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Magazine, Science Fiction/Fantasy, Serial

[August 31, 1966] Flights of Fancy (September 1966 Analog)

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by Gideon Marcus

Nonstandard Deviation

Mr. Campbell of the good ship Analog is an interesting character.  Known for his strident, occasionally downright offensive editorials, his fetish for pseudoscience, and his increasingly inconsistent (one might say half-hearted) story selection, he is both much-loved and much-maligned.

But, as Galactic Journey's editor likes to say, people contain multitudes.  Or more simply, he and his magazine aren't all bad.  If Analog sometimes hits disappointing lows, it also still reaches highs reminiscent of Analog's golden days (when it was called Astounding).  His story sets are not monolithic.  Sometimes they're downright surprising.

As Exhibit A, I submit the September 1966 Analog, a most unusual issue:

Charting new terrain


by John Schoenherr

The Mechanic, by Hal Clement

Hal Clement is best known for his nuts-and-bolts science fiction, as crunchy as unmilked cereal — and often as dry.  This piece tells the tale of a near-future hydrofoil dispatched to the Arctic to determine what's causing the extinction of zeowhales.  These cybernetic creatures have metal bodies but psuedoliving flesh, and some disease is dissolving them from the inside out.

Of course, the hydrofoil is also metallic, and bad things happen to a disintegrating ship zooming along at hundreds of miles per hour.


by Kelly Freas

Slow to start and very very explanatory, but the ideas are interesting and the latter half riveting if gruesome.

Three stars.

A Matter of Reality, by Carole E. Scott


by Leo Summers

A common charge leveled at Campbell is that he doesn't like to publish women.  I don't think that's fair.  The industry as a whole has an unfortunate shortage of woman-penned stories.  If Analog tends to be mostly a stag mag, it's just at one end of the bell curve, not a true outlier.  Indeed, Campbell discovered Pauline Ashwell and Katherine Maclean, two of the field's brightest lights.

Women not only write for Analog, they read it, too: A Matter of Reality came off the slush pile, submitted by Ms. Scott, a self-proclaimed admirer of Campbell and his mag for nearly two decades. 

Her first story contains none of the Campbellian touchstones: no psionics, no smugly superior Terrans, etc.  Instead, it's an interesting piece about an old man's final act, a literal embodiment of the phrase, "All the world's a stage."

I'd expect to find such a fantastic piece in Galaxy or F&SF, but Scott likes Analog the best, and her story makes for a nice change of pace in Campbell's mag.

Three stars, and I look forward to her next piece.

… Not a Prison Make, by Joseph P. Martino


by John Schoenherr

With the Vietnam war escalating and the President calling for double the troops (600,000 — this proposal just rejected by Congress), it's not surprising that the situation is finding echoes in our science fiction.

Martino offers up a proxy war between the Terrans and the Kreg on a third-party planet peopled by primitives.  The humans are subject to the most debilitating hit and run raids by the indigenes, who possess the powers of teleportation and limited clairvoyance.

Two viewpoints are espoused in the story: the military leader opines that the raiders are bandits, and the best bandit is a dead one.  The civilian expert believes that the hearts and minds of the populace must be won or the insurgency will have infinite longevity. 

Some clever defenses are built up against the natives, but they only constitute delaying actions.  The paradigm must be radically altered if success is to be had.

This story really had potential, but it ended just as it was getting interesting, and with none of the more profound points addressed.  Of course, no one really knows how to end a guerilla insurgency (predicting its death by the close of this century seems optimistic), but I'm dissatisfied with a story that concludes essentially with "then we won!"  I did appreciate that the characters were all South/Southeast Asian (from what I know of surnames).

Three stars.

Challenge, by Joe Poyer

The fictional piece is followed by an in-depth analysis of insurgency and counter-insurgency.  The author suggests that until the counter-insurgents learn to fight the insurgent game, and better than the insurgents, they won't win.  Interestingly, the latest plan for Vietnam is to field division-sized battlefield units, not just to quell the VC, but also to engage in peaceful, nation-building activities.  I'm not hopeful.

Anyway, Challenge is not a bad piece, though I don't know that it qualifies as "science."  Also, I would not classify the Watts riots as an insurrection.

I miss Robert S. Richardson's astronomy articles.  Three stars.

Symbols, by Christopher Anvil


by Kelly Freas

The river has frozen a month early, and the Gurt are under attack.  The Ghisrans are pouring across the ice now, threatening a precious mine that is vital to the Terran Navy.  If a handful of agents with an unarmed spaceboat are unable to stop them, the sector may fall.

I'm not sure what's more offensive: the portrayal of the lone female character as "hysterical" or the padding of this vignette to double size with Campbell-pleasing folderol about symbolic logic. 

Definitely the most reactionary of this month's pieces.  Two stars.

Too Many Magicians (Part 2 of 4), by Randall Garrett


by John Schoenherr

Ahh, but all that is washed away with the latest installment of the adventures of Lord Darcy, investigator in an alternate 1966 where thaumaturgy has trumped science.  As we saw last time, there had been two murders by unknown assailants, both by similar knives.  One of the victims was an Imperial double agent, killed while trying to ferret out a traitorous Anglo-Frenchman.  The other was an exalted state wizard.

The bombshell of this installment is that the two murders are connected, tightly.

A lot of great detective work in this one, as well as a tour to magical London's equivalent of a World Expo.  Garrett channels Doyle more and more these days, but so far it's working.

Four stars!

Charting a New Course

This experimental issue of Analog doesn't break any records, finishing dead-averagely at 3 stars.  Nevertheless, I applaud Campbell's willingness to experiment, and I enjoyed the issue.  Finishing above it were the superlative New Worlds (3.8 stars), the fine Fantasy and Science Fiction (3.5 stars), and the decent (but mostly because of a reprint) SF Impulse (3.2 stars).

Analog barely edged out IF (3 stars) and decidedly beat Fantastic (2.7 stars).

It was a good month overall for reading.  If one took all the magazine stories/serials that got 4 or 5 stars, they could potentially fill three magazines!  Also, women were responsible for 15.6% of all new fiction, a high water mark for sure.

On this triumphant note, I am off to Cleveland for this year's Worldcon.  Who will win the Hugos?  We'll have to wait a week to find out!  Rest assured, you'll be able to read all about it here long before the next edition of Ratatosk or Focal Point (or Skyrack, for my British friends) hits your mailbox.

And if you are in Cleveland next weekend, be certain to join us for the showing of the first Star Trek pilot at 7pm Eastern (4pm Pacific!).




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Magazine, Science Fiction/Fantasy, Serial

[August 28, 1966] Messiahs and Resignation (New Worlds and SF Impulse, September 1966)

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by Mark Yon

Scenes from England

Hello again!

An interesting month for the Brit magazines, as there seems to be changes going on – again. More of which later, but I’m going to change convention this month and start with New Worlds, simply because it arrived first!


Terrific cover by Keith Roberts

The magazine is here.

Having had time off from writing the Editorial for a couple of months, editor Mike Moorcock’s back and clearly on a mission. His Editorial this month sets out his stall from the beginning as it once again tackles the often-taboo subjects of sex and religion in SF.

Regular readers will know that really this is actually nothing new – Moorcock’s mentioned these topics before, and often.  My first review of New Worlds was of an issue with the Harry Harrison story The Streets of Askelon in it, which is mentioned here as an example of a controversial story. However, this time the stories are being used to provoke ‘head-on’, with Mike baldly stating in this Editorial that he is out to shock – ”… we anticipate a certain response to the stories in this issue…” .

Do they really shock, though? Whilst there are undoubtedly aspects that will be surprising and even be actively disliked by some readers, most of the stories cover themes and ideas already touched upon in both New Worlds and SF Impulse in recent months. The Streets of Askelon was published four years ago, and there have been similarly controversial stories since. (Langdon Jones's story I Remember, Anita is also mentioned, which I thought I hated, but actually liked!) In the last few issues there has been a regular trend of stories with a religious element to them, usually not positive, although at least they are often looking at it from a different angle.

Anyway, with the proverbial stall set, let’s get to the stories!


Illustration by James Cawthorn

Behold, The Man, by Mike Moorcock

And to the big story of the month, given a dramatic cover by Keith Roberts. (I know I have been quite dismissive of some of Keith's previous covers, but this one I really like.)

Some may regard the story as deliberately provocative, a sensation-piece written with little purpose other than to gain attention and sales by means of creating outrage. The sort of thing that if it were in the newspapers would generate that “Did you read that?” response, followed by the outcry which then gets others to read it.

Personally, I am much more forgiving. If you’ve read any New Worlds or Impulse over the last year or so, you will find the main religious theme of this story there already.

Time-travelling Karl Glogauer lands in 29AD aiming to find the Nazarene Jesus Christ. He meets John the Baptist, and eventually  Jesus. To Gloghauer’s horror, he finds that the Jesus he encounters is not the one expected from the Scriptures but instead a gibbering imbecile. Reluctantly Karl realises that he must take on the role and the responsibility and become what people in the future expect Jesus to be, even though he knows what will happen to him.

Having berated New Worlds for the clumsy story Look On His Face last month which covered similar ground, it would be easy to do the same here, but for the fact that this is a much superior tale. The character is nuanced, the story engaging and most of all surprisingly respectful towards the idea of religion. Although religion is undoubtedly central to the story, it also looks at loyalty, responsibility and duty, as well as the effect of symbolism and idolism on a mass of people to create a memorable story. I suspect that this is a story that will be remembered for a long time, even outside of the initial outrage. Another 5 out of 5. (That’s two in two months… a worrying habit!)

That Evening Sun Go Down, by Arthur Sellings

And then back to Earth with a bump. Another appearance of a regular author here, though one who’s rarely impressed me. That Evening Sun Go Down begins with something written in the style of Anthony Burgess’s A Clockwork Orange before telling us it is another – yes, another post-apocalyptic tale. Space-filler, sadly. 3 out of 5.

Signals, by John Calder

A new name to me. The story of a scientist with a scientific discovery of “interatomic communication”, based around the atom, but instead of telling it like it would be in an Asimov story this keeps veering into talk about sex, which fits with the brief of the magazine but to me feels tacked on, presumably in an attempt to be controversial. Not really sure whether this is meant to be parody, but in places it does feel like it.  2 out of 5.


Illustration by James Cawthorn

A Taste of the Afterlife, by Charles Platt and B. J. Bayley

This is an intriguing one, as a collaboration between two regulars. Platt is now recognised by the magazine as “Designer”, I see. The story is set in the future as Fairweather, our narrator, is given an assignment in some future Cold War – installations have been destroyed, apparently by some sort of interference beam or covert saboteurs, and it is his job to discover the cause. To do this, Fairweather must exist in the Afterlife, which involves killing him in order to travel there. An intriguing idea, but it all boils down to being James Bond-type stuff. It does sound a little like the movie Fantastic Voyage, which I gather was just released in the US – Jason has talked about it already. The novel is reviewed in SF Impulse this month, more of which later. 3 out of 5.

The Atrocity Exhibition, by J. G. Ballard

And on to a big-hitter with the return of J. G. Ballard. The title alone suggests that we’re back in Ballard-territory. Bleak, disparate, odd, memorable, peppered throughout with references to cultural and religious icons – the Madonna, Nagasaki, Elizabeth Taylor, Garbo. Really defies explanation, but this feels more like a return to form after the last couple of lack-lustre efforts. Nearly as good as the Moorcock story for me, although I am starting to feel that what once was startlingly original in style is now a little tired. 4 out of 5.

Another Little Boy, by Brian W. Aldiss

What! Another Aldiss story?

Interestingly, this one has an introduction from Aldiss that explains that it was inspired by a previous story by J. G. Ballard. Whilst I’m never a fan of authors having to explain their story, this one actually is not bad, and gives a whole new meaning to that phrase “Make Love, not War!” as in the future the commercialisation of sex and industrialisation of contraception has created a quite-different society to what we have now. Determined to celebrate the beginning of this enlightened age, the characters decide to re-enact the dropping of an atom bomb over Nagasaki. Sounds barmy – and it is! – but you can never accuse Aldiss of writing the same thing over and over. Silly, but entertaining. 4 out of 5.

Invaded by Love, by Thomas M. Disch

And talking of love, here’s another story involving it. Although he has been around a while, I think that this is my first read of material from another American who like Roger Zelazny is making waves with his New Wave stylings. This one fits Moorcock’s theme this month as it tackles religious belief head on and adds to this a drugs element. In the story an alien preacher arrives on Earth, attempting to sign humans up to his Universal Brotherhood of Love. As part of this the alien offers little yellow pills which eliminate violence and feelings of anger. As more and more people globally take the drug, war is eliminated but it also leads to unintended results such as world-wide famine as humans refuse to slaughter animals as well.

There is some resistance. An attack by the human resistance on the alien’s orbiting spaceship simply leads to the arrival of an alien fleet, which there is now no urge to attack. Eventually the world succumbs to this alien invasion.

This is a surprisingly dark tale, which reminded me a little of Heinlein’s Stranger in a Strange Land, without quite so much of the hectoring, or perhaps Arthur C Clarke’s Childhood’s End. Am sure Philip K Dick is writing similar stuff too, of whom more in a moment. The idea that invasion occurs not through war but by peace is an intriguing one. At times the story is a tad unsubtle, but overall, the story is quite impressive – I expect to read more from this promising writer. 4 out of 5.

Book Reviews

After his skewering of Goddard’s film Alphaville last month, John Brunner returns to criticise novels this month by exploring the work of Philip K Dick, who I’ve mentioned already this month.

As PKD is regarded as one of the New Wave of writers, perhaps unsurprisingly Brunner is also a fan of all of PKD’s work and as a result this month’s analysis is less eviscerating and more complimentary. It is well explained and detailed with an exhaustive list of novels mentioned at the end. Putting my cards on the table, I must say that personally Dick is an author I admire but not love. I generally prefer his short stories to his novels, but this article might even get me to try some of those PKD novels I haven’t tried yet.

James Cawthorn then covers a trilogy of books all dealing with planetary exploration. This includes Hal Clement’s Close to Critical, John Rankine’s Interstellar Two Five and Trivana 1 by R. Cox Abel and Chas. Barren. He also reviews John Carnell’s New Writings in SF 8 and a couple of Compact SF publications (the publisher of this magazine coincidentally), including The Deep Fix by a certain James Colvin.

Lastly, Hilary Bailey reviews lots of items in brief this month. This includes Night of Light by Philip Jose Farmer, Bow Down to Nul by Brian Aldiss, Henry Kuttner’s Fury, Merril and Kornbluth’s Gunner Cade, Clash of Star Kings by Avram Davidson and rather weirdly, a non-fiction book The Family and Marriage in Britain by Ronald Fletcher. Well, I guess that it fits in with the theme of sex in the issue!

There are no Letters pages this month. It’ll be interesting to see how the mail-bag fills after this determinedly controversial issue.

Summing up New Worlds

I said last month that I thought New Worlds was one of the best for a long time. This one is, if anything, better. The Moorcock story is most memorable, but then the rest of the register – Ballard, Aldiss – is not too shabby either, and Disch is particularly impressive if a little unsubtle. The Editor’s insistence on including new names is still admirable, but also means some expectedly lesser efforts, but even there I have read worse. A very good issue overall, even if it is not as controversial as the Editor would like us to believe.

The Second Issue At Hand


Another cover by Keith Roberts

And after all that hullabaloo, let’s go to SF Impulse. Here there’s also controversy, as editor Kyril Bonfiglioli is stepping down. His editorial is short and brief – I’ll show it here.

Must admit, I felt that this was on the cards, although I expected the ending would be a little more graceful. I have said in recent issues how much Kyril seemed to be treading water, and this might explain it. Or perhaps it was the title-change to SF Impulse last month that was the last straw.

Harry Harrison in his new Editor role writes in Critique of the novelisation of the movie Fantastic Voyage, which I’ve already mentioned this month. He’s not a fan of the novelisation, although he is keen not to place blame solely with the “good doctor” Asimov.

The Rig by Chris Boyce

An odd one, which is partly science fiction horror and partly allegorical, I think. A strange lily plant grows in the North Sea, and Jalovec, a scientist, is sent to a nearby oil rig to determine what it actually is. It seems that the plant is telepathic and generates emotional responses in those humans around it. When the plant’s effect spreads to Britain, catastrophe ensues. I did wonder if this was a take on the social drugs movement and “flower power”. At a more visceral level it reads like a psychedelic version of Day of the Triffids.

I was more intrigued by the claim at the top on the banner that Boyce’s last story, George in the June issue of Impulse was popular, as I didn’t like it. But then what do I know? I’m not sure I love this one, either. 3 out of 5.

Martians at Dick’s End by Daphne Castell

Good to see the return of a female regular here, but as the title suggests, the story is a parody. Martians crashland near a remote farm at Dick’s End – cue lots of low-level sniggering – and the narrator tells of how their blacksmith grandfather and his fellow villagers help the Martians fix their ship. In the meantime these white furry aliens acclimatise by speaking with quotes from television, and learn pub games like shove ha’penny.

As I’ve said before, these either work for you or they don’t. For me, they usually don’t, although this one I found gently amusing. I must admit that it does bring a degree of levity after the rather po-faced Boyce story, although it would never happen in The Archers (a British radio soap opera, been running about 15 years now). 3 out of 5.

Timothy, by Keith Roberts

And the return of the ever-so-busy Mr. Roberts, who seems to be keeping the magazine going almost solo at the moment. Many will be pleased at the return of Keith’s Anita, the naughty teen witch of many a previous issue.

Personally, the Anita series has varied in quality for me – usually depending on how much Anita’s Granny is in the story – but they are often entertaining. This latest story tells of Timothy, a scarecrow Anita made last Spring and who she has now decided to bring to life. As expected, chaos ensues when Timothy falls in love with her. It reads rather like a British version of Disney’s Sorcerer’s Apprentice from Fantasia. Light and inoffensive, but might just satisfy the demand for more Anita stories. 3 out of 5.

The Writing Man by M. J. P. Moore

A new name to me here. It is one of those experimental stories that reads as a stream of consciousness until the twist at the end, which I saw coming from a long way away. It’s been done before, perhaps too many times. 2 out of 5.

Audition by Fred Wheeler

A new name. A mercifully short story.

Jodrell Bank receives a communication from space, which it replies to. Other countries then attempt their own responses, which leads to the killer last line. (Not.) More filler. As a brief story it reads more like a joke told in a pub. It is OK but you’ll never remember it once you’ve finished the magazine. 2 out of 5.

Make Room! Make Room! (Part 2 of 3), by Harry Harrison

Last month, I gave the first part of this a 5 out of 5 rating, something I don’t think I’ve ever done before. Admittedly, whilst it is basically a detective story set in a future dystopian setting, I was impressed by the nuanced characters and the descriptions of shabbiness and squalor in a world of overcrowded excess, crime and with a lack of resources.

This time around, Police Detective Andy Rusch is still investigating the death of crime boss “Big Mike” O'Brien. However, his relationship with O'Brien’s mistress Shirl has become complicated to the point where she moves in with Andy and his older friend Sol. The perpetrator of the crime, teenager Billy Chung, leaves the city and escapes to the decrepit Brooklyn Navy Yard where he meets Peter. Peter is another vagrant who is convinced that the world will come to an end at the oncoming millennium, but despite this the two find solace in looking after each other.

The story is still bleak. Much of it is about the situation around Andy and Shirl, which shows us unremitting squalor and decay. Whilst the O'Brien investigation is ongoing, it seems to take a step back here for the story to concentrate on other aspects. None of the characters come out of this well, yet their reasons for being like this in a dog-eat-dog world are clear.

I was interested to see if the story maintained its high score from last month, and I’m pleased to say that mainly because of the vivid imagery it still does. So again, 5 out of 5. We still have the murder to solve in the final part – I am interested to read how this one ends.

Summing up SF Impulse

This is not a bad issue. It could have been Kyril’s attempt to throw in anything left in the slush pile, but under the steering hands of Keith Roberts, it’s not that different to normal. Which raises the question of how long Roberts has been doing this for, with Kyril taking the credit.

In short, it’s another middle-mark issue overall, with some very good (e.g. the Harrison) and some not to my tastes. It’s not a disaster, which it could have been, but it is clear that there’s some filler here. My response is tempered by the fact that I realise how much hard work is going on behind the scenes to get an issue – anything like an issue – out on time.

Summing up overall

With everything going on this month, it perhaps shouldn’t be too much of a surprise for me to suggest that New Worlds is the significant ‘winner’ this month. Like Harrison’s novel for SF Impulse last month, the Moorcock story alone is almost enough to guarantee a win, but to which is also added a Ballard and an Aldiss which I thought were superior fare. More importantly, New Worlds shows a coherence and a quality that SF Impulse seems to lack. It is perhaps not surprising, though. It’ll be interesting to see if future issues of SF Impulse alter much with the change in management.

Until the next…



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Science Fiction/Fantasy, Serial

[August 20, 1966] Looking forward, looking back (September 1966 Fantasy and Science Fiction)

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by Gideon Marcus

Journeys to Come

We're now just a couple of weeks out from Tricon, the Cleveland-hosted Worldcon!  We'll get to mingle with our fellow fen, meet our favorite authors, drink lots of bheer, and figure out who gets to go home with a rocketship in their luggage.


Modern Cleveland

The much-ballyhooed new science fiction anthology, Star Trek, debuts on September 15.  However, all the fans are abuzz that they'll be privately showing the show's pilot at Tricon.  I hope you all will join us at Tricon to watch it!

Journeys we Have

As exciting as the things to come might be, we still have plenty of exciting stuff to enjoy right now.  To wit, this month's Fantasy and Science Fiction is quite a solid mag.


by Jack Gaughan

Luana, Gilbert Thomas

A mycologist (a real fun-gi) with a yen for sculpture combines both vocation and avocation when the latest Gemini brings home a space spore.  The resulting fruiting body proves warm, delicate, and eager to be carved.  The scientist does so, in the form that has occupied the efforts of sculptors since the Neolithic…with less than savory results.

A decade ago, this minor bit of titillation would have been fodder for Venture.  Cute but utterly forgettable.  Three stars.


by Gahan Wilson

The Productions of Time (Part 2 of 2), John Brunner

Last month, the author had left us on a tremendous cliffhanger.  Murray Douglas, a washed out but on the wagon film star (viz. Kirk Douglas in Two Weeks in Another Town) has been increasingly unsettled by the goings on at his latest production.  The writer, Delgado, seems deadset on sabotaging the play before it can gel, setting each of the actors and production crew at each other's throats.  The country retreat at which they are staying is equipped with the oddest of surveillance equipment, from two-way TVs to mysterious tape recorders placed just under a sleeper's pillows.  When Douglas calls Delgado on his actions, he wakes up the next morning with a severe headache and surrounded by half empty bottles of gin…

He quickly realizes it's all a set-up, and he heads to a local doctor to certify his utter sobriety.  Bolstering his sanity is the arrival of an unexpected ally: Heather, a member of the cast whose only purpose seems to be to sate the Lesbian tastes of another of the actresses, has also determined something odd is going on.  Douglas makes up his mind.  They will leave the retreat on the morrow.  But Delgado, and the unusually assertive valet, Valentine, have other plans.

Thus ensues the climax and rather satisfactory (though somewhat given away by the title) ending of this exciting novel.  It's rather short, so I'll be surprised if it gets turned into a full-length story.  Maybe one half of an Ace Double.  Nevertheless, it's a nice departure for the oft-brilliant author, notable for being told largely in dialogue (as befits a piece about play!)

Four stars.

Mr. Wilde's Second Chance, Joanna Russ

When the great playwright/poet arrives in the hereafter, he is offered the chance to rearrange the events of his luminous life into a more pleasing order.  The reward is, perhaps, another life.  Mr. Wilde is at once successful and unsuccessful.

I suspect I would have gotten more out of this story had I been more acquainted with the subject's work.  It's a four-star story regardless.

Municipal Dump, Max Gunther

R.J. Schroon, a rapacious hotelier with designs to bend the would-be paradise world of Cooltropic to his whim.  If it only weren't for the omnipresent, ever-irksome Bounders!  Fed up with these meddling puffballs, Schroon calls for their extermination.  He manages to eliminate one, frightening off the rest. 

Out of the frying pan…

This one feels like a lesser (though competent) tale from the early days of Galaxy.  Three stars.

Narrow Valley, R. A. Lafferty

The Wizard of Whimsy offers up this tale of a Pawnee, who protects his 160-acre reparation grant with a mighty spell.  It's not that others can't find the plot to poach — they just can't seem to get in!

A fun if rather trivial piece.  Three stars.

I'm Looking Over a Four-Leaf Clover, Isaac Asimov

In the conclusion to his articles on particles and cosmology, The Good Doctor offers up his own ideas on the origin of the universe.  In a nutshell, just as every subatomic particle seems to have both an opposite charged counterpart and a opposite baryon/lepton number, so the universe must have three counterparts so that the net value of energy and mass equals zero.  Add to this an 80 billion year boom and bust cycle, and one has a cosmos that requires no beginning or end, utterly symmetrical.

It's cute if nothing else.  And I'm banking on the nothing else.

Three stars.

Troubling of the Water, Zenna Henderson

Ms. Henderson has seemingly exhausted the modern day as a setting for her stories of The People.  The author is now recounting their first coming to Earth in the late 19th Century.  Water is a not-quite sequel to her last story.  A family in a Western territory (probably Henderson's native Arizona) finds their water supply dwindling below the sufficiency required for their crops.  On the eve of dessication, a member of The People, a race of gentle humanoid espers, literally falls from the sky in a ball of flame.

Zenna has told this story several times before: strange, gifted person (usually a child) is encountered/adopted by a human or group of humans.  Said alien eventually displays great powers to the benefit of the humans, and a bond of love is forged.

It's a testament to the author that the tale has not yet gotten old.  I do wonder if a collection of such stories (as is advertised as forthcoming) might be a bit much to take in one sitting, though.

Four stars.

Looking Back

In the end, the newest issue of F&SF breaks no new ground.  Indeed, had it been published in 1956 rather than 1966, I don't know that we'd have noticed (save for Asimov's piece, which relies on cutting edge science).  Still, it would have been one of the better issues of August 1956, just as it is one of the better amalgamations of SF in this month.

No complaints here!




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Magazine, Science Fiction/Fantasy

[August 10, 1966] Dollars and Cents (September 1966 Fantastic)

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by Victoria Silverwolf

Render Unto Caesar

There's a new way to lose your money when visiting Las Vegas. A hotel, showroom, and casino called Caesars Palace (no apostrophe) opened a few days ago. As the name implies, it has an ancient Rome theme rather than the Western theme found in most gambling dens in Sin City.


A showgirl advertises the grand opening. I don't think that's an authentic costume of the time.

The inauguration ceremony is said to have cost one million dollars, including money spent on huge amounts of caviar, filet mignon, crabmeat, and champagne.


A page from a brochure advertising the place. Or possibly an illustration for a time travel story.

The Deuce Gets Loose

Speaking of losing money, today the United States Department of the Treasury announced that it would no longer print two-dollar bills. (The U.S. Mint hadn't actually printed any since June 30, but now they're going to stop completely.)


Thomas Jefferson looks glum about the situation. At least he'll still be on the nickel.

Two-dollar bills only make up a tiny percentage of the paper money in circulation. Some folks think they're unlucky. They're welcome to give any they don't want to me.

Wild Success

One thing you can do with a two-dollar bill is buy a couple of 45 rpm single records, and maybe even have a little change left over. A lot of people are shelling out a buck or so for the current Number One smash hit Wild Thing by the British band the Troggs. This raw, energetic tune was originally recorded last year by an American group called, appropriately enough, the Wild Ones, but failed to reach the charts.


It's the only rock 'n roll hit I can recall that features an extended ocarina solo.

You Pays Your Money And You Takes Your Choice

If you've only got fifty cents to your name, you can still purchase a copy of the current issue of Fantastic. That's less than one-third of a cent per page, so it sounds like a pretty good deal.

Of course, as my esteemed colleague John Boston recently pointed out, both Amazing and Fantastic are publishing lots of reprints without paying the authors. Whether you want to support these publications or boycott them is your choice. As for me, duty calls.


Cover art by Frank R. Paul.

Of course, the image on the front is also a reprint, and I doubt it was paid for either. In any case, it comes from the back cover of the April 1942 issue of Amazing Stories.


Here's the original painting, titled City of the Future. Looks a lot better this way, doesn't it?

For a Breath I Tarry, by Roger Zelazny

As the cover announces, here's the author's newest story.

Wait a minute! Haven't I read this before? Let me see, where could it have been?

Oh, yeah, it appeared in the March issue of New Worlds, and was reviewed by my esteemed colleague Mark Yon just a few months ago. I hope the author got paid twice.


Anonymous cover art.

I cannot hope to match the quality of this outstanding article. I will simply offer my own views, for whatever they might be worth.


Illustrations by Gray Morrow.

Long after humanity has disappeared, Earth is controlled by machines. Orbiting the planet is the supreme ruler, Solcom. Dwelling deep underground is a rival machine, named Divcom. (An allegory with God and the Devil seems intended, and some of the story reminds me of the Book of Job. However, the plot is completely original, and not merely a retelling of the Bible story.)

Solcom creates a machine to rule the northern hemisphere, calling it Frost. The ruler of the southern hemisphere is Beta. Frost makes a hobby of studying what little remains of humanity's relics. A machine named Mordel, in the service of Divcom, comes to Frost with a supply of ancient books. These excite Frost's curiosity, and it sets out on a quest to understand human emotions; in fact, to become a human being. Mordel offers Frost a deal. It will give Frost all the aid it requires to achieve this goal, but if Frost comes to realize that the task is impossible, it will have to serve Divcom forever.

(An allusion to the legend of Faust also seems intended. Note the similarity in names.)

Frost travels to the southern hemisphere, in order to witness one of the last places where people dwelled. This act is in defiance of Solcom's will, leading to a conflict between creator and created. (We are told that a temporary malfunction in Solcom's operation, at the time it made Frost, caused Frost to be unique among machines. Perhaps this is a form of original sin.)


What Frost wants to be.

I have barely touched the surface of a remarkable story. I haven't mentioned, for example, the giant ore-digging machine that carries the remains of the human being it accidentally killed within itself, causing all the machines it encounters to listen to its story. The fact that it bears parts of a dead human is enough to make other machines obey it, a subtle and important point. I also haven't talked about the role Beta plays in the plot. Go see for yourself.

Five stars.

"You Can't See Me!", by William F. Temple

If we allow the Zelazny tale to be considered new, our first reprint comes from the June 1951 issue of Fantastic Adventures.


Cover art by Walter H. Hinton.

A fellow discovers that the people around him are happily conversing with folks he can't see. At first, a few others witness the same peculiarity, assuming the chatterers are crazy. Soon everybody succumbs to the delusion, and only the protagonist doesn't have an imaginary companion.


Illustration by Gerald Hohns. I assume all the reprinted drawings failed to earn the artists any new money, just like the writers.

Of course, there's an explanation for this strange happening. It's a pretty weak one, unfortunately, and the story just kind of fizzles out toward the end. Although it's not really a comedy, the fact that the main character has the unlikely name Zechariah Zebedee Zyzincwicz, and that this unusual moniker is relevant to the plot, tells you that you shouldn't take it too seriously.

Two stars.

Carousel, by August Derleth

This chiller comes from the April 1945 issue of Fantastic Adventures.


Cover art by R. E. Epperley.

A little girl lives with her father and a wicked stepmother, straight out of a fairy tale. The evil woman is insanely jealous of the man's affection for his daughter, and would even be happy to see her dead.


Illustrations by Robert Fuqua.

A few years before the story begins, a mob lynched a carnival worker, leaving behind a wrecked merry-go-round. The child often goes to play in the ruins, claiming to be friends with a black man. The wicked stepmother takes advantage of the situation to make sure the girl is punished for her actions, whipping her severely. She follows her to the merry-go-round, hoping that the dangerous machinery will cause the child to suffer a fatal accident. (The implication that the woman intends to cause the accident is pretty clear.) Things don't work out the way she expects.


The haunted carousel.

As you can probably tell from this synopsis, there are no surprises at all in the plot. It's a pretty ordinary horror story, of the supernatural punishment variety. Although the murder of the carnival worker is obviously due to racial hatred, this isn't really relevant, which lessens the story's impact.

Three stars.

The Little People, by Eando Binder

This fantasy novella first appeared in the March 1940 issue of Fantastic Adventures.


Cover art by Robert Fuqua.

A scientist, his adult daughter, and her boyfriend are in a cabin somewhere in a remote area. The gruesome discovery of a cat with its throat cut is the first hint that something weird is going on. The next odd happening is the disappearance of a gold watch.

We find out right away that a community of fairies, or whatever you want to call them, is located nearby. One of them went into the cabin to steal the watch as a sign of bravery, in order to win the hand of the woman he loves, and had to kill the cat to escape.


Illustrations uncredited. They might be by Robert Fuqua again.

A rival for the fairy woman's affection tries to outdo the other by stealing a pair of binoculars. He gets caught by the scientist, who wants to exploit the little people as a scientific curiosity. The two young people are more sympathetic to their plight. The rival acts as a traitor to his kind, helping the scientist capture others.


Happier times, before the big people trap them.

The fairy man who stole the watch undertakes the dangerous task of rescuing his people from their captor, as well as defeating the treacherous rival.

I may as well mention here that Eando Binder is a pseudonym, used by brothers Earl (deceased) and Otto Binder. They're best known for a series of stories about the robot Adam Link. My sources tell me that this story is the work of Otto alone. In any case, it's not a bad fairy tale, if not outstanding in any way. Animal lovers should be warned that the cat is not the only creature to fall victim to the diminutive hero.

Three stars.

The Psionic Mousetrap, by Murray Leinster

The March 1955 issue of Amazing Stories is the source for this Cold War thriller.


Cover art by Edward Valigursky.

Our hero parachutes into the Soviet Union on a suicide mission. His grim task is to kill a kidnapped scientist before he can reveal the secrets of powerful psionic technology to the Reds.


Illustration by Paul Orban.

Things go badly right from the start. The hero winds up in the hands of the enemy. They force him to complete the work of the captured scientist, which turns out to be their undoing.

I didn't get much out of this spy yarn. The plot depends on the fact that the Commies are too materialistic to believe in psionics, which was a little hard to swallow. The story's conclusion strains credulity as well. You'd expect something like this in a mediocre issue of Astounding, given the fact that psionics is pretty much just another word for magic.

Two stars.

No More Tomorrows, by David H. Keller, M.D.

Here's a Kelleryarn (as they used to call the works of this author) from the December 1932 issue of Amazing Stories.


Cover art by Leo Morey.

The narrator develops a substance that destroys the part of the brain that allows one to imagine the future. He plans to sell the secret of this stuff to a trio of Soviet agents for a ton of money.


Illustration by Leo Morey also.

He rather stupidly whips up a vial of the substance, as well as a vial of plain water, in order to brag about his plot to the woman he wants to marry. (He figures that being a multimillionaire will win her hand.) Predictably, she winds up switching the two vials, so the narrator is hoist by his own petard.

This story has an intriguing premise, but it isn't developed very well. As I've indicated, the switching of the two vials requires that the narrator act like a complete fool. (There doesn't seem to be any reason at all to have a vial of water around.) The three Soviet agents are bizarrely deformed, as the illustration indicates. I guess the author really hates Communism, but this makes the whole thing seem ridiculous.

Two stars.

Rocket to Gehenna, by Doris Piserchia

At last! A story that hasn't appeared anywhere else. It's the author's first publication, too. It's a comic tale in the form of a series of letters. (A work of epistolary fiction, for those of you with highfalutin vocabularies.)

It seems that Earth sends the bodies of the deceased to the supposedly uninhabited planet Gehenna. It turns out that the place is occupied by a caterpillar-like alien and a very naïve human boy. Since they have the power to transport anything from one place to another, they start sending bodies back to Earth. The boy also captures a woman, because he thinks he needs a wife, although he doesn't even know the basic anatomical facts of life.

This is all very silly stuff. It's obviously trying to be a wacky farce, but I didn't find it very amusing. Let's hope the author does better work in the future.

One star.

Did You Get Your Money's Worth?

The Zelazny story, all by itself, is worth the four bits you'll pay for the magazine. The rest of it goes downhill at a rapid pace. If you have half a buck to spare, you might want to give it a try.


That isn't exactly what I had in mind.

A copy of Rosel George Brown's new hit novel, Sibyl Sue Blue, is worth every penny! Buy one today!




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[August 2, 1966] Mirages (September 1966 IF)

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by David Levinson

The popular image of a mirage is a shining oasis in a desert replete with shady palm trees and sometimes dancing girls. That’s not how mirages work. We’re all familiar with heat shimmer, say on a hot, empty asphalt road, casting the image of the sky onto the ground and resembling water. Less common is the Fata Morgana, which makes it look as though cities or islands are floating in the sky. But the popular idea of the mirage remains: something beautiful and desirable, yet insubstantial.

Heat Wave

July was a real scorcher in the United States as a heat wave settled in over much of the Midwest. A heat wave might make a fun metaphor for passion if you’re Irving Berlin or Martha and the Vandellas, but as the latest hit from the Lovin’ Spoonful suggests, it can be a pretty unpleasant experience. As the mercury rises, people get pretty hot under the collar.

On July 12th, the Black neighborhoods on Chicago’s West Side exploded. The sight of children playing in the spray of a fire hydrant is a familiar one, but the city’s fire commissioner ordered the hydrants closed. The spark was lit when, while shutting off the hydrants, the police attempted to arrest a man, either because there was a warrant for his arrest (according to them) or because he reopened a hydrant right in front of them (according to the locals). As things escalated, stores were looted and burned, rocks were thrown at police and firemen and shots were fired. There were also peaceful protests led by Dr. Martin Luther King. Mayor Daley called in the National Guard with orders to shoot. Ultimately, the mayor relented. Police protection was granted to Blacks visiting public pools (all in white neighborhoods), portable pools were brought in and permission was given to open the hydrants.


Children in Chicago playing in water from a reopened hydrant

As things wound down in Chicago, they flared up in Cleveland. On the 18th in the predominantly Black neighborhood of Hough, the owners of the white-owned bar the Seventy-Niner’s Café refused ice water to Black patrons, possibly posting a sign using a word I won’t repeat here. Once again, there was looting and burning and the National Guard was called in. Things calmed after a couple of days, but heated up again when police fired on a car being driven by a Black woman with four children as passengers. It appears to be over now and the Guard has been gradually withdrawn over the last week. City officials are blaming “outside agitators” for the whole thing.

These riots are a stark reminder that the passage of the Civil Rights Act two years ago didn’t magically make everything better, and that problems also exist outside of the South. We have a long way to go before racial equality is more than just wishful thinking.


National Guardsmen outside the Seventy-Niner’s Café

Pretty, but insubstantial

Some of the stories in this month’s IF are gorgeously written, but lacking in plot. Sometimes that’s enough, sometimes it isn’t.


This fellow’s having a very bad day, but he’s not in The Edge of Night. Art by Morrow

The Edge of Night (Part 1 of 2), by A. Bertram Chandler

Commodore John Grimes has resigned both as Superintendent of Rim Runners and from the Rim Worlds Naval Reserve, effective as soon as his replacement arrives. The monotony of the situation breaks when a mysterious ship appears out of nowhere, refusing to answer any hails. Although there’s no hurry, he quickly assembles a crew, including his new wife, late of Terran Federation Naval Intelligence, and his usual psionics officer, whose living dog brain in a jar, which is used as an amplifier, is clearly nearing the end of its life.

The strange ship proves to be highly radioactive. It bears the name Freedom, painted over the older name Distriyir. Everyone aboard is dead, all humans dressed in rags. The only logical conclusion is that the ship is from an alternate universe (the walls between universes are thin at the rim of the galaxy) and the crew escaped slaves. Taking the ship back to its original universe, Grimes and his people learn that intelligent rats have enslaved humans out in the Rim Worlds in this universe. They resolve to correct the situation. To be continued.


The enemy fights like cornered rats. Art by Gaughan

Chandler has written several stories about John Grimes, though his only appearances so far at the Journey have been cameos in other stories set in the Rim. This story seems to be a direct sequel to Into the Alternate Universe, which was half of a 1964 Ace Double.

The story is wonderfully written, pulling the reader along in a way that can only be compared to Heinlein. The characters are strong and distinct, including a woman who is smart, tough, active and above all believable. There’s also a wealth of detail, such as the placement of instruments, clearly stemming from the author’s years serving in the merchant marine of the United Kingdom and Australia, which give verisimilitude to the ships and their crews.

While reading it, this absolutely felt like a four star story to me, but after letting it sit for a while, I’ve cooled slightly. A very, very high three stars.

The Face of the Deep, by Fred Saberhagen

In Masque of the Red Shift, Johann Karlson, the hero of the Battle of Stone Place, led a Berserker, an alien killing machine out to destroy all life, into an orbit around a collapsed star. In the story In the Temple of Mars, we learned of a plan to rescue Karlson. Here, we follow Karlson as he gazes in awe at the collapsed star and its effects on space. The Berserker pursuing him is unable to shoot his ship, but are the people who appear to rescue him the real thing or a ruse?

There isn’t much story here, but the prose is beautiful, pure sense of wonder. Saberhagen is clearly building up to something, probably a confrontation between Karlson and his half-brother, all no doubt to eventually wind up in a fix-up novel. This is only a brief scene in that larger tale, but the sheer poetry of the thing is enough.

Four stars.

The Empty Man, by Gardner Dozois

Jhon Charlton is a weapon created by the Terran Empire. Nearly invulnerable, incredibly strong and fast, he can even summon tremendous energies. Unfortunately for him, for the last three years, he has shared his mind with a sarcastic entity called Moros, which has appointed itself as his conscience. Now, Jhon has been sent to the planet Apollon to help the local rebels overthrow the dictatorial government.


Jhon Charlton deals with an ambush. Art by Burns

Gardner Dozois is this month’s new author, and this is quite a debut. It’s a long piece for a novice, but he seems up to it. There’s room for some cuts, but not much. The mix of science fiction and almost fantasy elements is interesting and works. The only place I’d say a lack of experience and polish shows it at the very end. The point is a bit facile and could have been delivered a touch more smoothly, but it’s a fine start to a new career. Mr. Dozois has entered the Army, though, so it may be a while before we see anything else from him.

A high three stars.

Arena, by Mack Reynolds

Ken Ackerman and his partner Billy are Space Scouts for a galactic confederation. They’ve been captured by the centauroid inhabitants of Xenopeven, who refuse to communicate with them. After several days of captivity, they’re separated, and Ken next sees Billy’s corpse being dragged from the sands of an arena. Vowing revenge, he finds himself the next participant in something like a Spanish bullfight, with Ken as the bull.


Ken after his encounter with the picadores. Art by Virgil Finlay

This is far from Reynolds’ best work. The action is decent, but the parallels with bullfighting are pointed out too explicitly (though maybe it’s necessary for readers who aren’t familiar with the so-called “sport”). However, there is a bit of a twist at the end – one that made me go back and double-check the text – that lifts the story out of complete mediocrity. So-so Reynolds is still pretty readable.

Three stars.

How to Live Like a Slan, by Lin Carter

This month, Our Man in Fandom takes a look at the fannish tendency to give names to inanimate objects. He starts off with the residences of fans sharing apartments and expenses, going back to the Slan Shack in Battle Creek, Michigan right after the War. Alas, the whole thing is largely just a list of in-jokes and things that were funny at the time. And I’ve known plenty of people with no interest in SF who have named their cars. It’s hardly restricted to fans.

Two stars.

The Ghost Galaxies, by Piers Anthony

In an effort to test the steady state theory and perhaps find out what happened to the first expedition, Captain Shetland leads the crew of the Meg II on a voyage to or beyond the theoretical boundary of the steady state universe. The ship’s logarithmic FTL drive increases speed by an order of magnitude every hour. As the ship passes one megaparsec per hour, the crew grows increasingly worried, and their mental state can affect the drive and the ship’s ability to return home.


Somnanda maintains the beacon which keeps the ship in contact with real space. Art by Adkins

This was a difficult story to summarize, or even understand. The writing is very pretty, with a dreamlike quality that mirrors the captain’s mental state and thought processes, but often left me unsure just what was going on. I came away with the feeling that there’s something here, but I have no idea what.

A low three stars.

Enemies of Gree, by C. C. MacApp

Steve Duke is deep behind enemy lines, this time with the B’lant Fazool and Ralph Perry from earlier Gree stories. They’re spying on a Gree excavation not far from the place where Gree first entered the galaxy. Strangely, there are animals here not native to the planet. There may also be an intelligent species nearby, watching both Steve and the Gree slaves.


The ull-ull aren’t native to this planet. Art by Morrow

I’m tired of these Gree stories. Even those that aren’t terrible have a sameness to them. In each of the last few stories, MacApp has made us think that those fighting Gree finally have what they need for victory. It’s time to wrap this series up. This one isn’t helped by the fact that every time Fazool gets mentioned I think of Van and Schenck or Bugs Bunny.

A low three stars.

The Hour Before Earthrise (Part 3 of 3), by James Blish

Dolph Haertel and Nanette Ford have been stranded on Mars, thanks to Dolph’s invention of anti-gravity. They’ve managed to survive, and last time Dolph discovered a radio beacon and set up an interruptor to attract attention. As the installment concluded, they encountered a feline-like predator. This proves to be an intelligent being. They manage to establish contact with Dohmn (the closest they can come to pronouncing its name) and make friends. Eventually, Dohmn leads them to the last surviving member of the original Martian race.


Dohmn introduces Dolph and Nanette to the last Martian. Art by Morrow

And so we reach the end, with everything wrapped up nice and neat. For humans anyway. I’m bothered by the last Martian bequeathing Mars to humanity rather than Dohmn’s people. It’s all a bit too facile, and I find myself returning to my original conception of this as a parody of SF juveniles, from Tom Swift to Heinlein to more recent examples as the story progresses. This certainly wouldn’t be my first pick to give a young reader.

A low three stars for this part and the novel as a whole.

Summing Up

There you have it. An issue that starts off hot and gradually grows tepid. Parts of it sure are pretty, though, even if they’re just hot air.


Dickson, Niven and the rest of the Chandler look promising. A new McIntosh novel less so.




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[July 31, 1966] Dimmed lights (August 1966 Analog)

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by Gideon Marcus

Blackout

This morning, Janice noted sparks coming from the socket by her typewriter desk.  With great swiftness, she unplugged the lamp and radio.  There was a respite, but only briefly, and soon the wall was spurting flame again. 

I heard her calm bellow, "Gideon, hit the circuit breaker.  Now."  You never saw someone descend a flight of stairs so fast (at least in control of their feet).  She called an electrician – fortunately the phone company have a separate power supply – and we went out for breakfast until the fellow could arrive.

That afternoon, we got a stern lecture on overloading our poor house's circuits.  We thanked and paid the fellow and were back to work by 1 pm.

Whereupon the entire neighborhood's power went out.

And that, dear readers, is why this article was typed by the light of the window rather than artificial incandescence!

Flicker, flicker

It was fitting that we should be failed by the men and women of our investor-owned, business-managed electric light and power company just as I turned to write about this month's Analog.  It's not that the stories were horrible, but I've definitely seen better in these pages.


by John Schoenherr

Too Many Magicians (Part 1 of 4), by Randall Garrett

To date, the Lord d'Arcy stories, set in an alternate 1960s with Victorian technology but replete with magic, have all been novellas or shorter.  This latest piece is the first full length novel.

A naval courier has been killed, perhaps while bearing crucial intelligence.  The Anglo-French Empire's most renowned magical detective is contracted to get to the bottom of the case.  Meanwhile, Sean O'Lochlainn, d'Arcy's sorcerer assistant, is thrown in the Tower after witnessing a second death at a wizards' conference; this locked-room murder has a similar murder weapon to the first.

And so, the setup for a magical who/howdunnit.  As with the rest of the series, Garrett's tale compels (though none engage so thoroughly as the excellent first d'Arcy adventure.) If I have a complaint, it's that Garrett is starting to rely a bit too much on pastiche: d'Arcy gets more like Holmes with every installment.  Indeed, his cousin, the Marquis, is Mycroft in all but name.  I half-expect our hero will take up the violin and acquire a cocaine habit.

Four stars so far, but we'll see.

Spirits of '76, by Joe Poyer


by Leo Summers

A representative from the UN pays a visit to a lunar squatter, who has illegally laid claim to a piece of the Moon's surface and established a distillery.  After a great many homebrewed drinks, the agent decides that free enterprise and private ownership are actually just fine.

I suspect maintaining an independent habitation on our airless neighbor will be a lot harder than this story would have us believe.  Still, the libertarian spirit of the piece surely tickled Campbell's capitalist heart.

It'll go in one eye and out the other, but it's harmless, at least.  Three stars?

One MOL Step Forward , by Lyle R. Hamilton

Hamilton opens up this non-fiction article with a promise to explain how the X-20 "Dynasoar" spaceplane was killed by paperwork.  Instead, he offers up a meandering piece, told largely in contractor interviews and press releases, which culminates in a description of the Manned Orbiting Laboratory.  This budget space station, serviced by an Air Force Gemini, is the current DoD space project of size.

I suppose there's useful information in the piece, but not much point.  I've gotten much better insight from my subscription to Aviation Week and Space Technology.

Two stars.

Psychoceramic, by John W. Campbell, Jr.

The fearless editor follows Hamilton with a shorter piece on a ceramic that can apparently extract pure oxygen and produce power at the same time.  Typical Campbellian kookery, or is he onto something?  I guess only time will tell.

Two stars for the unnecessary smugness and having cried wolf too many times.

By the Book, by Frank Herbert


by Kelly Freas

An aged troubleshooter is summoned from retirement to fix a big beam.  It's some kind of launching laser that propels seed packets (vegetable and human) toward colony worlds.  Problem is, it keeps killing technicians trying to service it.

I had many problems with this story, the biggest of which was the devotion of so many words to setting up a technical problem whose resolution I had no interest in.  A real snoozefest of gizmo-speak.

One star.

Technicality, by Norman Spinrad

The MPs have arrived, fearsome conquering aliens whose greatest strength is their ability to vanquish whole armies without firing a shot.  But does their nonviolent rapaciousness hide an Achilles Heel?

While the gimmick falls a little flat, Spinrad tells this no-blood-or-guts tale with fine detail and not a little subtle satire.

Three stars.

Light of Other Days, by Bob Shaw


by Kelly Freas

A quarreling married couple touring the Scottish Highlands come across a purveyor of "slow glass."  This remarkable substance passes light so slowly that, after ten years of absorption, will replay the scene that played across it for the next decade.  Thus, a city dweller might install one of these wonder panes and enjoy ten years of a view of the rugged north of Scotland rather than local squalor.

The technical bits felt a little overdone, but Shaw tells the story with a light, domestic touch that reminds me of Cliff Simak.

Three stars, and eagerness to see him tackle a longer subject.

Something to Say, by John Berryman


by Leo Summers

Last up, the fellow who gave us the Walter Bupp psychic stories gives us, instead, one of his more nuts-and-bolts tales.  The Earth Federation (apparently an evolution of the UN) has reason to believe that Soviet-aligned agents have infiltrated a primitive world to poison the natives against the West.  Said planet has a breathable atmosphere some six times as dense as Earth's.  This affords a far more airborne ecology, and even the indigenes have Bronze Age flying machines.

A troubleshooter is dispatched to thwart the Soviet plot, but is overpowered by a Communist.  The two crash land and are taken prisoner.  The Sovworld agent seems to have the leg up, as she is fluent in the indigenous tongue, but our plucky hero has an ace up his sleeve: an encylopedic knowledge of gliders.

There is a good story lurking in here, with a great setting and a decent setup.  It is hampered by its truly insufferable and two-dimensional characters.  As well, Berryman seems to have forgotten much that he's learned about pacing.

An uneven three stars.

After the lights go out…

2.7 stars is not a great score, though it's actually the median for this year's crop of Analogs.  And also for the month.  Coming in below it are IF (2.6), Galaxy (2.5), Worlds of Tomorrow (2.2), and Amazing (1.9).  Note that three of those four are Fred Pohl's triplets.

Ahead of Analog are Fantasy and Science Fiction (3.1), New Worlds (3.2), and Impulse (3.4)

There was exactly one woman-penned new story this month, and four/five-star stories would have barely filled two slim magazines (and one of them is a reprint of Make Room, Make Room!).

Ah well.  At least there's only one more month of summer, after which, ironically, things should get brighter!

Have you gotten your copy of Rosel George Brown's new hit novel, Sibyl Sue Blue?  If not, get down to your local newsstand and pick it up!




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[July 28, 1966] Cat People and Overpopulation (SF Impulse and New Worlds, August 1966)

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by Mark Yon

Scenes from England

Hello again!

After my brief mention at the end of last month about England and the soccer World Cup, I had better start by congratulating them on their tournament win since last time we spoke. The country does seem to have got behind them – indeed, there’s been little else talked about here since they won. Whilst I’m not a fan of football (soccer to you!) particularly, I must curmudgeonly admit that the mood of the country has been rather pleasant.

In this spirit of optimism and change, there’s also been some interesting changes with the British magazines. At the moment I’m not sure whether these changes have been made for good reasons or bad, but they might just stir life into the magazines that have rather been treading water on the whole over the last few months.


Cover by Keith Roberts – again!

To Impulse first.

Or rather SF Impulse. Notice the subtle change? The magazine seems to be trying to attract the interest of traditional readers by nailing its genre roots firmly to the mast. Interestingly, I understood that this was something the editor Kyril Bonfiglioli was keen not to do when the magazine changed its name to Impulse.

In fact, where is Kyril? The magazine has no Editorial at all this month, instead going with a “Critique” by Harry Harrison instead. This was mentioned in last month’s issue, although I was rather expecting Kyril to be about as well. Has he been deposed? Perhaps after his complaints about not knowing what an Editor does in the last few issues this leaves Kyril with more time to – you know – edit.

Let’s move on. To this month’s actual stories.

Make Room! Make Room! (Part 1 of 3), by Harry Harrison

When this was mentioned as coming up, I was very pleased. The magazine was going to have to do something big to cap Keith Roberts’ Pavane series for me, and this was clearly it.

Mind you, I have been less impressed with Harrison’s last two serialised novels, Plague From Space and Bill, the Galactic Hero (shudder.) But this one sounded great.

Whereas this is just the first part for us in Britain, being in the USA fellow Galactic Journey-er Jason Sacks has had the chance to read the whole novel, lucky thing. His wonderful review goes into much more depth and detail than I would here. So I will point out his review, with thanks, and say that so far I agree with everything he has said.

This is the best Harrison I’ve read in ages, if not one of the best stories in Impulse to date. Admittedly, its scenes of shabbiness and squalor are rather depressing, but its description of a world of overcrowded excess, crime and a lack of resources is done with imagination and flair. The situation is entirely possible and the characters appropriate for that setting. I hope the quality continues. I was so impressed, I’m awarding it 5 out of 5 – my first, I believe.

Wolves by Rob Sproat

After such a great start it would be difficult to maintain such a standard, and so we go from the great to the typical “Bonfiglioli filler”, had Kyril been here. This is the third story we’ve had in the magazines from Rob, none of which have particularly impressed me, sadly. And so it is again here. A story of creatures that have haunted Mankind for millennia and yet are rarely seen. When their presence is noted by a drunken man, he is killed. Lots of talk here about Ancient Ones that doesn’t seem to mean much. A weak horror story that is bleak and yet strangely predictable. 3 out of 5.

The First, Last Martyr by Peter Tate

Another relatively new author, who seems to be liked by many readers. His last story was The Gloom Pattern, in the June 1966 issue of New Worlds. This one is a tale of Hubert Flagg, a window dresser whose occupation makes him part of the pop-culture and yet inwardly he hates it. As an act of rebellion against current trends and to become a celebrity, Flagg attempts to kill people at a concert by the current pop favourite The Saddlebums, which I guess is not just a comment on society but also a bit of a dig at bands like The Beatles. On a good day this could have been a satire in the same vein as Moorcock’s Jerry Cornelius, but instead it just seems odd, and not in a particularly good way. 3 out of 5.

Disengagement, by T. F. Thompson

Another surreal ramble through the viewpoints of various characters. Think of it like an inferior Frankenstein story from multiple perspectives, a similar re-tread of clichés that seems all too similar to Robert Cheetham’s The Failure of Andrew Messiter in last month’s New Worlds. (Are new ideas really that hard to come by?)

It seems more like a Hammer Horror film than the “really chilly horror” the banner attempts to persuade me it is. Although actually I like Hammer Horror movies… this less so. Some of the characterisation is awful. Any story that has a character named “Doctor Dog” and tries to make a joke out of it deserves not to be taken seriously. Marks for effort, not originality. 2 out of 5.

A Comment by E. C. Tubb

E C Tubb returns with an opinion piece on the state of science fiction, rather akin to Harrison’s Critique at the beginning of the issue. Here Tubb takes on the thorny issue of sex in science-fiction, pointing out that it has been around longer than sf and it is wrong for the New Wave to “dwell on it”. To quote, “The more sex you put in a story the less action, characterisation, futuristic background, scientific content and plain, old, entertainment value you leave out.”

Whilst I understand the author’s point of view, it does read a little like one of the oldsters complaining about the new kids on the block.

The Scarlet Lady by Alistair Bevan

Lastly, back to the stories. Here we have the return of Alistair, a regular author but who is also author/editor/artist Keith Roberts. Both names have appeared regularly in these magazines.

Here Alistair continues an ongoing theme of motor car stories. His last was a rather excitable story of future traffic congestion, road rage and restrictive laws in the story Pace That Kills back in the May 1966 issue of Impulse. By contrast, this is a tale that attempts to emulate Weird Tales in its story of a possessed car and its effect on two brothers and their respective families. No reason is given for the automobile’s actions, which show a constant drain on the owner’s monetary funds and a taste for blood. Whilst it is – please pardon the expression – as cliched as hell, I must admit that I quite enjoyed it for all of its silliness. Some of the passages reminded me in style and tone of Roberts’ version of contemporary lifestyle as read in The Furies in July – September 1965. It is too long, but was a fun read. Much better than the last story, for all of its limitations. 3 out of 5.

Summing up Impulse

And that’s it for SF Impulse this month. At over 80 pages most of the magazine is taken up with Harrison’s novel, which is its selling point. As a result, I liked the issue a lot, even when the rest of the material suffers by comparison. I was surprised by how much I enjoyed the Bevan story, even if it is repeating old cliches.

And with this, onto issue 165 of New Worlds, hoping that it is also better this month.

The Second Issue At Hand


Cover by Keith Roberts – him again!

Like last month’s New Worlds the Editorial is not by editor Moorcock, but a film review by a guest reviewer. Last month, La Jetee was praised by J. G. Ballard as something extraordinary.

This month, Alphaville directed by Jean-Luc Godard has a rather different response. Guest reviewer John Brunner begins his review with “Let’s get one thing straight to begin with. Alphaville is a disgracefully bad film, reflecting no credit to anybody – especially not on those critics who have puffed it as a major artistic achievement.” Well, that should certainly grab the reader’s attention!

To be fair, Brunner makes some good points, although the review really reminds me that all reviews are little but opinions and in this world the New Wave will gain as much criticism as praise. Our own Kris Vyas-Myall reviewed Alphaville, for example, and had a very different response. Interestingly, Brunner does add that La Jetee, reviewed by Ballard last month and seen by Brunner as a double-bill, completely overshadows Alphaville.

Brunner’s writing is entertaining, though, and as a deliberately provocative read is a much more interesting read than any of the other Editorials of late.

To the stories!


Illustration by James Cawthorn

Amen and Out, by Brian Aldiss

Another appearance from Harry Harrison’s friend Brian Aldiss, who was also here last month. (Again: has anyone ever seen the two of them in one room together?) The cover describes this story as ”Irreverent, thought-provoking stuff that only Aldiss can do well”, which I agree with, although I would further qualify by pointing out that such irreverence can also lead to wildly uneven material from Mr. Aldiss.

(Where has “Dr. Peristyle” gone to, by the way? Just a thought.)

The good news is that this one is not quite as madcap as it could have been. Amen and Out is a story of a future where a number of characters with different backgrounds are at the Immortality Investigation Project – one is a supervisor of the immortals, one a young assistant, one an acid head itinerant and the other a doorman. They each communicate with their Gods, and are all consequently given instructions with various consequences for themselves and the Immortals held in the Project. The twist in the story is that the Gods are actually an AI. It’s good fun, and feels like Aldiss wrote it with a permanent grin on his face, though will no doubt offend anyone seriously beholden to a religion. A 4 out of 5.

The Rodent Laboratory, by Charles Platt

Charles Platt’s been a regular here for a while. This is a story of rats in a laboratory being observed as a group social experiment, and what can happen when the rats develop new behaviour and the scientific community watching them are put under stress. It gains points from me for being a ‘proper’ science-experiment-based story with a touch of the laboratory experiment pulp stories of the 1930s, although the ending is almost something out of Weird Tales. Overall, it reads well enough but feels like minor-league stuff, nothing we’ve not read before. 3 out of 5.


With a lack of artwork this month we have instead this quote, which seems to have inspired the story.

Stalemate in Time, by Charles L. Harness

I’ve mentioned in the past of Charles being a veteran author who seems to be trying to embrace the New Wave of writing. If sales of his novel The Rose are anything to go by, this has been popular, if met with varying degrees of success.

Here we have a reprint. The story was first published as Stalemate in Space back in 1949. Now renamed, it does feel like an old-style piece of pulp fiction. This is clearly intentional – the story begins with a purple-prosed quote from Planet Stories which seems to sum it up nicely. I’m not quite sure what Mike is trying to do here. Is this one of those examples to show that ‘the old stuff’ is still worth reading, as he did with Harness’s Time Trap back in the May 1965 issue? Or is it just filler? Whatever the reason, Stalemate in Space is an engaging if dated Space Opera story, which makes up with enthusiasm what it lacks in logic – but I wish the magazines would stop trying to sneak reprints to bulk out their issues. 3 out of 5.

Look On His Face, by John Kippax

William Kibbee is a Christian priest on a mission to the planet of Kristos V. Unsubtle, heavy-handed religious allegory. 2 out of 5.


Illustration by James Cawthorn

The Transfinite Choice, by David Masson

The return of recent genre superstar David Masson whose sudden and dramatic appearance in these magazines has been stellar, although with slightly diminishing returns. Here is the story of Naverson Builth, who finds himself transported from 1972 to the year 2346. Lots of difficulties with language, which seems to be a Masson specialty, before we discover that Naverson finds himself working for a world government known as Direct Parameter Control. There are some interesting concepts put forward to Builth in this future, and some in turn suggested by Bulith, before the story crashes to a halt with a poor ending that we’ve come across before. Masson’s writing is still readable and still involves ambitiously big ideas, but I rather feel David has passed his peak. A slightly disappointing 3 out of 5.


Illustration by James Cawthorn

The Keys to December by Roger Zelazny

I have repeatedly said that I think that Roger is one of the best American writers of recent years to have taken on the New Wave of science fiction and run with it. He keeps producing quality stories which are thoughtful, readable and also genuinely original. His last story here, For A Breath I Tarry, has been rightly nominated in this year’s Hugo Awards. So any return to these Brit magazines is something to be pleased about, I think.

And this is another cracker. The key premise is that in this future people can be adapted pre-birth in order to cope with the environment they will live on. It is different to the usual Zelazny fare, beingless philosophical and surprisingly hard-science-based, something that I could see Poul Anderson or Hal Clement writing.

To this Roger sets up a situation that Jarry Dark, a homeless Coldworld catform, his betrothed Sanza and his friends in the December Club who have put up the money, move to a planet where they will terraform the planet into something they can use. Whilst reconnoitring the planet they observe a species that they call Redform that even though thousands of years will pass to allow for adaptation will be unable to adapt in the face of their impending catastrophic event.

Knowing that the intelligent species will die but at the same time being unable to do anything about it sets up the sort of dilemma that challenges both the reader and the characters, and at the end gave me an emotional reaction akin to Tom Godwin’s The Cold Equations.

Surprisingly different for Zelazny, both elegaic and emotional, I can see this one being nominated for future awards. A high 4 out of 5.

Letters and Book Reviews

We begin this month with Bill Barclay giving a potted biography of writer and anthologist Sam Moskowitz and then reviewing Moskowitz’s latest book of biographical essays. It does sound interesting.

James Colvin (aka Mike Moorcock) then covers a broad range of material. A highlight this month is Colvin being rather unsurprisingly unimpressed with Asimov’s novelisation of the movie Fantastic Voyage. The subtitle for this review, Per Ardua Ad Arteries did make me laugh, as well as the clinical evisceration of the novel.

The shorter reviews, all written by initialled reviewers, include story collection The Saliva Tree by a certain Brian W Aldiss, many of which have appeared in these magazines, Judith Merril’s 10th edition of The Year’s Best SF and the 15th volume of The Best from Fantasy and Science Fiction. All are liked – Zelazny comes out particularly well – though these three books show me the divide in style and content opening up between the old style stories and the so-called New Wave. Things are still changing….

Lastly there is a great review for Edgar Pangborn’s A Mirror for Observers, which ”stands head and shoulders above most sf”.

Very pleased to see the return of Letters pages this month. Generally detailed and thought-provoking, though generally still raking over the same themes of "What is SF?" and "What is this new SF?"

Summing up New Worlds

A stellar line up, with many of Moorcock’s favourite writers here. Whilst I could quibble and say that some of these stories from writers with a proven track record are not the author’s best, there are many that are very good. Aldiss is good but, unsurprisingly, Zelazny’s story is better. It’s not quite perfect (Kippax, I’m thinking of your story), but there’s a great deal of range and a good deal of quality. One of the best issues of New Worlds for a long time.

Summing up overall

A tough choice this month. Harrison’s novel is the best thing I’ve read here and dominates Impulse, quite rightly, although most of the rest are unmemorable. By contrast, the stories in New Worlds are not quite as good, but the range of the quality is greater. Zelazny’s story in New Worlds is as good as Harrison’s and this is the best New Worlds I’ve read for a few issues.

So – very pleased to say that both magazines have (thank goodness!) improved enormously this month. Whilst Harrison’s serial novel seriously impresses in the new SF Impulse, the range and breath of quality makes New Worlds the best this month. Let’s hope this continues. Must admit, the next New Worlds sounds good…

Until the next…



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Magazine, Science Fiction/Fantasy, Serial

[July 22, 1966] Ridiculous! (August 1966 Amazing)

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by John Boston

The Sublime Don’t Work Here No More

. . . Not that it showed up very often when it did.  But the previous issue, which at last attained the status of “not bad,” raised hopes, now dashed again.

The theme of this August 1966 Amazing is plainly announced on the cover, a crude and silly-looking image by James B. Settles, from the back cover of the July 1942 Amazing, titled Radium Airship of Saturn.  You might also think that it doesn’t make much sense, but you’d be wrong!  What you see is actually the top two-thirds of the 1942 version; what you’re missing is the surface of Saturn, and a caption: “The motor in this air-ship is a disintegrating rocket-blast caused by the breaking down of a copper core by a stream of powerful radium rays concentrated on it.  It acts like a giant fireworks rocket.” It’s science!


by James B. Settles

Inside, the theme is carried forward with the conclusion of the Murray Leinster serial begun in June, a new novelet by Philip K. Dick, and five reprinted stories, particulars below.  The brightest spot in the issue is the absence of an editorial, though the usual brief and praiseful letter column is present.

While the editor misses no chance to bad-mouth the magazine’s prior regime, directly and through his selection of letters to publish, one thing has remained constant, and has seemingly intensified: the abominable proofreading.  (“Strickly speaking,” indeed.)

There's also a different sort of difficulty facing Amazing and Fantastic now.  It's been rumored for a while that they are not paying the authors for the reprinted material, which is now confirmed for those not plugged into the more authoritative gossip channels.  Kris Vyas-Myall has helpfully flagged the new issue of the fanzine Riverside Quarterly, in which the editor mentions that he confirmed with Kris Neville that he did not get paid for his recently reprinted story, and confirmed with Damon Knight, president of the newly constituted Science Fiction Writers of America, that this is the general practice. 

I suppose this may reflect the publishing practice prevalent in earlier years of buying "all rights" (sometimes simply by so noting on the author's check, with no more formal contract than that).  So maybe it's legal, but it stinks.  Knight has called on the members of SFWA to boycott the publisher until it changes its ways, and editor Leland Sapiro suggests that readers do the same with the magazines.  I'd take that advice, but duty dictates otherwise.

Stopover in Space (Part 2 of 2), by Murray Leinster

Murray Leinster’s latest Western treads a familiar path.  There’s a new sheriff, but he’s not really quite in town yet, because somebody doesn’t want him there, and it probably has to do with the stagecoach full of gold that is expected to arrive any day now.  It seems like business as usual from the author of Kid Deputy, Outlaw Guns, and Son of the Flying ‘Y’.

Oh, wait.  Sorry.  Wrong rut.  Trying again:

In Murray Leinster’s latest space opera, Lieutenant Scott of the Space Patrol is on his way to take over his first command, Checkpoint Lambda, a station orbiting the star Canis Lambda, whose system is of no special interest except that no fewer than six space lanes cross there.  (Didn’t know space has lanes?  People established them, I suppose so no one will get lost.) En route, Scott learns that several passengers had been supposed to leave Lambda on a ship recently, but didn’t, under peculiar circumstances—and one of them was “a girl.” This bears repetition, to the author and to Scott; a few pages later, Scott is reviewing the available facts, and notes that “passengers—including a girl—hadn’t left the checkpoint when they should.”


by Gray Morrow

Now, what could be happening?  Scott doesn’t know, but he does know the Golconda Ship is expected to show up at Lambda in the near future.  That ship is owned by a bunch of guys who went somewhere nobody knows and came back with a load of “treasure” which made them rich, and they go back for more every four years or so.  What kind of treasure?  Gold, platinum, radioactives, miracle cures from an unknown planet, the secret wisdom of an ancient civilization?  Doesn’t say, now or at any other point until the end of the story.  For the author’s purposes, you don’t need to know.  It’s just a game piece.

So what seems to be going on here?  Owlhoots!  Er, sorry.  Gangsters!  Scott is strongly discouraged from debarking onto Checkpoint Lambda, but insists, and finds himself going through the motions of normality with some slovenly types pretending to be the station crew.  He meets their nominal mastermind, one Chenery, who pretends to know Scott—and, before too long, he encounters the real power, whom Chenery recruited, and who is known as—Bugsy!  He is there to provide and direct the muscle, er, blastermen.*

* No, Bugsy and the Blastermen did not play at last Saturday’s sock hop.  That was somebody else.

So, here are the pieces in play: a good guy, some bad guys, treasure to be fought over, “a girl” to be protected.  What else do we need?  Oh yes, an external menace.  How about the Five Comets?  The Canis Lambda system has no planets—they all blew up eons ago, and the Checkpoint is attached to one of the bigger pieces—but it has some really fine comets, and they are all going to arrive at about the same time, right athwart the Checkpoint’s orbit—and there’s no astrogator, except for Scott!  (One might ask why the powers that be wouldn’t put the Checkpoint in some other location than the entirely predictable convergence point of multiple comets, but one would be wasting time to do so.)

The “girl”—an adult woman, of course—does have a name, Janet, though no others are disclosed.  Her full name would have to be (apologies to Alfred Hitchcock) Janet S. MacGuffin (“S” for Secondary), since she drives a part of the plot.  One of Scott’s challenges is to keep her safe from . . . well, let her tell it.  She says that Chenery “did keep the others from—harming me.” Such an eloquent dash! 

But clearly, as in last year’s Killer Ship, women have no role in tough situations other than to create the need for men to protect them.  At one point, Scott parks Janet for safekeeping in one of the Checkpoint’s lifeboats, gives her a snap course in operating it if necessary, and reassures her: “It’s not a very good chance.  But there aren’t many women who could make it a chance at all.  I think you can.” She doesn't have to try.  Later, though, Scott gives her something to do—maneuver the station to avoid comet debris while he’s busy elsewhere—and she blows it.  But he promises himself not even to hint at criticizing her, and at the end, after all is safely resolved, she is performing women’s other function in Leinster’s fiction as she and Scott get better acquainted.

This one is a little less vapid than Killer Ship, and considerably less irritating, since it lacks the constant reminders that interstellar travel will be just like the eighteenth century.  It’s just as verbose as Killer Ship, but the padding is a little better connected to what is actually going on in the story, and there is a bit more cleverness to the plot.  So, two stars for this played-out and left-behind author. 

Your Appointment Will Be Yesterday, by Philip K. Dick

The other new story is Your Appointment Will Be Yesterday, by the more-prominent-every-day Philip K. Dick, which once more vindicates my warning: when big names show up at the bottom of the market, there’s a reason for it.  This is a story about time running backwards.  It starts with a guy getting up in the morning (wait a minute—morning?), getting some dirty clothes to put on, and picking up a packet of whiskers to glue evenly onto his face, presumably to be absorbed over the course of the day.  So where do these whiskers come from, and who puts them into packets, and how are they distributed?  What happens if you run out?  And why does anyone bother with them?


by Gray Morrow

It goes on.  People begin conversations with “good-bye” and end with “hello,” but they don’t talk backwards in between.  Et cetera.  Sorry, it doesn’t work.  PKD’s specialty is making preposterous ideas at least momentarily plausible, but this one is too long a stretch.  It’s not enough for the reader to suspend disbelief; for this story you’d have to shoot it out of a cannon.

There’s more, of course, but not better.  Dick does have enough knack as a storyteller to keep things readable as the reader fumes over the contradictions, so, two stars.

The Voice of the Void, by John W. Campbell, Jr.

The Voice of the Void was John W. Campbell, Jr.’s fourth published story, from the Summer 1930 Amazing Stories Quarterly, and at first it’s sort of refreshing: the story of humanity’s quest for survival as the sun is burning out, first disassembling large parts of the solar system and moving pieces closer to the sun, then looking for a new home around a younger or longer-lived star. 


by Hans Wessolowski

The story is about 98% character- and dialogue-free, though the astronomer Hal Jus has several cameos along the way.  Instead, it chronicles a long course of human discovery and problem-solving, grandiose and grave in equal measure.  It is a little reminiscent of Edmond Hamilton’s Intelligence Undying of a few issues back, if that story had been administered a mild sedative.

But things turn dark soon enough.  Humanity wants Betelgeuse for its new home.  But it turns out there’s no vacancy there—that system is inhabited by energy beings who don’t take kindly to human invasion.  Allegedly they are not intelligent, but their facility at fatally repelling unwanted visitors suggests otherwise.  Now, Betelgeuse is not necessary to human survival.  There’s another star handy; it doesn’t have planets, but the human fleet is so large that humanity could hang out for a few years in orbit and build some suitable planets.  But we want Betelgeuse!  So the indigenes have to go, and are exterminated in a siege of human-devised energy rays.

Well, that puts a damper on things.  Gratuitous genocide can ruin one’s whole reading experience.  Two stars with clothespin on nose.

The Gone Dogs, by Frank Herbert

Frank Herbert’s The Gone Dogs (November 1954 issue) is a slightly more interesting bad story than many, rather crudely written—surprisingly so, since it appeared only a year before Herbert’s much more capable and ambitious Under Pressure a/k/a The Dragon in the Sea.  On the other hand, it’s free of the turgidity of his current work, especially the characters’ internal monologues about the motives and intentions of one another.  Pick your poison. 

In the story, an artificially mutated virus is killing off all the world’s dogs, abetted by the fact that humans carry the virus; how to save the species?  One solution, highly unauthorized, is to give the last few to the Vegans, who are trying to breed dogs, or something like them.  Matters are enlivened along the way by a psychotic dog lover who’s determined to grab one of the last living dogs for herself (and will kill it with the virus she’s carrying).  At the end there's a slightly silly and anticlimactic twist.

One thing that’s annoying here is the hyper-facile and acontextual (thoughtless, for short) deployment of standard components from the SF warehouse.  At one point the main character needs to dodge a congressional subpoena.  What better way than to flee to Vega?  All by himself, with a forged pass to a faster-than-light spaceship which any idiot, or at least a biologist, can apparently navigate solo across interstellar distances, without notice and whenever the need arises.  There’s no reason in the rest of the story to believe in this capability.  This sort of thing was common in ‘50s SF but that doesn’t make it more palatable.  Two stars.

The Pent House, by David H. Keller, M.D.

David H. Keller, M.D., is in the position, unusual for him, of providing the least ridiculous story in the issue, chiefly because he essays so little.  The Pent House, from the February 1932 Amazing, is a minor exercise in benign crankiness.  A rich guy who is also a doctor discovers that humanity is about to be wiped out by the spread of a cancer germ, so he sets up a nice sealed-off apartment on top of a tall building, makes arrangements for a generous supply of life’s necessities and amenities, and advertises for a couple who really like each other to take on a lucrative job for five years.  The lucky winners persuade him to stay with them in the (large) apartment. 


by Leo Morey

Blissful years pass.  The woman of the couple is not feeling well, so the old rich doctor goes in to look at her and some hours later tells the husband, “It’s a girl.” He hadn’t noticed his wife’s pregnancy.  Maybe this is not the least ridiculous story here after all.

More time passes, the five years are up, and the old guy goes downstairs to check things out.  Turns out the cancer epidemic was thwarted by medical science.  So things are the same?  No—noisier, dirtier, generally less civilized (to summarize an extensive rant).  “It seemed to me that the world has escaped the cancer death so it could die from neurasthenia,” pronounces the doctor.  He’s ready to pay the couple the fortune they have earned and bid them adieu, but the wife says forget it, just order up some more supplies and let’s lock the door for another five years of "Heaven in a penthouse."  Two stars for competent rendering discounted for triviality.

The Man Who Knew All the Answers, by Donald Bern

The Man Who Knew All the Answers, from the August 1940 Amazing, is bylined Donald Bern, who was actually Al Bernstein, who has half a dozen or so credits in Amazing and Fantastic Adventures in 1940-42, and nothing else in the SF magazines.  Frankly, just as well.  This is a silly story about a nasty guy named Scuttlebottom, who stumbles (literally) into Ye Village Book Stall, and encounters the proprietor (“He wore a pince-nez.  He looked exactly like a person who wears a pince-nez.”), who sells him a book called The Dormant Brain.  The book teaches him to become telepathic, so now he knows what everybody thinks of him, which is unpleasant, and he then comes to a contrived bad end as a result of his new talent.  One star per the ground rules, despite this story’s utter lack of any reason for existing. 

The Metal Martyr, by Robert Moore Williams

Robert Moore Williams’s The Metal Martyr, from the July 1950 Amazing, is a mildly clever but overall pretty silly story about a robot, named Two, who develops the delusion that he is a man—this in the far future, long after a rumored rebellion by robots against humans, and the fall of human civilization.  Two flees the robot enclave to avoid having its brain dissolved and replaced, and comes across a couple of humans, named Bill and Ed, never mind the intervening millennia.  Two visits them at their home cave, but some of the humans get scared and threaten it, so Two flees deeper into the cave.  There it discovers the remains of an ancient mining site full of machinery, skeletons, and books explaining the past and how things got to their present metal-poor state—and showing no robots, revealing that humans once did just fine without them.  Two recovers from its delusion of humanity.  After giving the humans their past back (although they, unlike robots, can’t read), Two heads back to robotdom and its rendezvous with the acid vat.


by Edmond B. Swiatek

Williams was once a titanically prolific contributor to pulps of all genres, but most frequently SF and fantasy, and within them, most frequently to Ray Palmer’s Amazing and Fantastic Adventures, where he was part of the regular crew that filled those magazines with juvenilia.  Palmer was gone before this one appeared, but it is true to the tradition.  Two stars, charitably.

Summing Up

There’s not much to say.  The last issue finally achieved consistent readability, a first for the Sol Cohen regime.  Now, back into the murk and muck.




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Serial

[July 20, 1966] An Endless Summer (August 1966 Fantasy and Science Fiction)

8 Comments


by Gideon Marcus

Surf's up!

My daughter and I are dyed-in-the-wool beach lovers.  We live just 10 miles from the shore, and now that Highway 78 is a real two-lane throughway, it's a snap to head down to Carlsbad for a jump in the waves.  I'm not a real surfer, mind you.  Water terrifies me.  But every year, I muster enough courage to try body surfing and belly boarding, and after the first wipe-out or two, it's "Cowabunga!" and fun for the rest of the afternoon.

We came back from our latest coastal excursion to pick up a viewing of The Endless Summer, a documentary of two Malibutians as they traveled around the world in pursuit of the perfect wave (which they find in the most improbable of places!) It's a great film, and highly recommended.

Hang Ten

I was in for a pleasant surprise when I got home.  According to Mike Moorcock, summer is when sf mags publish their worst stuff since readership is at its lowest.  I wasn't looking forward to this month's issue of Fantasy and Science Fiction, but aside from one dud, it actually turned out to be quite a decent book.


by Gray Morrow

The Productions of Time (Part 1 of 2), by John Brunner

Murray, a sauced-up actor on the wagon, is hired for a most unorthodox production by a most unorthodox producer, name of Delgado.  Murray is sequestered in a country inn with a number of other talented but problematic performers.  One has a heroin addiction.  Two are homosexuals.  One has a pornography habit.  Moreover, all of them have their weaknesses tempted: our hero keeps finding booze in his room (he angrily calls for its removal), the addict discovers a two ounce flask of horse in his, the obscenity-junky is well-supplied in copies of Fanny Hill and the like, etc. 

Things get even weirder when Murray discovers that all of the beds in the inn are wired with tape recorders.  When confronted, a testy Delgado says they're for hypno-learning, but the recorders don't have speakers!  The televisions are also strangely equipped with extra electronics, and they are wired to a central control system in a locked room.

The producer's eccentricities and the cast's friction notwithstanding, the troupe manage to put together a pretty good impromptu show.  Whereupon Delgado denigrates Murray's perfect performance and demands the whole thing be scrapped.  Is it part of his technique?  Or is the play never meant to be completed, part of a larger experiment.

This story feels very Leiberian, perhaps because of the subject matter.  It was slow to engage, but by the end, I was sorely disappointed that I'd have to wait a month to read the resolution.

Four stars thus far.


by Gahan Wilson

Matog, by Joan Patricia Basch

A contemporary of Paracelsus is retained by a local Baron to summon a demon.  He succeeds but is unaware of the deed as the fiend appears behind him.  For the duration of the creature's captivity on our plane, he is kept company by the summoner's charming young daughter, who has fallen for the Baron's son.

What ensues is an all's-well-that-ends-well tale involving a much-put-upon demon, whose reputation for evil and mischief is largely human ascribed (though not entirely), a thwarted romance, and a surprisingly effective set of veterinary medicines.

Fun fluff in a pleasantly archaic style.  Three stars.


by Ed Emshwiller

The Seven Wonders of the Universe, by Mose Mallette

Humans pierce the boundary between universes and find themselves in need of a travel brochure to encourage tourism.  This is that brochure.

One of the dumbest non-fact articles I've yet read and too obsessed with sex.  One star.

For the Love of Barbara Allen, by Robert E. Howard

This hitherto unpublished story is perhaps the last composed by the Conan creator before he killed himself.  It involves time travel, the Civil War, and enduring love.  Pleasant enough, though more interesting for the circumstances around its creation than its content.

Three stars.

Meteroid Collision, by Theodore L. Thomas

Thomas suggests in this science fact vignette that micrometeoroids be used to power spacecraft.  They'd hit a piezoelectric hull that would harness their intense energies.

Cute, but 1) I suspect the efficiency would be very low, and 2) there just aren't that many micrometeoroids.  Solar cells are cheaper, lighter, and work all the time.

Think harder, Ted.  Two stars.

Letter to a Tyrant King, by Bill Butler

Cute doggerel composed at the end of the Cretaceous, one dinosaur to another.  Three stars.

A Matter of Organization, by Frank Bequaert

A cog in the corporate machine ends up in a Hell that is all too familiar.  Can his cunning and bureaucratic prowess keep him from eternal torment?

A nice twist on the classic formula.  Three stars.

Near Thing, by Robin Scott

Expansionist aliens call off an impending invasion of Earth after encountering smog.

Silly, overdone, and eminently forgettable.  Two stars.

BB or Not BB, That Is the Question, by Isaac Asimov

I've been waiting for a good piece comparing the Steady State and Big Bang theories of cosmology, and The Good Doctor has delivered.  One of the best articles of the year from any source.

Five stars.

Come Lady Death, by Peter S. Beagle

Bookending this issue with quality is the first story I've read by Mr. Beagle (apparently a reprint from 1963).  A wizened socialite decides her swansong party shall include an invitation to Death.  The encounter is unusual in many ways.

I shan't spoil the plot as this lovely piece is worth reading.  Suffice it to say that the author has a light, compelling style, and I look forward to more fantastic works by him.

Four stars.

Back to Shore

That was pleasant.  Sure, there was a lot of mediocrity 'round the middle, but the take-off and landing were quite nice.  And there's every indication that next month's reading will be excellent: it will feature the second half of the Brunner novel and a new The People story by Zenna Henderson!

Here's to a nice long summer.




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Magazine, Science Fiction/Fantasy

[July 12, 1966] Cool It! (August 1966 Worlds of Tomorrow)

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by Victoria Silverwolf

The Long, Hot Summer

There has been intense heat in many major cities in the eastern United States this month, particularly over the Independence Day weekend. On Sunday, July 3, New York City reached an all-time high for that date with a temperature of 107 degrees. Newark wasn't far behind, at 105 degrees, and Philadelphia was close, with 104.


And Long Island, too.

Cold, Cold Heart

As if editor Frederik Pohl wanted to help us forget about the blistering heat wave, the latest issue of Worlds of Tomorrow is centered around a topic that is literally chilling.


Cover art by Paul E. Wenzel.

Before we step into the freezer, however, let's take a look at the lead story, mistakenly called a Complete Short Novel on the title page, although even the magazine's table of contents admits that it's just a novelette.

Heavenly Host, by Emil Petaja


Illustrations by Jack Gaughan.

Our hero's name is Kirk. If what I read in the trade papers is correct, that is also the name of the main character in the upcoming science fiction television series Star Trek. I assume that's just a coincidence. I guess Kirk is a good, manly name.

Anyway, this Kirk serves aboard a spaceship. He's a bit of a rebel, and winds up punching the tyrannical captain of the vessel. He's thrown into the brig, but manages to escape in a sort of lifeboat. (The implication is that the captain and the ship's cook kind of encouraged him to get away.)

This seems to be a case of jumping out of the frying pan and landing in the fire. (Pardon the corny metaphor. The heat must be getting to me.) Kirk winds up on a planet that is covered with a tangle of stinky vines. He manages to survive by eating the smelly plant and drinking rainwater, but life is hardly pleasant. There are holes here and there in the vines, so Kirk goes down to take a look around.


Exploring the world below.

After narrowly escaping being devoured by a giant worm, Kirk discovers that there's a wondrous Utopia under the odoriferous flora. He meets a beautiful woman, dancing gracefully, who quickly starts smooching on him and takes him on a boat ride.


A self-propelled gondola is the best way to travel in style.

At this point, the reader figures that the woman is just a figment of Kirk's imagination. Her name is Sombra, Spanish for shadow, which seems at first to be another hint that she's a phantom. Besides that, we already know that Kirk has imaginary conversations with his wise Mexican grandfather. However, she and the lovely community wherein she dwells turn out to be quite real.


Is this the Emerald City of Oz?

It seems that a bunch of colonists landed on the planet long ago, and managed to create a society without want, the population devoting all its time to artistic endeavors. This seemingly impossible task, they say, was done with the help of a benign deity called Hur. Kirk and Sombra are in love, of course, and he's eager to marry her, but things change when he gets his first look at the god responsible for this paradise.


Kirk meets Hur.

This is a strange story. It starts off as a tale of survival, becomes something of a wish-fulfillment fantasy, adds a touch of horror, and ends in an ambiguous fashion. I wouldn't call it boring, but I never believed anything that was happening. (One major quibble occurs to me: the people in the utopian city claim that they depend on folks like Kirk showing up to avoid inbreeding. Am I supposed to believe that people randomly land on this seemingly worthless planet frequently?)

Two stars.

Immortality Through Freezing, by Long John Nebel, et al.

This is actually an abridged transcript of a panel discussion broadcast on a New York City radio station. The topic is the possibility of freezing people at the moment of death and reviving them in the future, when medical technology will be able to cure their ailments and bring them back to life.

Besides the host, radio personality Long John Nebel, the group included Frederik Pohl, editor of this very magazine; R. C. W. Ettinger, who wrote a book on the subject, an excerpt from which appeared in the second issue of Worlds of Tomorrow; Joseph Lo Presti, an ophthalmologist; Shirley Herz, a public relations consultant; and the famous pianist/comedian Victor Borge.

That's an oddly mixed group of folks, and I wonder if they just happened to grab whoever was hanging around the radio station at the time. In any case, the guests discuss the definition of death and whether extreme cold could keep people in a state of suspended animation. This is nothing new to science fiction fans, and it pretty much just rehashes the previous article I mentioned. At least the subject matter might help you feel a little cooler and beat the heat.

Two stars.

Deliver the Man!, by Ray E. Banks


Illustrations by Norman Nodel

A starship is on its way to a conference of various alien civilizations. It seems that Earth is considered as something of a backwater, worthy only of being conquered. The ambassador aboard the vessel must reach the meeting on time and manage to convince the extraterrestrials otherwise.

Complicating matters is the fact that Martian colonists, now the enemies of Earth, attack the ship while it's on its way. A space battle follows.


A female warrior in a dogfight in space.

Our hero comes to the rescue of an inexperienced pilot, saving her bacon when she faces two opponents at once. She is hurt but survives the skirmish, only to face further challenges aboard the vessel.


Injured in battle.

There's a planet that insists the ship wait around while they celebrate an anniversary, so that the ambassador will be much too late to save Earth from destruction. The captain stays behind, allowing the vessel to sneak away, although he knows this will mean his death when the deception is discovered. An unpleasant fellow takes command, leading to a love triangle that ends in tragedy.


A crime of passion.

As if that weren't enough trouble, there's the possibility that an alien spy, disguised as a human being, is aboard the ship, intending to sabotage the mission. More deaths follow.


Another murder aboard ship.

All seems hopeless by the end, until our hero steps up and does what has to be done. The conclusion involves the ship's navigator, an eccentric woman who also serves as the hero's love interest.


The enigmatic navigator.

There's certainly enough action going on to satisfy readers looking for slam-bang adventure. The hero has so many obstacles in his way that it almost becomes ludicrous. You also have to assume that starship officers are going to act in completely irrational ways out of sexual jealousy.

Although partly depicted as objects of lust, it was nice to see women aboard the ship in important positions. The navigator, in particular, is an interesting character, although you'll probably figure out what role she plays in the plot.

Two stars.

The Most Delicious Foe, by Lawrence S. Todd


Illustrations by the author.

Our hero runs a business that will perform just about any service for the right fee. (I was reminded of Robert A. Heinlein's 1941 story "–We Also Walk Dogs". Proofreader, please note that the dash and quotation marks are part of the story's title.)

His latest job is to stop a war between two alien species. Each one wants to eat the other. The reptilian aliens just think the centipede-like aliens are tasty, while the centipede-like aliens savor the experience of imagining the lives of the reptiles while devouring them.


Two reptilian aliens read the news. Yes, the text states that they wear tam-o'-shanters.

Our hero has to figure out a way to please the appetites of both species in order to prevent wholesale slaughter.


Who is having whom for dinner?

As you can tell, this is a silly story, apparently intended as a comedy, although nothing particularly funny happens. The author is much better known as a cartoonist and illustrator, and he might want to stick to that line of work in the future.

Two stars.

Tom Swift and the Syndicate, by Sam Moskowitz

The indefatigable historian of all things related to science fiction delves into the subject of children's adventure books of the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries. As the title suggests, the main focus is on the countless stories of Tom Swift and his amazing inventions. However, the article also includes many other endless series, such as Nancy Drew and the Hardy Boys. The bulk of these were plotted by a single man and actually written by a bunch of authors under house names. The Tom Swift, Jr., series continues to this day.

As usual, the author possesses an absolutely astounding amount of information about the subject. Also as usual, the resulting essay is less than compelling.

Two stars.

Homogenized Planet, by Allen Danzif


Illustrations by Dan Adkins.

One of the members of an exploration team on Mars goes off for several days, much longer than he could possibly survive with his limited air supply. Incredibly, he comes back just fine. In fact, he can survive in the extremely thin Martian atmosphere without any problems.

The other folks sedate him and strap him down during the voyage back to Earth. I guess they don't want to take the chance that he's really a Martian shapeshifter or something. Despite their precautions, things start to go wrong. People change from one person into another, or disappear entirely.


An eerie transformation.

At this point, you might think of John W. Campbell, Jr.'s 1938 novella Who Goes There?, with its shapeshifting alien. (Not so much the 1951 movie The Thing from Another World, which eliminated the shapeshifting. On the other hand, I was reminded of the 1958 film It! The Terror from Beyond Space.)

However, things turn out quite differently than expected, and the mood changes drastically. When we finally find out what's really going on, the premise is of some interest, but it requires pages and pages of exposition. The story really grinds down to a halt during its last section.

Two stars.

Island of Light, by Lawrence A. Perkins


Illustrations by Arkin. I have not been able to discover the artist's last name. Could it possibly be Alan Arkin, the star of this year's hit comedy The Russians Are Coming, The Russians Are Coming? He's had a couple of stories published in Galaxy.

In the near future, a city in the northwestern part of the United States takes drastic measures against crime. There is only one way to get into the place, which has expanded so greatly that it takes up part of three states. The normal activities of everyone in the city are recorded, so that computers can predict their whereabouts at any particular time with reasonable accuracy. There are many other methods used to ensure that it is nearly impossible to get away with a crime.


Citizens of Utopia?

A detective from outside the city arrives to observe the local crimefighters. A woman is beaten and robbed, left alive but in a coma. The investigation demonstrates the city's unusual methods, and reveals something about the visiting detective.

The premise is an interesting and provocative one, raising many questions about the proper way to balance freedom and security. Frankly, this story came as something of a relief after all those outer space adventures. The biggest flaw is that it's full of long expository speeches, as the local detective explains things to his guest.

Three stars.

We're Havin' a Heat Wave

Well, that was a disappointing issue, not doing much to take my mind off the hot weather. Perhaps the best way to use it would be to flap the pages against your face to cool down. Either that, or read it while sitting in a room made nice and comfortable by modern technology.


You don't really need to wear a snowsuit while running an air conditioner.

Tune in to KGJ, our radio station, for the coolest and the hottest hits!




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