Tag Archives: Olivine Renegade

[December 31, 1969] …for spacious skies (January 1970 Analog)

[New to the Journey?  Read this for a brief introduction!]

photo of a man with glasses and curly, long, brown hair, and a beard and mustache
by Gideon Marcus

Pan Am makes the going great!

Thousands turned out in Everett, Washington, for the roll-out of the first jumbo jet ever built.  The "wide-bodied" Boeing 747 can carry a whopping 362 passengers; compare that to the 189 carried by the 707 that inaugurated the "Jet Age" a decade ago. Pan American World Airways (Pan Am) took delivery of the aircraft, which flew to Nassau, Bahamas, thenceforth to New York.

photo of an enormous jet, parked on the ground on a sunny day. There are also observing members of the public, of which there seem to be about 4. The top half of the jet is white with a horizontal turquoise stripe that extends all the way around. Above the stripe, there are the words PAN AM in large black letters. The bottom half of the plane is polished, reflective metal, and there is an open hatch on the left side, closest to the photographer. On the right side of the image, we can see the stairway allowing passengers to depart. On the left side of the image, there is a small barrier of folding wood signs between the photographer and the jet. The barrier surrounds a group of 3 trucks and 8 or so technicians, as well as the platform ladders that reach from the ground to the open hatch.

Originally scheduled for regular service on Dec. 15, things have been pushed back to January 18.  That's because 28 of the world's airlines have placed orders for 186 of these monsters, including American Airlines, which has ordered 16.  Since their shipment won't arrive until June, and as air travel is strictly regulated in this country by the Civil Aeronautics Board (CAB), which ensures fairness of rates, routes, and other aspects of competition, the CAB ordered a delay until Pan Am leases American one of its fleet.

As impressive as the 747 is, it constitutes something of a bridge, aeronautically speaking.  Very soon, we will have supersonic transports plying the airlanes.  Eventually, we may even have hypersonic derivatives of the reusable "space shuttle", currently under development at NASA.  The jumbo jet will allow for economical, subsonic flights until passenger travel goes faster than sound, at which point, the 747 will make an excellent freighter. 

These are exciting times for the skies!  And with that, let's see if we've also got exciting times in space…

John Campbell makes the going… hard

A beautiful color photo of the Saturn V launch, a syringe piercing the grey heavens, and a beam of fire below. The great orange cloud created by takeoff forms sharp relief against the Florida trees.

What Supports Apollo?, by Ben Bova and J. Russell Seitz

Apropos of the aeronautically pioneering theme, the first piece in this issue is a science article on what supports the Apollo, literally: the enormous Vehicle Assembly Building, where the three stages of the Saturn V are put together; the crawler that the rocket rides to the launch pad, and the 30-story gantry at the launch pad.

photo of a gantry tower constructed of metal struts. In the background, there is the Saturn V, attached to a similar structure. They are both on large platforms that seem to float above the ground.
The mobile launcher (left) and the Saturn on the crawler (right)

It's a lot of numbers told in a wide-eyed fashion, but I enjoyed it.  The pictures are nice, too.

Four stars.

The Wild Blue Yonder, by Robert Chilson

Illustrated by Vincent DiFate. Two-panel illustration, light dusty black linework on white background. On the right panel there is a White man in a white suit with a dark tie, facing the viewer. He looks like a pimply Ronald Reagan, and is awkwardly holding a fantastical gun as though it is a cigarette holder. On the left panel, there is a White man in a black suit, sitting at a computer console, facing away from the viewer. In the background of these images is a dusty cloudform meant to represent an atomic blast, but looks more like a hurricane.
by Vincent diFate(right)

Engineer Ted Halsman had bought an old mine in rural Ohio and stuffed it with all kinds of advanced equipment.  When the mine explodes with the force of an atomic blast, Halsman goes on the run, asserting that his discovery will warp the future of humanity if it escapes his clutches.

Told in documentary fashion, this story goes on waaaaay too long.  Along the way, much speculation is made about the nature of the blast, and how it might require rewriting the laws of physics.  That the speculations are patently absurd does a bit to foreshadow the joke ending.  On the other hand, that ending is also rather implausible.

Beyond that, we're meant to sympathize with Halsman, who idly dreams of returning to civilization, decades after successfully escaping from it.  That he murdered half a dozen people in cold blood while fleeing is glossed over.

Two stars.

The Proper Gander, by A. Bertram Chandler

Illustration by Leo Summers, black linework on white background. A White man in Western wear has pulled his pickup truck to the side of a road in the Southwestern United States, and has ended up stuck in a gulch. He has stepped out to look at the Black woman in Star Trek robes who has stepped out of a flying saucer-type spaceship. There is a cactus between them.
by Leo Summers

A thoroughly humanoid flying-saucer pilot is reprimanded for being too showy about his jaunts to Earth.  His bosses decide the best defense against discovery is hiding in plain sight: a saucer is ordered to land in front of a commuter, and out strolls a vivacious, thoroughly humanoid "Officer's Comfort Second Class" who claims she is from Venus.  Since modern humans know Venus is uninhabitable, the saucer people figure that future sightings will be written off as gags or delusions.

This story is both stupid and sexist, both in spades.  One star.

Curfew, by Bruce Daniels

A young Martian by the name of Matheson comes to Earth for the reading of his uncle's will.  Said uncle was an inventor and a corporate spy, and his legacy includes some rather valuable patents that could be explosive in the wrong hands.  Others are already after the secret, and in addition to dodging them, Matheson must meet with a shady unknown at night, outside the safety of his hotel.

Therein lines the inspiration for the story's title: as a solution to the crime problem, there is a night-long curfew enforced by mechanical beasts and aircraft.  Can Matheson brave the rigors of his homeworld long enough to claim his prize?

This piece is somewhat juvenile in tone, but not bad.  Three stars.

The Pyrophilic Saurian, by Howard L. Myers

Illustration by Leo Summers. Black lines on white background depict an enormous sauropod, either formed out of vegetation or with vegetation growing all over its body. In the background, there is a second sauropod, rubbing against a rocket ship. A palm frond the size of the rocket ship has fallen against its side. In the foreground, there is the legend
by Leo Summers

This story appears to take place in the same universe as "His Master's Vice", because that's the other place we've seen Prox(y)Ad(miral)s.  In this tale, we've got a prison escapee named Olivine who has made a break with four other convicts.  He heads out to a planet that he knows (as a former ProxAd) has been restricted and bears a resource of great value.  Of course, the suspicious ease of Olivine's escape suggests that the authorities have a reason for letting him and his band scout out this world for them…

It's cute, in a Chris Anvil sort of way, though the space patrol must have been close to prescient to anticipate all of the twists and turns the story takes.  Three stars, barely.

In Our Hands, the Stars (Part 2 of 3), by Harry Harrison

Illustration by Kelly Freas. Two-panel drawing. Left panel is a paunchy person in a too-tight black wetsuit-spacesuit, firing a ray gun at unseen pursuers. Right panel is another person wearing a wetsuit-spacesuit, carrying something over their shoulder that could be a grey sack, a person, or a large dead animal. The right panel wetsuit-spacesuit person appears to have a very large set of buttocks. The figures are in pools of light, next to something that looks like a jet. In the background there is a city at night, but it is drawn so dark and smudgy that it is impossible to make out much detail
by Kelly Freas

And now, Part 2 of the serial started last month, in which an Israeli scientists flees to Denmark to develop anti-gravity.

In this installment, Denmark builds a proper anti-grav spaceship, adapted from a giant hovercraft.  We learn that its pilot likes to sleep around, and his wife is being leaned on by the CIA to steal secrets from the project.  In all of this issue's 50 pages, the only scene that really matters is when the discoverer of the effect, Leif Holm, newly minted Minister for Space, gives a speech from the Moon.  The rest is superfluous building scenes or bits with the pilot's wife, who exists solely to be weak, vulnerable, and jealous, so she can be traitorous.

"Did you read about our Mars visit?" is a line that is actually in the book, and I thought at that point, "No!  But I'd have liked to!"

Also, can a diesel tractor really work on the Moon even with oxygen cylinders?  And are the Danestronauts doing anything to sterilize their equipment, or are they just blithely contaminating the Moon?

I'm really not enjoying this one very much.  Harrison is sleepwalking.  Two stars.

The Reference Library: To Buy a Book (Analog, January 1970), by P. Schuyler Miller

Miller prefaces his book column with a fascinating piece on how books are distributed.  In short, they aren't…not for very long, anyway.  The titles sit on shelves for a vanishingly brief time, and unless the booksellers know they can sell a bunch, chances are they won't bother ordering any.  The profit margin's just not there.  This is a phenomenon I know very well as an author, and I don't imagine the paradigm will change for the next half century or so (until we all switch over to digital books, computer-delivered, as Mack Reynolds predicts).

There's also a nice plug for Bjo Trimble's Star Trek Concordance, a comprehensive encyclopedia of all topics from the show.  Then Miller gushes over a trio of reprint Judith Merril novellas, Daughters of Earth, the recently novelized Leiber serial, A Specter is Haunting Texas, and the very recently novelized Silverberg serial, Up the Line.  His praise is slightly muted for Alexander Key's juvenile, The Golden Enemy.

Having reservations

photo of a young brunette woman, sitting at a computer and wearing a headset. She is wearing a short-sleeved ribbed sweater, and is smiling over her shoulder at the camera.
Thérèse Burke checks reservations for the Irish airline, Air Lingus.

Well.

It is appropriate that, on the eve of the dawn of a new era of air travel, Analog is continuing a serial about a new era of space travel.  But despite that subject matter, this issue is straight out of Dullsville, continuing a flight into mediocrity that has been going on for many years now.

With a score of 2.5, this month's issue is only beaten to the bottom by the perennial stinker, Amazing (2.4).  It is roughly tied with New Worlds (2.5), and exceed by IF (2.7), Vision of Tomorrow (3.2), and Fantasy and Science Fiction (3.5).

Aside from that superlative last magazine, it's been something of a drab month: you could take all the 4-5 star stuff and you'd have less than two full magazine's worth.  And women wrote just 4% of the pieces.

Is this any way to run a genre?



[New to the Journey?  Read this for a brief introduction!]


Follow on BlueSky

[April 30, 1968] (Partial) success stories (May 1968 Analog)


by Gideon Marcus

Chertona Dyuzhina (Baker's Dozen)

Luna 14 is the Soviet Union's latest space success story.  Launched April 7, it slipped into lunar orbit a couple of days later and began relaying data.  Per TASS, the spacecraft is still working fine, returning space weather reports and mapping the moon's hidden contours through the wobbling of its path due to lunar gravity.

No pictures have been returned, nor has there been any mention of an onboard camera.  However, since Luna 12 (launched October '66) did have one, it is generally believed that Luna 14 has one too–and it broke.  We'll probably never know.

Campbell's Seven

The latest issue of Analog is also not an unmixed bag.  However, it's still the best issue of the mag by a long shot since January.  That's something worth celebrating!


by Chesley Bonestell

Satan's World (Part 1 of 4), by Poul Anderson

David Falkayn is back!  The fair-haired protoge of Polesotechnic League magnate Nicholas van Rijn has been sent to Earth to find untold fortune.  More specifically, to inquire at Serendipity Inc., storehouse of all the universe's lore, for the quickest route between Point A (Falkayn) and Point B (wealth).  It's amazing what can be done with computers in the Mumblethieth Century!


by Kelly Freas

To do so, he puts himself at the mercy of the board of Serendipity, becoming a guest on their lunar estate.  His crewmates, Adzel the monastic saurian who talks like Beast from The X-Men, and Chee, who talks like Nick Fury from Sgt. Fury, stay behind…and worry.

With good reason, for Falkayn has been shanghaied, purportedly in love with one of the Serendipity board, but probably brainwashed or something.  Van Rijn gives Adzel and Chee the green light to investigate.

Falkayn stories are always somewhere in the lower middle for Anderson–serviceable but unexciting.  Once again, the author utilizes some cheap tricks to move things along, even calling them out in text in an attempt to excuse them (the long explanation of Serendipity's modus operandi; the sudden coincidence of a call by a critical character, etc.) None of the characters is particularly interesting, perhaps because of the extremely broad brush with which they're described, particularly Van Rijn.

Nevertheless, mediocre is pretty good for a Falkayn story, and I'm kind of interested.  Plus, Anderson's astronomy is always pretty good.

Three stars so far.

Exile to Hell, by Isaac Asimov


by Kelly Freas

This story is remarkable for being the first time Isaac has appeared in Analog (the magazine was Astounding when wrote for Campbell).  It is otherwise unremarkable–this vignette is written in '40s style, with a hoary "twist" ending, which was already incorporated as one of many elements in The Moon is a Harsh Mistress.

Two stars.

Conquest by Default, by Vernor Vinge


by Kelly Freas

This one surprised me: alien anarchists, who by their law are forbidden to have polities larger than 10,000 people, take over a recovering post-nuclear Earth.  The Terrans are worried that they will suffer a fate similar to that of the Cherokees–annihilation, assimilation, relocation, or a combination of all three. 

Told from the point of view of one the conquerers, it very much seems like this will be one of those fatuous Campbellian tales where it turns out that free enterprise and libertarianism are the superior forces, and that the solution to "the aboriginal problem" has a neat and obvious solution.

But the story has a sting in its tail.

I had not expected to find an anti-capitalist, anti-libertarian screed in the pages of Analog, much less an acknowledgement of the American genocide…yet there it is!  And because the viewpoint character is an alien (and a comparatively sympathetic one, at that), the full impact of the story is saved for the end.

Four stars.

His Master's Vice, by Verge Foray


by Kelly Freas

Prox(y)ad(miral) Elmo Ixton lands his patrol ship, the sentient craft, Rollo, on the planet of Roseate on the trail of a rebel proxad who has gone to ground and recruited a network of criminal accomplices.  The agoraphobic and irritable Ixton ingratiates himself with very few people, but he does get his man…in time for the tables to be turned when the renegade takes over his ship.

Luckily, Rollo is not about to become an unwitting accomplice.

Not bad.  I didn't much like the Gestapo methods with which the "good guys" extracted the truth from suspects, though.

Three stars.

Fear Hound, by Katherine MacLean


by Kelly Freas

In late 20th Century New York, the city seethes with a despair so palpable, it almost seems the echoes of one person's broadcast pain.  Indeed, that is exactly what it is.  And the Rescue Squad, a corps of intellectual empaths, are on the case to find the source before s/he perishes in anguish, and in the process, telepathically pushes hundreds, maybe thousands more, to the brink of insanity or even death.

There's a lot of neat stuff in this one.  Obviously, you have to buy telepathy as plausible (something Campbell obviously does).  Given that, the idea of a group of people tracking down injured folk by their subtle telepathic emanations, and the unconscious mass effects these have on others, is pretty innovative. MacLean writes in the deft, immediate style that has made her one of SF's leading lights for two decades; the dreamy, choppy execution fits the circumstances of the story.

On the other hand, the bits about smart people essentially providing the brain for dozens of sub-average IQ types through unconscious telepathic links was something I found distasteful. There are also a few, lengthy explainy bits that could have been better worked in, I think.

A high three stars.

Project Island Bounce, by Lawrence A. Perkins


by Kelly Freas

The alien Ysterii arrive on an Earth not unlike that depicted in Conquest by Default.  Here, the crisis is that the blobby amphibians prefer the archipelagos of Asianesia to the dry expanses of Eurica.  This is causing a trade imbalance that will ultimately not only destabilize the world, but potentially lead to a cut-off of peaceful relations with the galaxy altogether.

Perkins doesn't tell the story very well, especially compared to Vinge's writing, and the "solution" is dumb. Two stars.

Skysign, by James Blish


by Leo Summers

Carl Wade, a Berkeley radical type finds himself trapped on an alien vessel floating above San Francisco.  As memory returns to his headachey brain, he recalls the he was the one "lay volunteer" among dozens of men and women chosen as ambassadors for their various technical expertise.

Now, Carl and a hundred-odd humans are prisoners in the gilded cage of the ship, offered all manner of food and a fair bit of recreation.  But they are nevertheless under the control of the alien crew, humanoids in skintight suits, with the ability to teleport and put the human captives to sleep at any time.

That is, until Carl, with the help of the Jeanette Hilbert, a brilliant meteorologist, figure out how to wrest control of the whole system from the aliens.  That's only half the story, since Carl and Jeanette have differing ideas on what to do with absolute power.

I liked this story, and Blish does a good job of putting us in the boots of a not-entirely savory character.  I find it particularly interesting that our radical protagonist is something of a jerk; I originally thought that this might be a subtle, anti-leftist dig, but Blish is an outspoken peacenik, so I think he just wanted to create a nuanced character.

Four stars.

Batting Average

Analog thus ends up at a reasonable 3.1 stars–not stellar, but certainly worth the 60 cents you pay for it (less if you have the subscription, of course).  That puts it at the bottom of the new mags (vs. IF and Fantasy and Science Fiction (3.5), but better than the reprints (Fantastic (2.7) and Amazing (2.0)).  The magazine average for the month was 3.1.

All told, if you took the four and five star stories of this month and squished them into one mag…well, you'd need one and a half. That amounts to about 40% of all new fiction this month. Again, not bad.

The sad news is only one story this month was woman-penned, making up for 4.3% of the newly published works.  And that one was MacLean's, meaning Analog wins this month's pink ribbon in a mass forfeit.

Well, I suppose you take your victories where you find them.  At least we ended up on the positive side of the ledger this month…






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