozen, because he feared his brother’s growing popularity.

Meanwhile, a second courier – carrying Janda, the leader of the rebellion, brain-damaged by his treatment since his arrest, and his sister Lucinda – is captured by a new form of Berserker. The Berserkers will use Janda’s body to sneak a killing machine aboard the Nirvana to make sure that Karlsen is dead.


”We willingly bring in the semblance of the terror outside!” Art by Gaughan

Saberhagen continues to impress. The Berserkers could easily have become a simple gimmick for stories about space battles. Instead, he uses them as a backdrop to write stories about people. Another author might also have paralleled the Poe story which inspired this much more closely. It’s quite good, though not quite enough for four stars; a very high three stars.

Retief’s War (Part 2 of 3), by Keith Laumer

We left Retief crashed in the jungle and threatened with becoming dinner. Naturally, he manages to talk his way out of that and instead begins uniting diverse tribes of Quoppina to fight the Voion. An emissary sent out to parlay with “Tief-Tief” proves to be Groaci General Hish, disguised, like Retief, as a native. Upon learning that the human women who also crashed in the jungle have been captured, Retief allows himself to be taken prisoner. It turns out the women have escaped, so he does as well and trails them through the wilderness, making new allies along the way. He finally catches up with them, but the mysterious Fifi has left to try and reach the army forming to fight the Voion. To be concluded.


Retief makes a friend. Art by Gaughan

There’s really not much to this installment, just Retief bantering with various natives and General Hish. There’s a hint of humor in his escape, but it could have been a lot funnier. A low three stars.

The Lonely Hours, by W. I. McLaughlin

George Rock is fleeing through space from a creature that lives in the dark between galaxies. He has a plan to set a psychic trap for it using the corpse of a creature composed of ion sheets. This somehow involves visions of Ahab and burning witches.

McLaughlin is this month’s new writer. Fred must be desperate for stories from unpublished writers, because this is awful. None of it makes any sense, and the protagonist is unpleasant. One star.

The Doomsday Men, by Kenneth Bulmer

Robin Carver is a member of ridforce. If his team can get to the body of someone who died violently within 3 minutes of death, he can explore that person’s memories to find out how they died. He was once an agent of the Americas, but was declared unstable when his wife abandoned him and their infant daughter. While investigating the death of a “gaiety girl”, he thinks he sees his now teenage daughter at a wild party in the victim’s memory.

Carol Bursham is a scientist working for Whitcliffe, the man who invented the process that allows the investigation of the minds of the recently dead. They are trying to come up with a way of recording those minds, so that there will be less pressure on the few people who can handle immersing themselves in someone else’s mind. She and Carver discover a plot which threatens the Shield which seals the Americas off from the threat of atomic attack and the rest of the world. A plot which reaches into the upper echelons of society.


Carver makes a disturbing discovery in the mind of a murder victim. Art by Morrow

Line by line, the writing is sound and there are some interesting pieces here, but they fit together poorly. The ending also involves both a rather abrupt shift in attitudes that isn’t earned and an implication that doesn’t make much sense. Points for having a couple of female characters who actually do things and aren’t there just to be rescued. On the other hand, the way Carol thinks about men is very clearly written by a man. Still, it’s a reasonably decent read. Three stars.

Summing Up

Another issue that just sort of meanders around, deviating for the most part only slightly from average. The real problem here is the story from the first-timer. The IF First program is a seemingly good idea, but it could very easily turn into just a gimmick if the editors start sacrificing quality just to run a story from a new author. There’ve been some good stories to come out of the policy, but so far I think the only real success has been Larry Niven. Well, while there’s life, there’s hope.






[September 6, 1965] War and Peace (October 1965 IF)


by David Levinson

War is something of a constant in human history, with nearly every generation facing at least one. Fifty years ago, the great powers of Europe – with a late assist from the United States – fought the “war to end war” (a phrase probably coined by H. G. Wells). Twenty years later, we got to do it all again. And ever since, brushfire wars have flared up around the globe almost continually. War permeates our language and culture even in times of peace. In his State of the Union address last year, President Johnson referred to his Great Society program as a “war on poverty”. It even shows up in our entertainment: war movies are popular; there must be half a dozen TV shows in the new fall line-up set during the War or with military themes (more if you count spy shows); and one of the current best selling novels is a barely fictional account of the U. S. Army’s special forces, The Green Berets. Sometimes it’s enough to make you believe we really are on the Eve of Destruction.


The rawness of the recording makes it that much more powerful

The War in Viet Nam

On August 5th, America got a rather shocking look at the war in Viet Nam. CBS reporter Morley Safer accompanied a Marine unit to the village of Cam Ne, where they came under sporadic fire from the Viet Cong. Communist forces soon withdrew as the Marines advanced. As they entered the village, the Americans found a number of entrenchments and a few booby traps. Their orders were to destroy any village from which they received fire, so the villagers were herded into the nearby fields, and the Marines set fire to the homes with flamethrowers and cigarette lighters. Despite the villagers’ pleas to be allowed to remove their personal belongings, everything, including all the rice stores, was destroyed. Four old men who couldn’t understand the soldiers’ English were arrested. The public is understandably outraged. Alas, most of the ire seems to be directed at CBS and Mr. Safer. President Johnson is also said to be livid.


A Marine uses his lighter to set fire to a peasant hut

War at the foot of the Roof of the World

On August 5th, several thousand Pakistani soldiers crossed into Indian-controlled Kashmir disguised as civilian locals. The belief was that the local Muslim population would rise up and welcome their coreligionists. Instead they reported the intruders to the Indian authorities. Ten days later, the Indian army crossed the ceasefire line. Thus far, both sides have made progress. As this is written, India has captured the Haji Pir pass, roughly 5 miles inside Pakistani territory, though there are also reports of a massive push by Pakistani forces. Hopefully, another ceasefire can be brought into effect and a long-term peaceful solution can be found.


Indian forces in the Haji Pir pass

War across time and space

War is also a prominent feature of this month’s IF. As one war ends, another begins, along with a couple more and a very uneasy peace negotiation.


There are three living being depicted here. Art by Gaughan

Retief’s War (Part 1 of 3), by Keith Laumer

The natives of the planet Quopp are part insect, part machine and come in a variety of forms, each making up their own tribe. There has also been a sizable human presence for a century or so, to the point that there are human farmers and traders who have lived their whole lives on the planet. Now the Corps Diplomatique Terrestrienne has decided it is time for a native government to be established and, in the person of Ambassador Longspoon, has chosen the Voions to form the government and the Federal police force. Unfortunately, all the other tribes on the planet see the Voions as bandits and thugs.

As usual, Second Secretary and Consul Jame Retief has learned several of the local dialects and made friends with many of the common folk. There follow a number of adventures. He discovers crates of weapons labeled as educational material, which he manages to divert. Despite severe restrictions on tourism, a shipload of young women is requesting emergency permission to land. Their captain, by the name of Fifi, seems to know Retief, but he has no idea who she is. Defying orders, Retief grants them permission to land, but the ship crashes out in the jungle. Then there’s an attack on the embassy using smoke bombs which appear to be of Groaci manufacture.

Prime Minister Ikk has Retief arrested, hoping to find out where his guns are. He declares he is executing a coup, after which Retief makes his escape. Retief manages to disguise himself as a native with some help, and steals a barely flight worthy spaceship. He crashes in the jungle and is captured by some Ween, who call him Meat-fall-from-sky. As the situation goes from bad to worse, some more Ween drag in a Voion, loudly pointing out that he is a member of the Planetary Police. To be continued.


Meet the bad guys. While other Quoppians like colors, the Voions prefer basic black. Art by Gaughan

I’ve noted over the last few months that Retief is getting stale, as if Laumer is just going through the motions. This time around, he’s writing with more verve. It feels like Laumer is enjoying himself again. Maybe it’s because there’s more room. Retief pulls off at least three escapades here that would normally have had to resolve the whole situation in a shorter piece. So even though we’re getting all the usual story beats, there’s more flavor to it all.

That said, I’m hoping for a bit more depth as the story progresses. Laumer has set things up for some solid satire on colonialism as well as the sort of Cold War proxy conflicts that are really just colonialism in different clothing. The colonial powers frequently set one tribe over all the others, and it was often the least liked tribe, even before they wound up in charge, just as the CDT has done here with the Voions. We’ll have to wait and see if Laumer makes use of the situation he’s created. Three stars for now.

A Leader for Yesteryear, by Mack Reynolds

When his time capsule materializes above deep water, Lucius Rostock is barely able to escape it before it sinks. He is rescued by some very surprised fishermen and brought to shore. The local people take him in, and Lucius discovers that he is neither where nor when he expected to be. Rather than the future, he is in the distant past. Gradually, he learns the language and finds out where fate has brought him, though he is rather taken aback at how unwarlike the people are.

To say more would give the whole story away. I figured out where and when Lucius found himself quite a while before he did, though I suspect Reynolds expected the reader to do that. I also figured out who the text implies Lucius will become, although that is never spelled out. What I didn’t see coming was who Lucius is. The end really caught me by surprise. I do have a couple of quibbles with this otherwise very good story. There’s an odd gap in the languages that Lucius knows, which would have allowed him to communicate much sooner (but not without some difficulty, nevertheless). Also, the final paragraphs – even though the reveal did catch me by surprise – are a bit stilted and clumsy. Still, a solid three stars.

The Smiling Future, by Miriam Allen deFord

In an overpopulated world where nearly everyone works at producing enough food to keep the human race alive, an intelligent dolphin appears on the California coast and summons the world government to a summit meeting. Five hundred years of dumping radioactive waste into the oceans has resulted in highly intelligent, technologically advanced dolphins. In need of more room, they are planning to flood the world, but one faction has an offer to help preserve the human race.

What bleak, bleak story. It’s made worse by the plodding narrative style, too. Mrs. deFord has been in the writing business for well over 40 years, and up until recently her work has been generally very good. She does spend most of her time writing mysteries, even winning an Edgar a few years ago, and I admit I don’t read all that much in the genre, so perhaps her level of quality there has held steady. But her work in science fiction and fantasy has really fallen off in quality. Two stars.

Origin of Species, by Robert F. Young

Alan Farrell has traveled to the Upper Paleolithic in search of an anthropology professor and his secretary, who have gone missing. Exiting his own mammothmobile (regular readers may remember a similar concept with dinosaurs in Young’s “When Time Was New”), he finds first the professor’s “paleethnologivehicle” and then the professor’s body, apparently killed by Neanderthals. Farrell presses on, searching for the secretary, Miss Larkin, on whom he is developing a crush based solely on her picture and very wholesome résumé.

Eventually, he discovers a cave guarded by a force field, some Neanderthals who shoot blue sparks out of their mouths, and Miss Larkin. As the two make their escape, Farrell is shocked to learn first that the Neanderthals are bringing in what appear to be Cro-Magnon people as prisoners through some sort of portal, and second that Miss Larkin is not the wholesome girl she seemed to be, but rather an ecdysiast attempting to better her lot in life. Will the pair be able to stop aliens from using Earth as a prison? Will Farrell learn that exotic dancers can be nice girls, too? It’s Young. What do you think?


Honestly, this picture tells you everything you need to know about this story. Those gorillas are supposed to be Neanderthals. Art by Morrow

The good news is that Young hasn’t written another modern take on a myth or fairy tale, nor has he written one of his overly sentimental romances. The bad news is that he attempted to write a sex farce (I think). Without the sex. Farrell is a dope, who took forever to figure out the mystery of the spark-shooting Neanderthals, and a hypocrite. He developed his low opinion of strippers by… visiting strip clubs. Two stars.

Purpose, by Edward V. Dong

All life on Earth has been destroyed by an interstellar nucleonic storm. All that is left is the Machine. It was created to save the human race, but failed. In the last moments, technician John Michelson reprogrammed the Machine to be a monument to Man and to wait for new life to appear in the solar system. Eventually, the Machine is freed of its programming and seeks fulfillment.

Dong is this month’s first time author, and I suspect this story was written for F&SF’s Univac/unicorn contest. I’m not terribly impressed. It really felt like I’d read this before. Indeed for most of its three pages I was expecting something along the lines of Asimov’s “The Last Question”. That’s not quite where the author went with his story, but he didn’t get where he was trying to go either. Two stars.

An Ounce of Emotion, by Gordon R. Dickson

Tyrone Ross and Arthur Mial are the Earth delegation on their way to attempt to broker a peace between the Laburti and Chedal using a computer known as a statistical analysis instrument, or Annie. Earth is in Laburti space and, if war breaks out, could be devastated. Unfortunately, the two men hate each other with an inexplicable passion and have from the moment they met. Ross, the viewpoint character, is the technician who can run Annie, while Mial is a diplomat and ostensibly in charge.

Tempers flare between the two as Mial grows ever more high-handed and seems to be making a corrupt deal with the Chedal. Ross goes so far as to attempt to kill Mial, though he fails. Can Ross keep Mial from wrecking the negotiations? And why would Earth send two people who are so incapable of getting along?


I’m not sure why Annie is blowing up here. That didn’t happen. Art by Giunta

The situation Dickson has created feels rather implausible, even given the explanation at the end. Nevertheless, it’s a decent story, if you can get past the tense atmosphere between the two human characters. Gordy has really settled in as a solid writer who rarely wastes his readers’ time. Three stars.

Short Trip to Nowhere, by Robert Moore Williams

Jim Eiler comes home late. His wife Marta is already asleep, as is his three-year-old daughter Nelda. As he slides into his anti-gravity bed and plugs in the cords of the sleep machine, a voice in his head cheerily greets him. There’s a nasty fight with his wife, and eventually he agrees to call in their friend Harold, a psychiatrist. Eventually, it turns out the voice is coming from Nelda’s imaginary friend, who isn’t so imaginary after all. Then Nelda disappears.

This is another one I felt I had already read in better form. Williams is clearly using Peter Pan as his basis, but there were other resonances. Though different, I was strongly reminded of both Henry Kuttner’s “Mimsy Were the Borogoves” and Mark Clifton’s “Star, Bright”. The bitter relationship between the Eilers makes for an unpleasant read and serves no real purpose, when it could have prompted Nelda’s search for something happier. Instead it’s just bickering. Two stars.

Skylark DuQuesne (Part 5 of 5), by E. E. Smith

Sigh. This story does not deserve a detailed summary. In a nutshell, using Ray-See-Nee magic the Skylarkers and friends come up with a new way to combine mind power. They devise a whole bunch of new science and use it to solve the Chloran problem for good. A final solution, you might say. They take the stars from one galaxy and smash them into the stars of planets the Chlorans live on, while taking all the planets with humans living on them and moving them to a third galaxy. And they called Edmond Hamilton the planet killer.

Midway through this attack, the Chlorans counterattack, leaving Seaton and Crane unconscious. DuQuesne leaps into the breach and finishes the job. Afterwards, he proposes to Hunkie de Marigny and the two go off to conquer a galaxy on the rim of the universe. The end. At last.


Dick Seaton gets what’s coming to him. Art by Morrow

Let’s start with the slightly less egregious denouement. From the title of this novel, one would expect that we would witness the redemption of Blackie DuQuesne. He does decide that there is room enough in the universe for both him and Dick Seaton and he does open up his shell just a little bit to let someone else in. But that’s as far as it goes. He still plans to make himself the emperor of a galaxy. Worse, he openly states that he’s planning a program of eugenics, one based not just on sterilization, but extermination. Marc C. “Blackie” DuQuesne remains an evil man to the end.

And then there’s Dick Seaton. In my review of Part 1, I declared Seaton to be a war criminal, based on his destruction of the Fenachrone homeworld in an earlier novel. Here, after general discussion of what to do about the Chlorans – including a proposal to convert them – he compares the Chlorans to a cancer that must be rooted out (a disgustingly familiar argument) and comes up with a plan to kill every single Chloran before they spread to other galaxies. There are nearly 150 million Chloran planets. We’re talking about the deaths of trillions at the very least. War criminal doesn’t even begin to describe it.

Zero stars for genocide and an ending that completely poisons an otherwise mediocre novel whose only redeeming feature is excessive nostalgia.

Summing up

Well, a bleak issue for a bleak month. It got off to a decent start, though the Reynolds story does have a dark tone to it. The Dickson was unpleasant, but in a good way. It was intended to be so and to make readers think. Other than that, poor efforts topped off by a steaming pile of genocide and eugenics. But at long last, it’s over. Do we have anything to look forward to? Let’s hope so.


A wraparound cover this month, so here it is in all its glory. Art, as before, by Gaughan






[August 2, 1965] Expansion and Contraction (September 1965 IF)


by David Levinson

It seems like the world gets a little smaller every day. Jet planes are gradually replacing larger propeller-driven planes in the passenger market, reducing the time it takes to get from one place to another. As they become more ubiquitous even the middle class may be able to travel like the jet set. Communications satellites are making it possible for news to spread faster, and we can even see some events on television as they happen on the other side of the world.

On the other hand, the world seems to be getting bigger, too. We hear constantly about remote places where this conflict or that independence is taking place. The wealth of human knowledge is growing so fast, it’s almost impossible to keep up. Growing, shrinking, let’s look at some things that have done one or the other lately.

A long shortcut

France and Italy are now closer. Not diplomatically, and it’s not conclusive proof of continental drift, but the time to travel between them has shrunk thanks to the opening of a tunnel underneath Mont Blanc. The two countries agreed on building the tunnel in 1949, but excavation didn’t begin until a full decade later, with a company from each country drilling from their own side. The excavations met on August 4th, 1962, with an axis variation of a mere 5 inches. The tunnel was inaugurated at a ceremony on July 16th, attended by French President Charles de Gaulle and Italian President Giuseppe Saragat, and opened to traffic three days later.

At 8,140 feet below the surface, the two-lane highway tunnel is the deepest operational tunnel in the world, and at 7.2 miles, it is also the longest highway tunnel, some three times longer than the previous record holder, the Honshu-Kyushu tunnel in Japan. The travel distance from France to Turin is now 30 miles shorter, and the distance to Milan is 60 miles shorter.


Presidents de Gaulle and Saragat in front of the Mont Blanc tunnel connecting Chamonix to Courmayeur during the official inauguration

Flash!

Kodak made a big splash when they introduced the Instamatic camera two years ago. Like the venerable Brownie, the Instamatic makes it easy for amateurs to take snapshots. There’s even a model with a built-in flashgun that takes so-called peanut bulbs. The problem with those is that bulbs have to be removed before you can take another shot with the flash, and they get very, very hot. Kodak, working together with Sylvania Electronics, has come up with a solution: the flashcube.

As the name suggests, it’s a cube with a mount that connects to the camera on the bottom, and four flashbulbs around the sides. Trigger the shutter, the flash goes off, the cube rotates 90° and it’s ready for another picture immediately. Plus, by the time you’ve taken the fourth picture, parts of the cube should be cool enough to touch, so you can replace it right away. This should mean lots more candid snaps and a lot less dragging everybody outside to squint into the sun at family gatherings. A big innovation in a very small package.


$100 is a little pricey, but there are less expensive models, and we are talking about a lifetime of memories

An electrifying performance

The folk world had their horizons expanded last week, perhaps to their dismay. Despite his bad boy antics off stage last year, Bob Dylan was the most eagerly anticipated act at this year’s Newport Folk Festival, but his performance was met with a chorus of boos. It seems young Mr. Dylan felt that Alan Lomax was rather condescending when introducing the Paul Butterfield Blues Band at a workshop on Saturday the 24th and decided he would play electric to prove to the organizers they couldn’t keep it out. He hastily assembled a band from a couple of members of the Butterfield Band and some others and spent Sunday afternoon rehearsing. The crowd was shocked at the sight of Dylan accompanied by an electric band, and the short set of “Maggie’s Farm”, “Like a Rolling Stone” and “Phantom Engineer” was met with both boos and cheers. MC Peter Yarrow (of Peter, Paul and Mary) dragged Dylan out for a quick acoustic encore of “Mr. Tambourine Man” and “It’s All Over Now, Baby Blue”. The crowd exploded and begged for another encore.

So why the booing? Ask three different people and you’ll get four different answers. Some say it was folkies mortally offended at the mere presence of electric instruments or a rock sound, others that fans were upset at the shortness of the set and the fact that the band used most of their allotted 15 minutes for tuning and switching instruments and/or poor sound quality. Some will tell you it was definitely the fans booing, others blame the press or even the organizers. We may never know the truth of the matter, but there’s no question that Bob Dylan has made another big impact on music.

Dylan with electric guitar and harmonica. Completely different from his usual acoustic guitar and harmonica. (Band not shown)

The Mysterious Doctor X

If you drop by your local library and take a look at the Sunday New York Times for July 25th (assuming they carry it and it has already come in) and flip to the list of best sellers, you’ll see a new title, Intern by Doctor X. It is, by all reports, a rather harrowing account of a young doctor’s period of interning at a hospital a few years ago, taken from his daily journal. The names, as Jack Webb would say, have been changed to protect the innocent, and the doctor has chosen a pseudonym to further protect confidentiality. “What has that got to do with science fiction,” you ask. Well, a little bird told me that Doctor X is in fact a reasonably well-known science fiction writer. Since he has good reasons for concealing his identity, I won’t give it away, but I will say that I once thought he was a pseudonym for Andre Norton and that his last name closely resembles a different medical profession mostly practiced by women.

Another hint: It’s not Murray Leinster or James White

It’s bigger, but is it better?

As promised last month, IF is now 32 pages longer, making it the same size as its bi-monthly sister publication Worlds of Tomorrow. Fred Pohl claimed that’s enough for two more novelettes, four or five short stories, a complete short novel, or an extra serial installment. How well did the editorial team make use of that extra room this month? Let’s take a look.


A deadly duel begins. Art by McKenna

Under Two Moons, by Frederik Pohl

We open in medias res in a seedy corner of Marsport. Secret agent Johan Gull is tied to a pillar in a room full of gunpowder as a beautiful woman sticks a lit matchcord in his mouth and then declares her love for him. After escaping, he goes for a shave and retrieves a jacket not his own, but which holds a key that lets him access headquarters behind the barber shop. A seemingly reasonable bit of spycraft, until he has to go for a shave every time he needs to go to a different department. He meets with .5, the head of the agency, who speaks only through his personal secretary. His new assignment is to go to Syrtis Major and investigate a couple of prospectors who claim to have been granted powers by beings from a flying saucer. Are the Black Hats behind it, or something more?

Aboard the submarine taking him to his destination, he once again meets the mysterious woman. She helps him escape from the submarine when it is sabotaged, and together they struggle through the Martian desert. They’re saved by the appearance of Tars Tarkas riding a thoat. It seems they’ve stumbled into Barsoomland, and Tars is a robot. Eventually, they make their way to Heliopolis. Further spy shenanigans take place, culminating in a big showdown in a casino.


I love you Meestah Gull. I expect you to die. Art by Wallace Wood

It’s quite the zany – at times bordering on insane – send-up of James Bond, more so the movies than the books. Gull is a drunk, a womanizer, and unbelievably stupid. Only a few hours pass between the first scene and the woman’s appearance on the submarine, yet he has no idea who she is, and she has to remind him several times throughout the story.

While it isn’t bad, the humor really isn’t to my taste. There’s a sort of overly arch cleverness to it that grates. Worse, the first thing we get with 32 extra pages is a 32 page story by the editor. Admittedly, Fred has a problem in that the best market for the kind of thing he writes is the trio of magazines he oversees, and I’m sure there’s a process for deciding whether or not to buy one of the boss’s stories, but it’s not a good look. It might have been better to wait a couple of months before running this one. The flying saucer aspects of the story probably also prompted the longish editorial. Three stars, at the low end for me, maybe higher for you.

Moon Duel, by Fritz Leiber

On the rim of Gioja crater, the unnamed narrator and his partner Pete are setting up a miniradar when Pete is killed by a sniper on the other side of the crater. The killer is a “crusoe”, one the many aliens marooned on Earth’s moon, all of whom fight and kill each other and the growing number of humans for the scarce resources that allow them to survive. The narrator manages to get off a few quick shots and a mayday signal. What follows is a deadly game of cat and mouse for the hours it will take for help to arrive. But at one point the antagonists begin an attempt at communication.

This is a very atypical story for Fritz Leiber. Even though I tend to think of him primarily as a writer of fantasy and horror, he’s no stranger to science fiction. “A Pail of Air” is one of my favorite stories. But the science comes on very strongly here, often shouldering aside character, which is Leiber’s real strength. It’s also shoehorned in at times, such as the clumsy footnote about the muzzle velocity of the narrator’s weapon. The climax also shares a factor with the rather poor Men of Good Will by Ben Bova and Myron R. Lewis, although Leiber is far more scientifically rigorous. Still, I’m not sure Leiber can write a bad sentence, and there is some genuine tension. To be honest, I probably would have liked this more if someone else’s name had been on it and I’d come in with a different set of expectations. Three stars.

The Planet Player, by E. Clayton McCarty

Archaeologist Charles Maxwell has joined the expedition to planet S-60 to investigate signs of a lost civilization. He gets off to a poor start with Litzanov, the expedition’s director. The director is a prickly authoritarian, who as it turns out is completely tone deaf and greatly annoyed by “sound in a measured tempo”. Maxwell, on the other hand, had dreams of being a concert pianist, has brought his guitar along, and reacts badly to being pushed around. Early in the journey, a stowaway is discovered, a fifteen-year-old deaf-mute known to the crew as Binky, the son of an early space scout. Bothered by the way the crew handles the boy, Maxwell takes him under his wing.

When they arrive at the planet, Litzanov proves to be a glory-hound. All photographic and video records are carefully rehearsed and staged to put him front and center, depicted as a wise man of science. The team also discovers massive structures made of a crystalline material which resonates to slight touches, though not to hard blows. At the heart of the alien complex, they find a theater with the remains of the dead in every seat. Spot checks all around the world find evidence that every single inhabitant of the planet died at the same instant, utterly without warning. The team probes the mystery, and as we are warned at the beginning, not everyone will survive.

Talk about a dead audience. Art by David A. Kyle

What a beautiful story. It’s not without its flaws; the reader figures out what destroyed this civilization and what is going to happen to the expedition fairly quickly, and the rather quick and easy decoding of the written language is highly improbable. But that all gets washed away by the ending, especially the final paragraph. This is McCarty’s second story. His first, Small One, was overly long and lacked subtlety, though Gideon rather liked it. This one however is excellent. A solid four stars.

M’Lord Is the Shepherd, by Leigh Richmond and Walt Richmond

From Moonbase One, M’Lord oversees the development of the people of Alterra. Although they are 50,000 to 100,000 years from being ready to be contacted by the Galactics, M'Lord has received orders to get them to that stage within 200. The Korm’aans are predicted to sweep through that spiral arm of the galaxy and the Galactics need an ally. That sort of forced stimulation usually destroys those subjected to it, but while a weak ally is preferable, a planet that can be used without interference from a native race is acceptable.

M’Lord decides that electric current is the ideal way to carry out his orders. First, he introduces the battery. After 75 years have passed, he sends his chief teslar down to the planet to get them to use 60 cycle alternating current. The results are astonishing. After only a few decades, the Alterrans are reclassified from “Sheep” to “Predator”. In fact, they represent a greater threat than Korm’aan. The solution is to fill the atmosphere with ultra-high frequency, ultra-short wave broadcasts. This attempt fails and he is ordered to apply hypnotic stupidifiers. This too fails, and the Alterrans are predicted to take over the galaxy within 500 years. The Galactics and Korm’aans have made common cause, and M’Lord must now act as ambassador and plead for no retribution.

Great Ghu, the Richmonds have escaped from Analog! The whole thing is ridiculously obvious, with the possible exception of the teslar. Unless you’ve read up on the early days of electricity, remember some of the articles Hugo Gernsback wrote back in the 1910s and 1920s, or have some reason to measure magnetic flux, you’ve likely not heard of Nikola Tesla. In any case, the question is why Campbell didn’t want this one. I mean, it has humans as the biggest, meanest, fiercest thing the galaxy has ever seen. Maybe he was put off by the scientific advancement of the last century or so coming from aliens rather than the natural superiority of northwestern Europeans. I should also note that it was only during the writing of this review that I realized the M’Lord is not a contraction such as one would use to address an English judge, but rather an alien name with obligatory apostrophe. A very low 2 stars.

Giant Killer, by Keith Laumer

On the planet Rockamorra, the CDT mission under Ambassador Splitwhistle is about to become the first formally credentialed embassy on the planet – a veritable coup over the Groaci – when Retief arrives late and tries to persuade the ambassador not to go through with it. He fails, but Splitwhistle really should have listened. It seems he has committed himself and his people (except Retief, who refused to go through the ceremony) to slaying a dragon. After the ambassador gets everybody thrown in jail by refusing to carry out his duly appointed task, it’s up to Retief, with a slight assist from Ben Magnan, to save the day.


The ambassador is supposed to kill it with a sword. Retief has a different plan. Art by Gaughan

I said last month that Retief’s shtick is getting stale. All the usual beats are here: the mission gets in trouble because no one listens to Retief, Retief enlists the aid of a slick talking local, Ben Magnan blunders about and accidentally helps, Retief saves the day. The only thing missing is a pulchritudinous female to offer her affections as a reward. Laumer seems to just be going through the motions in order to turn out one of these every month. I suppose it’s an easy, guaranteed sale. We’re promised the start of a Retief novel next month. We’ll see if the extra room for development of plot and character is a good thing or not. A low three stars, but probably a firm three if you’re new to the series.

Alien Artifact, by Dannie Plachta

A billion miles beyond the orbit of Pluto, the patrol ship Solar Sea picks up a large object on radar. It proves to be a giant ship, the alien artifact of the title. The crew explores and makes a shocking discovery.

Dannie Plachta is this month’s new writer. This short tale is afflicted with the desire for a Twilight Zone shock ending. While not a poor representative of the form, it’s not all that shocking either. And even at 2 and a half pages, the story is a bit long for what’s in it. On the other hand, it’s a decent freshman effort. I vacillated between two and three stars. The writing isn’t bad, and I wouldn’t immediately roll my eyes on seeing Plachta’s name again in the table of contents. Plus, it’s short. So, three stars, I guess.

Gree’s Damned Ones, by C. C. MacApp

Steve Duke has been infiltrated into a Gree punishment detail. The others aboard the transport have sinned against Gree, but are being given a chance to redeem themselves. Steve is here to find out why Gree and its slaves are showing great interest in a planet near the center of the galaxy.

Placed in charge of a large unit, Steve is ordered to make his way to an enormous cliff in some distant mountains and find a way to report back. The first night out, he finally activates the device that will give him his orders from the Birds of Effogus. Unfortunately, he left the device containing the means to let the Birds know exactly where he is so they can null in back in camp. He’ll just have to complete his mission and get back.

After a long and dangerous journey, Steve’s group meets up with another, under the leadership of Fazool, the B’Lant Steve befriended and betrayed in the first Gree story. Fortunately, Fazool was brain-burned and doesn’t recognize Steve, though in moments of distraction he does call him Jen. Ultimately, the two of them are the only ones to penetrate to the final mystery of the planet.


Steve and one of the B’Lants under his command encounter some dangerous plant life. Art by Giunta

I’m getting tired of these Gree stories. After a couple of dismal outings, the last couple have been better, but it’s time for MacApp to wrap this saga up. This one offers some interesting mysteries, and most of it is taken up by a sort of Arthur C. Clarke travelogue melded with a pulp jungle adventure. The end is rather perfunctory and raises as many questions as it answers, while seeming to move the war against Gree at least to the end of the mid-game. Still, it’s readable for the most part. A low three stars.

Skylark DuQuesne (Part 4 of 5), by E. E. Smith

The revolution on Ray-See-Nee in the Chloran galaxy is a success, but the locals whom Dick Seaton has put in power are worried about their first report back to the Chloran headquarters. The daily report shouldn’t be a problem, but the change in government will be closely scrutinized, and the reporter will likely die or have his mind shattered and will certainly give the game away. Fortunately, Seaton once went frontal lobe to frontal lobe against the Supreme Great One of the Chlorans and won. (Ignore the fact that that was halfway across the universe. Chlorans are Chlorans everywhere.) So Seaton makes the call and successfully dupes the bad guys. That taken care of, the Skylarkers head off to more familiar regions to repair the Valeron and come up with a way to improve coordination and reaction times on a planet-sized vessel.

Cut to the Jelmi. After some friendly political maneuvering, Mergon is now in charge. He picks out an uninhabited Tellus-type planet, and the Jelmi set about created an armed and well-defended base. Contact is made with the Llurdi, and after the Jelmi demand independence, the Llurdi throw everything they have at their former slaves. Holding out by the skin of their teeth, the Jelmi then contact the Llurdi, give them the teleporter, and restate their desire to live in peaceful independence. Being supremely logical, the Llurdi agree.

Meanwhile, repairs to the Valeron are complete, but Seaton is extremely fidgety. He only calms down once they start heading back to their new friends in the Chloran galaxy. It seems the woman who aided him in the revolution and her mother are witches, and they put a spell on him to summon him back. The new government is trying to weed out corruption, but are facing a lot of resistance from corrupt elements that are left over and new corrupt elements who want a piece of the graft. There’s a big shoot-out and the problem is resolved.

The Fenachrone are withering in Llurdi captivity. On his deathbed, their leader sends out a mental distress signal and makes contact with DuQuesne. The latter offers to help them and teleports their leader and a couple of others to his ship. He then heads for the Llurdi galaxy, as are the Skylarkers, who have figured out how DuQuesne tricked them and where the Jelmi must have come from. The leader of the Llurdi detects the Valeron (the DQ is shielded to the point of invisibility) and sends out a powerful mental probe. The Skylarkers read the probe as an attack and throw up their shields. The Llurdi decide they must attack and so throw everything at the Valeron. Seaton counterattacks and as the two forces are nearing mutual destruction, Seaton is mentally contacted by Mergon of the Jelmi. To be concluded.


Dick Seaton takes a call. Art by Morrow

Only one more installment to go. I must admit there is a certain crude vigor here that… well, it hasn’t grown on me, but I’m less offended by it than I was. It still doesn’t make a lot of sense, it’s still badly plotted, Smith still starts paragraphs with “wherefore”, but I guess I can see the nostalgic appeal if you first read Smith at an impressionable and less discerning age. Two stars.

Summing up

Before wrapping this up, let’s talk about the art. At least since I took on reviewing IF the interior art has been provided by a steady stable of four: Gray Morrow, Norman Nodel, Jack Gaughan and John Giunta. For me, Morrow is far and away the best of them, but he’s been tied up with Skylark for four issues now. I’m also not a big fan of Nodel’s smudgy look or Gaughan’s abstract elements. Still, all four are good, but there’s been a lack of freshness. This month saw two new additions. Wally Wood, of course, is primarily a comic artist (and former studio partner of Harry Harrison), but he’s done some illo work for IF’s sister publications, although we haven’t seen him for a couple of years. David Kyle is a long-time fan (he’s the man who got his fellow Futurians banned from the first Worldcon), occasional artist and rarely author. While there’s really nothing stylistically all that different, both artists have injected enough of a difference to seem fresh.

So, has IF made good use of its expanded space? It’s hard to say. Skylark DuQuesne continues to weigh the magazine down, and I think we’ll have to wait a couple of months to see what Fred Pohl does once it’s gone. As I noted above, no matter what you might think of the story, running a piece written by the editor which is exactly as long as number of new pages is not really the best way to start. On the other hand, we have eight titles this month, which increases the chances of there being something for everybody. And next month, Pohl is trying out another innovation. As one serial ends, we’ll also start another. If the typical serial is three parts, that’s an increase from four a year to six. That also raises the chances of more good work. Only time will tell.