Tag Archives: science fiction

[October 18, 1965] Turn, Turn, Turn (November 1965 Fantasy & Science Fiction)


by Gideon Marcus

The Winds of Change

History is divided into eras: The Stone Age, The Middle Ages, The Renaissance.  There are Golden Ages and Dark Ages.  The Jazz Age.  The Gilded Age.  One is never quite sure of a period's exact delineations, the precise moments of its beginning or end, until the next one is well on its way.  It is possible to tell when one is in an age, however, and also to feel keenly the wistful uncertain sense one gets in the doldrums between epochs.  Who can't have felt that way in the year succeeding President Kennedy's assassination, when his civil rights program, American involvement in Indochina, even the character of government in general hung in the balance.  And who can doubt that, for better or worse, the Johnson era has clearly begun?

I've lived through two sea changes in music.  The first was in 1954, when the overripe swing and schmaltz on the radio was overrun with a wave of rock and roll, particularly if you tuned into the Black stations (luckily, a radio tuner cannot easily be segregated).  By 1963, the winds of change had become muddled.  With folk, pop, motown, surf, and country vying for our eardrums, it was quite impossible to know then where the next two years would take us.  Then the Beatles spearheaded the biggest British invasion since 1812, and a new age was upon us.

Science fiction has its ages, too.  When I got into SF in a big way, the genre was clearly plumb in the middle of one.  It was 1954, four years after Galaxy's editor, Horace Gold, had thrown the gauntlet down at the feet of puerile pulp SF, five years after the new Fantasy and Science Fiction established a literary benchmark for the genre that has yet to be exceeded.  Science fiction primarily came in digest sized magazines, and the market was aflood with them.  Quality ranged from the penny-a-word mags which were little above the pulps that preceded them to stellar new fiction that burst beyond our solar system and ranged deep into our pysches.

As the 60s dawned, the genre had become anemic.  Almost all of the monthly digests had gone out of print.  The old stalwart, Astounding, had changed its name to Analog, but is fiction remained stolidly fixed in an older mode.  Gold retired from Galaxy and Fred Pohl struggled to keep it and its sister mags fresh as its reliable stable of authors left for greener (as in the color of money) pastures.  F&SF's helm passed on to Avram Davidson, whose whimsical style did the magazine few favors.

But the genre seems to have found its feet and is stomping off in a new direction.  Propelled by a "New Wave," again largely based in Britain, the science fiction I've been reading these days no longer feels like retreads of familiar stories.  They have the stamp of a modern era, an indisputable sense of 1960s.  And no single issue of a single magazine has represented this renaissance in SF better than the latest issue of Fantasy and Science Fiction.

A Fresh Breeze


by Gray Morrow (illustrating the many perils of … And Call Me Conrad (Part 2 of 2)

Come to Venus Melancholy, by Thomas M. Disch

Disch is one of the flagbearers of the new era.  In just three years, this new author has produced more than 20 stories, some of them quite brilliant.  In this one (set on an obviously pre-Mariner Venus), a lonely cyborg staffer of a trading post literally holds you captive while she tells the sad story of how she lost her love.

By turns horrifying and heartbreaking, it's a moving piece.  Four stars.

The Peacock King, by Larry McCombs and Ted White

Less effective though more experimental is this piece on the first successful hyperdrive jaunt.  After four failures, it is determined that the transition to hyperspace bears similarities to drug-induced schizophrenia.  One couple, so in love as to practically share a consciousness, is fed a regimen of psychoactives to prepare them for the trip.

Somewhat roughly written, and perhaps too short, it is nevertheless a fascinatingly "now" story delving into new territory.

Three stars.

Insect Attractant, by Theodore L. Thomas

This usually disappointing column of sf-story ideas masquerading as short science articles starts promisingly, discussing how insect pests could be eradicated through synthesis of female sex pheromones, which could then be sprayed to disrupt their breeding cycles.  A fine alternative to DDT.

But then he goes on to suggest that human females have similar pheromones, and that distillation and application of same could be used by marriage counselors, as if love is purely a matter of chemical compatibility. Perhaps the author has never been in love, let alone gotten married.  Of course, Mr. Thomas may have meant the piece in jest, though I also resented its casually sexist overtones.  Either way, it's not worth the page it occupies.

Two stars — and let's please 86 this column, Mr. Ferman?

… And Call Me Conrad (Part 2 of 2), by Roger Zelazny

When last we left Konstantin Karaghiosis, Minister for Cultural Sites on an atomics-devastated Earth, he was giving a tour of Greece to a blue-skinned Vegan, name of Cort Vishtigo, and his human entourage.  Ostensibly, the alien was on Earth to write a travelogue.  His true purpose is unknown, but the members of the Radpol movement believe Vishtigo's trip is a real estate survey, prelude to the Vegans buying up the planet to plunder.  An assassination attempt is in the offing, and Karaghiosis (virtually immortal and currently going by the name of Conrad) believes that the alien's bodyguard, Hassan, is the likely killer. 

That's the context, but the tale Zelazny weaves reads like a modern interpretation of mythology, with Conrad's party encountering a host of radiation mutated beasts, humans, and everything in-between.  Conrad is a tale of survival, of derring do, of proving worth.  It's also a pretty good mystery with a satisfying, if a touch too pat, ending.

At first, I was leery of Zelazny's style, a first person macho that threatens to become precious.  But there's enough self-deprecatory humor to make it work, and I found the pages flying.  There's enough action to keep it moving, enough depth to keep you thinking.

Four stars for this segment, and the novel as a whole is elevated to this rank as well.

El Numero Uno, by Sasha Gilien

It used to be that Death attended to matters personally.  Now, the business has boomed, and he requires field agents armed with legal contracts instead of scythes.  This particular case involves a harried operative on the sports beat and a particularly recalcitrant matador scheduled for expiration.

Good stuff in the style of Ron Goulart.  Four stars.

Squ-u-u-ush!, by Isaac Asimov

Having previously discussed the shortest measure of time, the largest measures of dimension, the hottest heat, and the coldest cold, the Good Doctor now explores the densest densities, starting with ordinary matter and proceeding the greatest crushes in the universe: the interior of giant stars.

Cutting edge stuff, and it's the first time I learned of neutronium, a state of matter even more compressed than that found inside a white dwarf.

Four stars.

A Few Kindred Spirits, by John Christopher

Last up, the much heralded author of No Blade of Grass offers up a tale combining a queer (in both senses of the word) group of dogs, the concept of reincarnation, and the pursuit of literary laurels.  A character study cum literal shaggy dog story, it's perhaps the most conventional piece of the issue — save for the rather daring (and refreshingly uncondemned) discussion of alternate sexual preferences.

Four stars.

The Sound of Shoes Dropping

It is clear that, after a long many-tacked jaunt in trackless seas, The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction has set a bold new course.  I have high hopes and more than a little suspicion that this New Wave era has many more exciting years left to it.

After quite a few lean years, I'm finally getting my dessert again!






[October 10, 1965] Doctor Where? (Doctor Who: Mission To The Unknown)


By Jessica Holmes

Probably weren’t expecting me to be back so soon, eh? We’ve got a very, very unusual story this week, courtesy of Terry Nation. Why is it so unusual? Let’s find out.

MISSION TO THE UNKNOWN

We see the man from last week’s preview waking up in the middle of the forest, and saying he must kill. Kill who? Well, that doesn’t really matter. The killing is the important part. Don’t get too attached to him.

Nearby two men, Cory and Lowery, are trying to repair their spaceship. They are apparently with the UN Deep Space Force. I don’t know what that is but it certainly sounds cool. They’re starting to wonder where Garvey, the other bloke who woke up with a craving for murder, has vanished to. He shows up before long, and corners Lowery alone outside the ship. However, before he can kill him, Cory pops out and shoots him dead.

Rather than reacting with gratitude, Lowery is very upset with Cory for shooting his friend without giving him a chance. Cory makes a reasoned and sensitive response to his protest, introducing Lowery’s cheek to the palm of his hand.

He then shows Lowery the thorn behind Garvey’s ear. It’s a Varga thorn, he says, and this is what drove him into a murderous state.

The pair go inside the ship, and outside, Garvey’s hand starts to move, the flesh beginning to mutate into something else…

Inside the ship, Cory fills Lowery in on information he probably ought to have been given in the first place, but then again, if he already knew it then there wouldn’t be an opportunity to do an exposition dump. Cory is an agent with the Space Security Service: licence to kill, naturally. About a thousand years have passed since the last Dalek invasion of Earth, but they’ve been rebuilding their power in the meantime, and just last week a Dalek ship was spotted in local space.

As Cory explains all this, a now-transformed Garvey rises from the dead. He is more plant than human now.

Cory goes on to explain that he’s investigating this planet because, as the most hostile planet in known space, it could be a hidden base for the Daleks. Bringing up the thorn again, he tells Lowery that it’s a Varga thorn, and the Varga plant only grows naturally on the Dalek homeworld of Skaro. Logically, if there are Varga here, the Daleks must be too. Well, thinking about it, they could have been here, done some gardening, and then left, but he doesn't seem to consider that.

Sure enough, in the next scene we see a few Daleks. They’re expecting to receive emissaries from seven planets soon. Before they can hold their meeting, however, they’ll be needing to do something about the alien spaceship they’ve found. They’re going to destroy it, and any occupants. Big shocker, there.

The human astronauts are in big trouble as they set up their rescue beacon outside the ship. They’re surrounded by Varga, and the Daleks are closing in on their position.

Spotting a huge rocket ship flying overhead, Cory surmises that something very big is going on here, and if the Daleks are involved then the whole galaxy is in danger. They need to record a message and send the rescue beacon as soon as possible.

Before they can send it however, they hear the approaching Daleks, and grabbing the rocket they head for the cover of the jungle.

The Daleks find the human ship and set out to search for the crew, but not before blowing their vessel to smithereens.

As the pair move through the jungle, disaster strikes when Lowery brushes against a Varga, and it pricks his hand. Frightened, he conceals it from the other man. Have you watched no horror flicks ever, man? Everyone knows that nothing good ever comes of concealing the fact that you're about to turn into a bug-eyed monster/zombie/shrubbery with legs.

Meanwhile, an assortment of strange alien envoys are meeting with the Daleks. However, the meeting can’t begin as one of the aliens knows of a hostile influence on the planet, but the Daleks assure them that the humans are in the process of being hunted down and destroyed.

The assembled aliens agree to an alliance with the Daleks in a historic first which is very bad news for the rest of the galaxy. They represent the greatest invasion force ever assembled, and where are they planning to begin? Earth, of course.

It’s a very nice planet but why are aliens always so obsessed with it?

It’s interesting to me at any rate to see Daleks making alliances with other powers in space. They always seemed like loners to me, but I suppose pragmatism wins out in the end. I'll be curious to see how this all turns out. I wouldn't be surprised if the Daleks turn on their allies as soon as they outlive their usefulness.

Things go from bad to worse for the humans, as Lowery is quickly succumbing to the Varga’s poison. Cory returns from scouting to report having found a Dalek city hidden in the jungle, and he heard an announcement that the invasion of the galaxy is about to begin.

However, the Varga venom has consumed Lowery, leaving Cory with no choice but to shoot him dead as he reaches for his gun. Alone and with the Daleks fast catching up to him, he hurriedly records a message to warn the rest of the galaxy.

And then the worst-case scenario happens.

As he tries to attach the message to the beacon, the Daleks surround him. With a cry of ‘Exterminate!’ they blast him with everything they’ve got. Moments later, Cory lies dead, and his message will never be sent.

The galaxy won't know what hit it.

Final Thoughts

No, really. That’s it. That’s the whole story. This is the first Doctor Who story to be a single episode long. Not only that, it’s the first one in which neither the Doctor nor his companions make an appearance. I suppose he got his day off after all!

And to top it all off, this is the only episode so far in which the baddies win.

It is surprisingly dark. Doctor Who has never really shied away from character death, but it’s normally just the bad guys and one or two goodies at most that end up kicking the bucket. If this is setting the tone for the upcoming behemoth of a serial, which will also be by Terry Nation and featuring the Daleks, then we might have some grim television ahead of us.

Don’t get me wrong, though— I like it. It does admittedly feel more like a prequel to a bigger story than an actual standalone story of its own, but it’s tightly paced, they’ve managed to squeeze in a little characterisation which is pretty commendable given the very short runtime, and the Daleks are back to feeling like a real threat again, plus a tease of a number of other potentially interesting enemies.

It looks like our pal the Doctor is going to have his work cut out for him. We’ll have to wait and see how he gets on…

And for one final thing, I hear that this is Verity Lambert’s final episode as a producer on Doctor Who. I think we all owe her a big thank you for her role in bringing the show to life in the first place, and as a woman I thank and commend her for being the BBC’s first woman producer, paving the way for the many talented women who will follow in her footsteps. Thank you, Verity, and we all wish you the very best of luck for the future.

4 out of 5 stars




[October 4, 1965] Galaxy Bore (Doctor Who: Galaxy 4)


By Jessica Holmes

Hello, dear readers! Summer’s passed, there’s a cold snap in the air, and Doctor Who is back on our television sets, which means that I get to waffle on to you about it at great length. Did you miss me?

We’re kicking things off with a strange new world and a new writer. I don’t believe we’ve had William Emms pen an episode before, so shall we see how he got on?

FOUR HUNDRED DAWNS

The TARDIS materialises in a rather barren landscape, with a great big load of nothing as far as the eye can see. Well, as far as I can see, anyway, as my television set is malfunctioning. I managed to hear the audio just fine, but I did end up losing the picture quite often, so please do bear that in mind.

Aboard the TARDIS, Vicki’s giving Steven a haircut as the Doctor surveys the outside environment. He notices that the conditions are perfectly conducive to life, but there don’t seem to be any signs of it outside.

Not at first, anyway. Before long, a strange little thing scoots along. It looks a bit like a beehive on wheels, and it’s feeling its way around the TARDIS.

Leave it to Vicki to call it cute and nickname it a ‘Chumbley’.

It doesn’t stick around for long, enabling them to emerge from the TARDIS and spot the three suns in the sky. However, another arrives, this time toting what appears to be a gun. After witnessing it set a bush on fire with a single blast, the group allow the Chumbley to escort them off.

Two women watch as the Chumbley leads them away from the TARDIS. As it comes close to them, they throw a metal mesh over it, deactivating the device.

The explorers are glad of the rescue, and Steven in particular is pleased to see it comes in so fair a form. The women introduce themselves as Drahvins, sent by their leader to rescue the newcomers. They say that the Chumblies are under the control of the ‘Rills’, who sound jolly unpleasant. However, they don’t explain why their leader took an interest in them in the first place, and Vicki doesn’t trust that they have good intentions. Steven, however, is all too happy to trust a pretty face. For his part, the Doctor isn’t sure either way, and opts to be compliant, but cautious.

More Chumbleys arrive, and the group have to flee. The Drahvin women escort the travellers to their ship, a beat-up old rustbucket that isn’t flying anywhere any time soon.

I can’t help but roll my eyes as the men seem rather giggly as the women order them to be silent for the arrival of their leader, Maaga. Fellas, they might be women, pretty ones at that, but they have guns and look like they mean business.

Maaga arrives on the scene, and after debriefing her troops, informs the travellers that the Drahvins are at a state of war with the Rills, with total obliteration of the other side being the only possible outcome. They themselves may end up obliterated.

Why are they at war? The planet will explode in two weeks’ time according to the Rills, who have the only working spaceship.

Maaga doesn’t seem the type to try asking nicely.

As for why the planet’s about to explode, your guess is as good as mine. I’m no physicist, but I’d imagine the three suns exert enormous tidal forces on the planet, so perhaps it’s more accurate to say that it’s about to be torn apart.

The reason they’re on this doomed world in the first place is that their planet is overpopulated, and they were looking for suitable planets for colonisation. Steven asks if the population of Drahvin are all women, prompting another eye-roll from me. I can’t imagine he’d ask the same of an all-male crew, would he?

For the record, there are indeed men on Drahvin– just the few they need to breed the next generation. The rest are killed for being a waste of resources.

It’s an interesting society for sure, made even more so by the revelation that Maaga’s soldiers were grown in test tubes for the purpose of fighting and killing. She insists they aren’t real people, and they certainly act more like robots than sentient creatures, but that in my opinion could be more a matter of conditioning than anything else, which makes their poor treatment far more sinister.

Maaga finishes off the dump of exposition by telling the Doctor that the Drahvins and Rills shot one another down, the Rills having opened fire first, and then the Rills murdered one of her soldiers shortly after crash-landing.

A Chumbley approaches and attempts to send a message, but Maaga opens fire on it before it can, scaring it away.

It’s at this point the Doctor raises a pertinent question: why did the Rills tell the Drahvins that the planet was going to explode?

Maaga’s assumption is that they were trying to get the Drahvin to come aboard their ship so they can kill them.

Well, if that’s what she thinks, then who’s to say if the planet is actually in any danger at all?

Lucky for them that the Doctor is a scientist. He can find out one way or the other.

Vicki volunteers to stay behind while the men go back to the ship, ostensibly to make sure that the whole crew aren’t putting themselves in danger, but everyone including the audience knows that in actuality she’s a hostage.

The Doctor and Steven find a Chumbley trying to break into the TARDIS when they get back, but it gives up before long, and they get inside and the Doctor gets to work. He soon learns to his horror that the planet is indeed going to be destroyed– but the timing is way off! This planet doesn’t have fourteen dawns left… it has two.

Tomorrow is the last day this planet will ever see.

TRAP OF STEEL

Talking of things going BOOM, the fellas had better watch out for the Chumbley outside the TARDIS. It’s got a bomb!

The blast knocks the pair off their feet, but the ship itself is unharmed, surviving a second blast unscathed. The Chumbley leaves in defeat, and the men leg it before it can come back with an even bigger bomb.

On arriving back at the Drahvin ship, the Doctor tells Maaga that the planet is indeed going to explode, but he doesn’t share his knowledge of how little time they truly have left.

If the Drahvins are going to escape, they’ll need the Doctor’s help. Rather than ask for something reasonable, like a lift in the TARDIS, Maaga insists that the travellers help to capture the Rills’ ship. The Doctor refuses, as he’s not in the business of killing people, and he’s not about to start now.

The gang are starting to get suspicious of her version of the story and her insistence that they can’t possibly work together with the Rills, and it seems they’re right, as when asking nicely doesn’t work, Maaga threatens them with a gun. Steven tries to subdue her, but he’s no match for all her soldiers.

Left with no choice, the Doctor reluctantly agrees to help. However, his initial hesitance has made Maaga suspicious of him, and she threatens to kill Vicki unless he admits what he’s not telling her. He tells her how little time they really have, and she orders the men to go out immediately to capture the ship, intending to hold Vicki hostage. However, Steven insists on taking her place, and the Doctor and Vicki set off alone to try and capture a spaceship.

It doesn’t make sense to me. Surely it’d be better if they had the soldiers with them? There must be somewhere that Maaga could safely hold a hostage.

How about the air lock?

While awaiting the return of the others, Steven gets chatting to one of the soldiers, pointing out that it doesn’t seem very fair that Maaga gets better food and weapons than them, despite them being on the front lines and taking all the actual risks. He suggests to her that if she were to give him her gun, and she took Maaga’s, they could go out together and kill Chumbleys, and Maaga would be pleased with her. The soldier, being both naive and not terribly bright, which is presumably by design, is very nearly taken in, before Maaga shows up and puts an end to Steven’s short-lived escape attempt.

Maaga suggests to Steven that he could leave in the TARDIS and take her and her soldiers with him.

Why didn’t you ask that in the first place?!

Steven echoes my sentiments, and Maaga more or less tells him to shut up.

Charming. It’s a bit late now, though. Without the Doctor, Steven couldn’t take them off the planet even if he were so inclined.

Near the Rills’ base of operations, Vicki and the Doctor observe the movements of the Chumbleys, and Vicki realises that aside from being blind, the Chumbleys can’t detect sounds directly behind them. A suspiciously convenient design flaw, if you ask me. By exploiting this they manage to tail a Chumbley all the way to the Rills’ base, where they find a drill rig, and some sort of air purifier.

In summarising this, I am editing out the many, many pauses in the action in which a Chumbley rolls past agonisingly slowly, making a deeply irritating noise, while the Doctor and Vicki wait for it to pass. The pacing of this episode, and indeed the whole serial, would be a lot tighter without all these lulls, though I suspect it might end up a whole episode shorter.

Oh, and we finally get a glimpse of the Rills, observing them through a viewport inside their ship. I was half-expecting the Rills to turn out to be ordinary men, as it seemed to me that as Maaga was likely stretching the truth about their villainy, she might also be fibbing about them being monsters. Plus with her distaste for men to the point of absurdity, it would have been funny.

To give her credit, she was telling the truth– to a certain extent.

See, there’s one thing we can confirm about the Rills: they are most certainly NOT men. Not even close, appearing less like a person and more like a rotting whale carcass with lamprey mouths for eyes.

But are they as scary as they look?

AIR LOCK

A Chumbley arrives on scene, and the pair make a run for it. However, Vicki isn’t quite fast enough, and ends up trapped inside the Rills’ base. The Doctor quickly comes up with a plan to flush the Rills out of hiding, which will hopefully force them to open the doors, by messing with their air converter. However, it’ll take time, so he counsels Vicki to be brave and try to stay out of trouble, and go with the Chumbley.

Back at the Drahvin ship, Maaga’s finding that lab-grown soldiers with hardly any minds of their own make for poor conversation partners, as she tries to get through to them that the situation has changed, so no, they can’t go out on patrol. The soldiers are confused by the loyalty Steven shows to his friends, and Maaga, too, finds it confusing. She knows on an intellectual level that such creatures exist, but it would appear that Drahvin culture doesn’t share this concept with our own. Perhaps it’s her society, or just how she’s wired.

Still, inspirational speeches seem pretty universal, as Maaga gives her soldiers a lovely pep talk about stealing the Rills’ ship, and looking back on the exploding planet and imagining the horrible deaths the Rills are experiencing.

Nice lady.

As for the Rills, well, it turns out they’re rather polite. Using a Chumbley to translate his thoughts into speech that Vicki can understand, the Rill at the porthole apologises to her for separating her from the Doctor, and asks her who she is and what she’s doing here. When she explains that the Drahvins are forcing her to help steal the Rills’ ship, the Rill within is quite perplexed, as they had offered to take the Drahvins with them.

This Rill’s side of the story is that they encountered the Drahvins in space, and had halted their flight for fear of provoking an attack. He claims that the Drahvins fired first, so the Rills retaliated. Interesting.

Unable to breathe the local atmosphere, they nevertheless set out to help the Drahvins, finding one badly injured. However, before they could help her, Maaga intervened and drove them off, and as they left they witnessed her kill the injured soldier.

Curious, Vicki wants to properly know what the Rill looks like. However, he can’t come outside, as he can’t breathe oxygen at all.

That seems inconsistent with them having attempted to help an injured Drahvin, but it’s not terribly important.

Vicki realises with horror that the Doctor’s plan to flush them out will actually kill them.

Meanwhile, a dozy Drahvin provides Steven with another opportunity to escape, as he manages to sneakily subdue her and take her gun. However, on reaching the airlock, he finds himself stuck. On one side is Maaga, demanding he come back in. On the other is a Chumbley, which as far as he knows is unfriendly. He’s trapped.

Vicki manages to stop the Doctor from accidentally killing the Rills, and the Rill at the porthole explains to the Doctor that they’re drilling for oil to refuel their ship. The Doctor warns them that they don’t have as much time as they think. However, he can help.

Before he can elaborate much further, a Chumbley gets a message, and the group learn that Steven is trapped in the Drahvin airlock.

It’s worse than that, though. Tired of Steven’s misbehaviour, Maaga gives him three options: he can come inside and surrender, he can go out and face death by Chumbley, or she can depressurise the airlock with him inside.

Realising that Steven is in big trouble, the others rush off to help, taking a couple of Chumbleys for backup.

Struggling to breathe as the airlock depressurises, Steven decides to try his luck with the Chumbley. However, now that it’s depressurised, the outer door doesn’t work any more. His three options are down to two: surrender or suffocate.

THE EXPLODING PLANET

Arriving in the nick of time, one of the Chumbleys accompanying the Doctor and Vicki manages to blast the airlock open, and Steven staggers out gasping for breath. As the other two help him recover, a smoke bomb sends the Drahvins coughing and spluttering out of their ship. However, they find themselves outgunned by Chumbleys. As the travellers retreat with a Chumbley in tow, the Rills tell the Drahvins that though they’ve tried to be friendly, they won’t tolerate their new friends being attacked. They order the Drahvins to go back into their ship and stay there.

Maaga and her soldiers retreat and regroup, but they certainly don’t intend to stay put. With only one night remaining to capture the Rills’ ship, Maaga comes up with a plan to sneak out and destroy the Rills’ air converter.

The Doctor meanwhile offers the Rills a jump-start, heading off to hook up his ship to the Rills’ ship. Steven stays behind alone with the Rills, and it’s a bit awkward at first, made even more so when he asks if the Rills will actually let them go if they can’t power the ship in time. However, the Rills are not the Drahvins. If time runs out, so be it. Having seen the code the Doctor lives by, it would be a terrible waste if he were to die here for no reason.

Steven sheepishly apologises for mistrusting them, and tells them that the Drahvins will still be planning to steal their ship, and he gets to work on fixing the power cable.

Vicki and the Doctor arrive back at the TARDIS and connect the power line. It’s not very important, but there is a pretty line of dialogue in response to Vicki’s musings about this all soon exploding into nothingness. Not nothingness, the Doctor corrects her, but hydrogen gas spreading out among the stars like molten silver. It interests me how the Doctor finds the beauty even in destruction.

The first foreshocks of the planet’s destruction hit the Drahvin ship, and they begin to panic. Maaga may be about to reap what she’s sown, but I feel bad for her soldiers, because they don’t really understand their situation or how they’ve been manipulated. One of the Drahvins sneaks out of the ship and manages to smash the sentry chumbley with a pipe, enabling the others to escape.

The Rills usher the travellers to shelter inside their ship, which doesn’t sound very safe. I’m pretty sure ammonia and humans don’t mix. A Chumbley paralyses the first Drahvin to attempt entry into the Rills’ base, and more emerge to confront the Drahvins outside.

Finally coming face to face, the travellers, though initially a little taken aback by the Rills’ appearance, reckon that they probably look just as strange from the Rills’ perspective, so why treat them any different? It’s not the most subtle delivery of the moral of the story, as I’d have thought even a child could have gathered the ‘don’t judge people by how they look’ message, but there you go.

They can’t stay inside for long, as the ammonia starts to make Vicki feel ill, and the ship is almost fully powered. The Doctor insists that they don’t hang around to make sure that the travellers get back to the TARDIS safely, and they prepare to take off.

The Drahvins notice the sudden absence of Chumbleys, and see the Rill ship leaving. Their only hope now is the TARDIS, and they chase after the travellers. However, they aren’t fast enough, and the gang slam the doors shut and dematerialise as fast as they can, abandoning the Drahvins to their fate.

Maaga and her soldiers watch in terror as they realise they have no means of escape, and moments later the planet explodes in a flash of blinding light. Maaga may have made her own bed, but I’m not sure how I feel about abandoning her soldiers, as they really didn’t seem to have the capacity to go against Maaga. They might have had a limited degree of free will, but they could still feel pain and fear.

Safely away, the Doctor remarks that just once, he would like to land somewhere where he isn’t immediately surrounded by danger. They spot a likely planet, and we get to see a vibrant jungle, where a man sits with his gun, chanting under his breath ‘I must kill’. So it doesn’t look like the Doctor’s getting a break any time soon.

Final Thoughts

Honestly, there’s not that much to say about Galaxy 4. It doesn’t feel like anything particularly new, given we’ve had multiple stories in which the travellers find themselves in the midst of a conflict between two races on some other planet, one side being the baddies and the other the goodies.

As for tension, there’s really not much. The Chumbleys were too cute to be a threat in the first place, and as we learn they weren’t actually a threat at all. The Drahvins are just too incompentant to feel threatening, and the Rills immediately turn out to be nice. The whole thing has quite a plodding pace that doesn’t make me feel the urgency of the situation.

As a minor note, I feel like there was a point being made with the Drahvins, but I’m not sure what that point was. It could be taken as pro- or anti- feminist, depending on your outlook. On the one hand it’s a female-led society and a bunch of powerful warrior women. On the other, the society is misandrist to the point of absurdity, only one of the Drahvins actually has a name, the others being portrayed and described in-story as woman-shaped objects, Maaga’s leadership is deeply questionable and founded in manipulation, and the warrior women can’t even defend themselves from an unarmed teenage girl, as happens in one moment in the story where Vicki disarms a lone Drahvin.

If the intention was pro-feminist, the writer severely undermined his own message. And if it wasn’t, that doesn’t surprise me. Other than that it’s just not a terribly interesting serial to me. It’s not terrible or anything, but you’re not missing much.

Next time we’re going on a very brief trip, so hopefully there will be plenty of action packed into the next adventure.

Until next time!

2 out of 5 stars




[September 30, 1965] Big and Little Bangs (October 1965 Analog)


by Gideon Marcus

The Big One

Billions of years ago, the entire universe was smaller than the head of a pin.  For an endless eternity, or perhaps just an instant, it remained in this state – and then it exploded outward with the force of creation, ultimately becoming all that we see today.

Until this year, this "Big Bang" theory was as yet unconfirmed.  It had stiff competition in the "Steady State" hypothesis, which postulated that the universe is indeed expanding, but because of matter being constantly created.  This was fundamental to the plot of Pohl and Williamson's recent novels set in the reefs of space at the edges of our solar system.

But last year, Arno Penzias and Robert Wilson at the Bell Telephone Laboratories in Murray Hill, New Jersey noticed an excess of radio noise in the receiver they were building, an excess that closely resembled the Cosmic Microwave Background predicted by physicists Ralph Alpherin, Robert Herman, and George Gamow.  This extremely low level but pervasive energy is what's left of the heat of the primeval explosion, reduced to microwaves by the expansion of the universe.


The Murray Hill facility where the echoes of the Big Bang were discovered

Smaller Ones

Here on Earth, it seems our planet is anxious to imitate the violence of the universe at large.  On September 28, the Taan Volcano off the coast of the Philippine island of Luzon exploded, killing hundreds of Filipinos.

And less of a bang and more of a blaaat, we've just finished ringing in the Jewish new year with the traditional blowing of a ram's horn.

The Littlest One

Meanwhile, editor John W. Campbell, Jr. seems content to not rock the boat, providing a mixed bag of diverting fare and stale garbage in the latest issue of Analog, a combination that is unlikely to knock anyone off their feet.


by John Schoenherr

Overproof, by Johnathan Blake MacKenzie

On a planet two hundred light years from home, a husband and wife pair of anthropologists come across a horrifying discovery.  The native Darotha, an amphibian race resembling across between a cat and an octopus, are eating humans.  At least, it seems that way – the Yahoos, apelike herd animals on their planet, bear a striking resemblance to homo sapiens.  Are the Darothans really mass murderers?  Or are looks deceiving?


by John Schoenherr

This is an interesting piece that Randall Garrett (under a pseudonym) has offered up.  Unusually for an Analog story, the Darothans are a well-drawn alien race and not played for inferiority – indeed, they are treated with sensitivity not only by the author but by the Terran colonists on the planet, who see them as exciting as potential partners and as an example of non-human society.  In the end, the story is essentially an inverse of Piper's Fuzzy stories, where the question is not whether the humanoid Yahoos possess the spark of humanity, but whether they don't.

It's not a perfect story.  The conclusion is pretty obvious from the beginning, it meanders and repeats a bit, but it's more subtle than what I usually see in Analog, and it kept me interested.

Three stars.

The Veteran, by Robert Conquest

Humans from the future, who have forgotten the art of war, summon someone from the past to lead them in a war against alien nasties.  Unfortunately for them, the person they've found is a devout pacifist.  But luckily, the fellow discovers the battle lust within that he needs to fulfill his role.

Rather offensive, simplistic, and for some reason, the aliens conquer our solar system in reverse order of distance from the Sun even though it's unlikely that they'd all be lined up so obligingly.

Two stars.

Snakebite!, by Alexander W. Hulett, M.D. and William Hulett

For some reason, Campbell saw fit to include this high school science project discussing the use of snake venom to produce antivenom blood serum in rodents.  As an actual article, it might have been mildly interesting, but in its current form, it's pretty pointless.

Two stars.

The Mischief Maker, by Richard Olin


by John Schoenherr

A story told in epistolary, Maker describes how a crackpot professor with a grudge stumbles across the great power of the Law of Analogy, which he uses to destroy the leaders of America through various bits of voodoo and witchcraft.  Truth be told, my eyes glazed over when the author mentioned the Hieronymous Machine, that psychic amplifier requiring no power source that editor Campbell is so enamored of.

Two stars.

Space Pioneer (Part 2 of 3), by Mack Reynolds


by John Schoenherr

Last but not least, we have the continuation of Reynolds' serial that began last month.  When last we'd seen the assassin impersonating Rog Bock, shareholder in the colonial venture on New Arizona, his masquerade had been discovered by at least one other shareholder.

Part 2 begins with the colony ship Titov landing on its virgin planet destination, so closely resembling Earth as to be a near twin.  The rapaciousness of the shareholders' goal becomes clear as the 2000 colonists find they have virtually no rights, that the shareholders plan to sell the valuable resource rights to outside entities almost immediately, and that the crew of the ship largely comprise ex-military personnel to make them a ready police force to keep the settlers in line.

Unrest threatens to boil over as the colony teeters on the brink of collapse, reeling from colonist indolence and sabotage by unknown persons – but by the end of this installment, they all have bigger concerns to worry about…

Again, Pioneer has only the barest trappings of science fiction.  Nevertheless, this is one of Reynolds' more deft tales, and I'm enjoying it a lot.

Four stars for this bit.

Seismographic Data

Where does this leave us for the month?  Well, Analog clocks in at just 2.7 stars, below Fantasy and Science Fiction (3.4), Science Fantasy (3.3), New Worlds (2.8), and Worlds of Tomorrow (2.8); it is just tied with the lackluster Galaxy.

It did manage to beat out the disappointing Amazing (2.6), IF (2.3), and the truly awful Gamma (1.5), however.

There were just two and a half pieces written by women (one was co-written) out of 58: 4.3%.  Surprisingly, the women-penned tales were all in the UK mags, which are usually all stag.  No women authors were included in either of the "All Star" Galaxy and F&SF issues this month, which is a real shame.  Where are Evelyn Smith and Margaret St. Clair?

Perhaps they are planning to return with a bang.  I certainly expect to herald their next stories with fireworks!



Looking for good science fiction by women?  Look no further than Rediscovery: Science Fiction by Women (1958-1963), the bestseller containing 14 of our favorite stories of the Journey era!




[September 20, 1965] Unfinished Business (October Fantasy and Science Fiction)


by Gideon Marcus

Leaving things hanging

There's something compelling about things left incomplete – from Schubert's Unfinished Symphony to President Kennedy's first term.  In the gaps of what could have been, we can fill in countless possibilities rather than just the one.

This month's Fantasy and Science Fiction (like this month's Galaxy, an "All-Star" anniverary issue) trades almost exclusively in incompletes, its pieces ending in ellipses dots rather than hard stops.

Does this make for an effective magazine?  Let's dig in and find out:

Beginnings…


by Chesley Bonestell

… And Call Me Conrad (Part 1 of 2), by Roger Zelazny

Hundreds of years from now, a war-ravaged, radiation-scoured Earth is little more than a colony of the blue-skinned Vegans who lease our planet out of historical curiosity.  Humanity is much reduced, confined to the former backwaters of civilization. 

Against this backdrop, we are introduced to Conrad Nomikos, head of the world's antiquities preservation bureau, who is tapped to escort a Vegan journalist as the alien gathers information for a travelogue of blasted Earth.

But there is far more to Conrad than he likes to let on.  Something of a rogue, and possessed of pretenatural strength, skills, and psychic abilities, he is actually Konstantin Karaghiosis – mutated into a Methusaleh by radiation and erstwhile leader of a radical anti-Vegan colonial movement that had, decades before, spiked Vegan ambitions to take all of Earth.

Now Conrad finds himself embroiled in multiple intertwined plots as the Vegan journalist becomes the target of an assassination attempt, his mission to Earth having a more significant goal than just a John Gunther volume.  Conrad, too, is personally imperiled, though who wants him dead and why are open questions.

This first part of a serial leaves off just as the second attempt on Conrad's life (if such they were; he cannot be certain) has failed.  It looks as if Conrad may well have to resume the revolutionary mantle of Konstantin to navigate the crisis.

Zelazny can sometimes be a tough pill for me to swallow.  One of the Journey's regular readers observed that he's done more than any current SF writer to bring Hemingway to our genre, and I feel that Roger sometimes trades readability for that stylistic choice.  That said, after a somewhat plodding beginning, the fleshed out background and advanced storyline becomes quite compelling.

Call it three stars for now, but with potential for the ending (if and when it come) to raise things retrospectively.

Mirror, Mirror, by Avram Davidson

Milquetoasty fan of A. Merritt spends his spare hours scouring local second-hand shops for jade mirrors with which to escape our reality into something more fantastical and swashbuckling.  What he doesn't count on is someone from another reality with a similar passion finding their way to his world.

As a premise, it's a fantastic mirror to works like The Incomplete Enchanter.  As a vignette, however, it suffers for an overlong beginning (relative to the length of the piece) and the lack of a real resolution.  In this case, unfinished means unsatisfying.

Three stars.


by Gahan Wilson

(here's a rather pointless doodle by Mr. Wilson, one that doesn't even pertain to our genre; the reason for its inclusion escapes me)

The Future, Its Promoters and False Prophets by E. Brandis and V. Dmitrevskiy, and
Replies by Poul Anderson and Isaac Asimov and Ray Bradbury and Mack Reynolds

Here's an interesting piece: a critique of American science fiction by two Soviets followed by replies by the authors specifically mentioned (including reference to Asimov's foreword to More Soviet Science Fiction).  It makes for a fascinating debate, one that is clearly ongoing.  I hope F&SF continues to cover it.

Five stars.

No Jokes on Mars, by James Blish

A journalist is sent to the Red Planet to check up on a colleague whose work has become perfunctory and cynical.  While on a tour of the Martian wilderness, her escorts poach a pomander from the pouch of a native dune-cat; the aromatic ball is of high value on Earth as a perfumed ornament, but its heist dooms the Martian creatures (who prove to be sentient) to a slow death.  Can she make it off Mars with the story?

It's a good story, but it suffers both for its 1950s depiction of Mars and the extremely sudden ending, which I ended up reading several times, wondering if I'd missed a paragraph or two somewhere.  Here, the unfinished nature left me wanting rather than dreaming.

Three stars.

The Glorious Fourth, by Jack Sharkey

Three astronauts from Earth land on an Eden teeming with an ecology so vigorous that its creatures refuse to die.  One of the crew, despairing of service under the martinet captain, goes native – literally.  And while the process is pleasant for him, the interaction between the remaining two and the planet's life forms is ultimately less enjoyable.

Jack Sharkey's byline is one I'm normally wary of, but he delivers a decent story here, and the vague ending, only hinting at the horrors the two spacemen will face (and the reason for their unpleasantness), is effective.

Three stars.

Minutes of A Meeting At The Mitre, by Robert F. Young

Old Nick meets Samuel Johnson.  With a punchline telegraphed from the beginning, the only motivation for this piece seems to be Young's desire to do a Boswell pastiche. 

Well, the story may have finished, but it's clear that the hoary "Deal with the Devil" subgenre of fantasy is not.

Two stars.

The Land of Mu, by Isaac Asimov

The Good Doctor picks up where he left in his elementary physical particles, this time discussing the differences between electrons and mu mesons (muons).  It's an absolutely fascinating piece, and it's very clear from its conclusion that there is still so very much we don't know about the universe's tiniest components.

Five stars.

Something Else, by Robert J. Tilley

A punctilious, nature-hating music professor crashlands on a deserted planet with only a clarinet and box of jazz music spools to keep him company.  Well, not quite deserted: there is also a solitary shaggy alien with the ability to mimic music perfectly.  Thus begins an interspecies friendship.

Perhaps intentionally, the ultimate story in this collection does have a definite ending, which is sadly to its detriment.  Rather than building to some kind of revelatory peak offering some sort of interesting insight on the human condition, there is, instead, a pointless downer of a conclusion, better suited to a lesser episode of The Twilight Zone.  Tilley, the piece's author, is also about 20% more wordy than he needs to be.

Three stars.

Endings?

I would say that this month's reliance on the unfinished story had mixed results.  However, at the very least, I am now looking forward to the conclusion of the Zelazny piece; at most, I find my thoughts returning to the other uncertain endings, imagining the myriad outcomes that might have better resolved these otherwise unsettled lines.

Art reflects reality indeed!



Our next Journey Show: At the Movies, is going to be a blast!

DON'T MISS IT!




[September 16, 1965] Blessed Are The Peacemakers (November 1965 Worlds of Tomorrow)


by Victoria Silverwolf

Ain't Gonna Study War No More

As my esteemed colleague David Levinson recently noted, war is currently raging, as it so often does, in various places around the globe. Fortunately, voices are beginning to be raised against this lamentably common human evil.


Benjamin Spock, the famous baby doctor, leads a group of folks protesting the conflict in Vietnam on a march to the United Nations in April of this year.

Whether these peace-loving people will have any effect on the escalating presence of American forces in Southeast Asia remains to be seen. Meanwhile, we can turn to the pages of the latest issue of Worlds of Tomorrow for a fictional look at an unusual way to change war into peace.

They Shall Beat Their Swords Into Plowshares


The cover reproduces, in shrunken and edited form, various illustrations from the pen of Virgil Finlay, subject of an article within the magazine. I recognize the one in the middle, showing the face of a ape-man, as coming from the January 1965 issue. Maybe some of you clever readers can tell me the sources of the others.

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


Illustrations by Gray Morrow. I don't know if that artist also came up with the rather eccentric, pseudo-archaic introductory paragraph shown here. Maybe it's the work of the author, or possibly editor Frederik Pohl. In any case, it's very odd, not really in keeping with the mood of the novel.

The time is the early twenty-first century. There are references to space travel within the solar system, but that's way in the background. We have the usual flying cars and such that we're used to in tales of the fairly near future.


Like I said, flying cars. Also, people wear capes and funny-looking hats.

Our main character — I can't really call him the hero — is one Lars Powderdry. I assume his peculiar name is an allusion to the phrase keep your powder dry, attributed to Oliver Cromwell. The intent must be ironic, as Lars does the exact opposite of getting ready for battle (the literal meaning) and is not otherwise prepared for future events (the metaphoric meaning.)

That requires some explanation. You see, Lars has a most peculiar job. He's a weapons fashion designer. This is even weirder than it sounds. It involves going into a trance, with the aid of mind-altering drugs, in order to enhance his natural psychic abilities. While in this state, he perceives images of complex designs for very strange weapons. These are passed along to military folks, who in turn give them to manufacturers.

Why, then, do I say that Lars is not keeping his powder dry? That's because the so-called weapons are nothing of the kind. The elites make the ordinary folks think they are, but in reality the designs are used to make unusual consumer products, generally of a trivial, frivolous nature.


Here's an example, taken from a sidebar in the magazine. Again, I don't know if this is the work of the author or the editor.

In order to fool the public, the manufacturers produce faked films showing the phony weapons in action. This situation came about because of a secret agreement between the two sides in the Cold War. The ignorant masses believe their governments are ready to attack the other side, while their rulers avoid the possibility of a real, destructive war.


An example of the deception in action. The zombie-like guys, supposedly criminals subjected to the mind-destroying guns shown here, are really robots.

Lars has a counterpart on the other side, a woman named Lilo Topchev. Although he doesn't know anything about her, having only seen a photograph so blurry that it doesn't reveal anything at all, he feels an unexplained attraction to her. (The author doesn't say, but maybe this has something to do with their extrasensory powers.)

There's another woman in his life as well. Maren Faine runs the Paris office of his weapons fashion house. She's also his mistress. They annoy each other much of the time, but there seems to be genuine affection between the two. Their relationship has a touch of sadomasochism to it. Maren enjoys mocking her lover, who is well aware that he's not as smart as she is.


Maren Faine. The artist nicely captures her personality. Intelligent, capable, self-assured, cynical, and maybe a little bit cruel.

While visiting her in Paris, Lars finds a device made from one of the ersatz weapons he dreams up in his trance states. The gizmo is a sphere that answers questions. For most people, it's just a toy, sort of like a super-fancy version of those Magic 8 Ball things most of us have fooled around with.


Did I have one of these things? Reply hazy, try again later.

Lars treats the sphere more seriously, asking it about himself. He gets some uncomfortable answers, discovering that his reservations about the way he's helping the elite deceive the public aren't really a matter of ethics, but due to his own fears of losing his psychic powers.


Lars and the mechanical oracle.

As if that were not enough of a painful look into his soul, Maren is a bit psychic herself, able to detect her lover's subconscious emotions. She knows about his obsession with Lilo, for example, explaining it in Freudian terms.

Things get complicated when satellites appear in orbit, not launched by either side. Robots sent to investigate the objects are destroyed. The assumption is that they are the work of hostile aliens. Faced with the possibility of an attack by extraterrestrials, the elite bring Lars and Lilo together in Iceland. Their mission is clear. Work together, using their psychic abilities to come up with a design for a real weapon, or face the consequences.


An agent for the other side shows Lars what the consequences will be.

There's lots of other stuff I haven't mentioned. In particular, an important subplot involves an unpleasant fellow named Surley G. Febbs, who is drafted to become one of the six average citizens who work with the military, dealing with the designs envisioned by Lars. It's not yet clear what part he'll play in the plot, but I suspect it will be a vital one.

Although not a comedy, there's a strong satiric edge to this novel. Both sides in the bloodless Cold War engage the services of the same private espionage agency, which gives them just enough information to keep them paying for more.

The many characters are complex and varied, with flaws and quirks that make them seem real. (A notable exception: There's one minor character whose only function seems to be to have the author describe her breasts.) I'm definitely interested enough to wonder what's going to happen two months from now.

Four stars.

Me, Myself, and Us, by Michael Girdansky

This nonfiction article deals with the connections between the two halves of the brain, and what happens when they are cut. The author goes on to describe a highly speculative way in which to give someone two separate personalities in one body, making reference to the well-known story Beyond Bedlam by Wyman Guin. The suggestion is that such a person would be the perfect spy.


Cover art by Emsh.

Although there's some interesting information here, I found it distressing to read. Not only is the suggested creation of a human being with two minds disturbing, but the author describes real surgical experiments on animals that are horrifying. Maybe that's only my squeamishness, but I wish he had just talked about those unfortunate people who have had the link between the hemispheres of their brains severed.

Two stars.

Last of a Noble Breed, by Mack Reynolds


Illustrations by Normal Nodel.

We begin in the city of Estoril, Portugal, a luxurious resort community. A couple married for only six months is there for business as well as pleasure. The husband, a nuclear engineer, is trying to win a position by meeting with various members of the European upper class.

In this future world, being an aristocrat is vital to one's success. Annoyed by the snobs and a little drunk, the man half-jokingly announces that his wife's grandmother was the hereditary Sachem of the Cherokees, which is true enough. This leads to a worldwide movement to have the United States government restore tribal lands to her people, even though the woman is only one-quarter Cherokee, at most. (Her grandmother, whom she met exactly once, might not have been one hundred percent Cherokee.)


Uncle Sam faces a problem. I'm not sure what that sign is supposed to say. Unfair to what? Queens? That doesn't make sense, as a Sachem is not at all a monarch.

This isn't the most plausible premise in the world, even for a comedy. There are some enjoyable bits of satire, and the author provides some accurate information about the Cherokee people, as far as I can tell. But the lighthearted mood doesn't match well with the truly tragic history of the Cherokees. The husband has a habit of calling his wife a squaw, which annoys me as much as it does her.

Two stars.

The Sightseers, by Thomas M. Disch

Rich people have themselves placed in suspended animation for thousands of years at a time, emerging to enjoy a lavish lifestyle for a while, then jumping back inside their time capsule. Oddly, things never seem to change. These time tourists stick to the fabulous hotels and restaurants that cater to them, which remain unaltered over millennia.

The only other people they encounter are the Nubians who serve their every whim. The suspension device breaks down, and a couple of the tourists, more curious than their much older consorts, investigate the world outside their sumptuous lodgings.

You'll probably predict the true nature of the Nubians, and why vast amounts of time appear to have no effect on the world. Although there are no surprises, the story is decently written. Disch has a knack for this kind of sardonic tale.

Three stars.

Virgil Finlay, Dean of Science Fiction Artists, by Sam Moskowitz

Here's a detailed biography and account of the career of a great talent. I don't know where the author dug up all of this information, but you'll learn a heck of a lot about the artist's life and work. There's only one problem.

No illustrations!

I know there are probably legal and budgetary reasons why this article doesn't include any examples of Finlay's drawings, but it's really frustrating to read about his artwork and not see it. In particular, Finlay's illustration for Robert Bloch's story The Faceless Gods, from the May 1936 issue of Weird Tales, is talked about quite a bit. We're told that readers were excited by it, and that H. P Lovecraft even wrote a poem about it. At least we get half of the poem, but we have no clue what the illustration looked like.

To save you from the same agony I underwent, I dug deep into piles of moldering old pulps and pulled out the drawing, as well as the complete poem. You're welcome.

Two stars.

Worldmaster, by Keith Laumer


Illustrations by John Giunta.

The narrator is the sole survivor of a huge space battle. Both sides were completely destroyed. It turns out that this was deliberate on the part of the admiral who directed his side of the battle. He held back his gigantic flagship, which would have won a victory without the loss of the other vessels in his fleet.

His plan is to return to Earth in command of the only remaining warship, and thus take control of the planet. (Apparently this takes place at a time when the Cold War has heated up, but only in space. We're told that planetary forces are of little importance.)


And there are flying cars.

He offers the narrator the opportunity to join him, but our hero refuses. A couple of goons try to kill him, but he overpowers them and manages to get back to Earth through trickery. What follows is a series of chases and fight scenes, as the narrator tries to stop the admiral's fiendish plan.


And there's a big fire.

Typical for the author in his action/adventure mode, this story moves at a breakneck pace, and features a protagonist who overcomes all obstacles with wits, fists, and not a little luck. It's an efficient example of that sort of thing.

Three stars.

Mother, Is the Battle Over?

We started off with peace disguised as war, and wound up with the aftermath of war. Was it worth fighting for? Well, Philip K. Dick's novel-in-progress definitely piques my interest, although I suspect it will not appeal to all tastes. The rest of the issue is something of a disappointment, like a hasty retreat after an inconclusive skirmish. At least the only casualties of the conflicts inside these pages are imaginary ones. There are far too many in the real world. I wish you all peace.


The design scrawled on this guitar case, spotted on the campus of the University of California at Berkeley this year, was created by British pacifist Gerald Holtom, as a symbol for the nuclear disarmament movement. It has since shown up a lot of places, as a sign for peace in general. I like it.






[September 14, 1965] The Face is Familiar (October 1965 Galaxy)


by Gideon Marcus

In all the old familiar places…

All summer long, the Traveler family's television tradition has included the game show, Password.  Though it may seem odd that such a program should rival in importance to us such stand-outs as Secret Agent and Burke's Law, if you read my recent round-up of the excellent TV of the 64-65 season, you'll understand why we like the show.

Sadly, the September 9 episode marked the beginning of a hiatus and, perhaps, an outright cancellation of the show.  No more primetime Password, nor the daily afternoon editions either.  Whither host extraordinaire Allen Ludden?

Apparently, What's my Line!  Both Ludden and his wife, Betty White, were the mystery guests last week; I guess they had the free time.  They were absolutely charming together, and it's clear they are still very much in love two years into their marriage.

Speaking of anniversaries, Galaxy, one of the genre's most esteemed monthly digests, is celebrating its 15th.  To mark the occasion, editor Fred Pohl has assembled a table of contents contributed by some of the magazine's biggest names (though I note with sadness that neither Evelyn Smith nor Katherine MacLean are represented among them).  These "all-star" issues (as Fantasy and Science Fiction calls them) often fail to impress as much as ones larded with newer writers, but one never knows until one reads, does one?

So, without further ado, let's get stuck in and see how Galaxy is doing, fifteen years on:

The issue at hand


by John Pederson, Jr.

The Age of the Pussyfoot (Part 1 of 3), by Frederik Pohl

The editor of Galaxy has a penchant for providing a great deal of his own material to his magazines.  Normally, I'd be worried about this.  It could be a sign of an editor taking advantage of position to guarantee sale of work that might not cut the mustard.  And even if the work is worthy, there is the real danger of overcommitment when one takes on the double role of boss and employee.

That said, some editors just find creation too fun to give up (yours truly included) and in the case of Pohl, he usually turns in a good tale, as he has for decades, so I won't begrudge him the practice.

Indeed, Pussyfoot is a welcome addition to the mag.  A variation on the classic The Sleeper Awakes theme, in this case, the time traveling is done via the rather new technology of cryogenics.  Indeed, protagonist Charles Forester, 37-year old erstwhile fireman, is one of the very first corpses to be frozen circa 1969, and wakes up in the overcrowded but utopian world of 2527 A.D.


by Wallace Wood

Feeling immortal (with some justification – no one really dies anymore; they just get put on ice until they can be brought back, often within minutes) and also wealthy (but $250,000 doesn't stretch as far as it used to) Forester takes a while to really come to grips with his new situation, always just a touch too clueless for his own good, and perhaps plausibility.

Very quickly, he learns that things are not perfect in the future: being immortal means one can be murdered on a lark and the culprits go unpunished.  Inflation has rendered Forester's fortune valueless.  He must get a job, any job.  But the one he finds that will employ an unskilled applicant turns out to be the one no one wants: personal assistant to a disgusting alien!

There's some really good worldbuilding stuff in this story, particularly the little rod-shaped "joymakers" everyone carries that are telephone, computer terminal, personal assistant, drug dispenser, and more.  I also liked the inclusion of inflation, which is usually neglected in stories of the future.  It all reads a bit like a Sheckley story writ long, something Sheckley's always had trouble with.  It's not perfect, but it is fun and just serious enough to avoid being farce.

Four stars for now,

Inside Man, by H. L. Gold

The first editor of Galaxy started out as a writer, but even though he turned over the helm of his magazine four years ago (officially – it was probably earlier), he hasn't published in a long time, so it's exciting to see his byline again.  Inside Man is a nice, if nor particularly momentous, story about a fellow with a telepathy for machines.  And since machines are usually in some state of disrepair, it's not a very pleasant gift.

Three stars.

The Machines, Beyond Shylock, by Ray Bradbury

Judith Merril sums up Bradbury beautifully in this month's F&SF, describing him as the avatar of science fiction to the lay population, but deemed a mixed bag by the genre community.  His short poem, about how the human spirit will always have something robots do not, is typically oversentimental and not a little opaque.  And it's not just the font Pohl used.

Two stars.

Fifteen Years of Galaxy — Thirteen Years of F.Y.I., by Willy Ley

The science columns of Willy Ley comprised one of main draws for Galaxy back when I first got my subscription.  In this article, Ley goes over the various topics of moment he's covered over the last decade and a half, providing updates where appropriate.  It's a neat little tour of his tenure with the magazine.

Four stars.

A Better Mousehole, by Edgar Pangborn

Pangborn, like Bradbury, is another of the genre's sentimentalists.  When he does it well, he does it better than anyone.  This weird story, told in hard-to-read first person, said protagonist being a bartender who finds alien, thought-controlling blue bugs in his shop, is a slog.

Two stars.

Three to a Given Star, by Cordwainer Smith

Oh frabjous day!  A new Instrumentality story!  This one tells the tale of three unique humans sent off to pacify the gabbling, cackling cannibals of Linschoten XV: "Folly", once a beautiful woman and now a 11-meter spaceship; "SAMM" a quarter-mile long bronze statue possessing a frightening armory; and "Finsternis", a giant cube as dark as night, and with the ability to extinguish suns.


by Gray Morrow

Guest appearances are made by Casher O' Neill and Lady Ceralta, two of humanity's most powerful telepaths whom we met in previous stories.

I've made no secret of my admiration for the Instrumentality stories, which together create a sweeping and beautiful epic of humanity's far future.  Three has a bit of a perfunctory character, somehow, and thus misses being a classic.

Still, even feeble Smith earns three stars.

Small Deer, by Clifford D. Simak

In Deer, a fellow makes a time machine, goes back to see the death of the dinosaurs, and discovers that aliens were rounding them up for meat… and that they might come back again now that humanity has teemed over the Earth.

A throwback of a story and definitely not up to Simak's standard.  A high two (or a low three if you're feeling generous and/or missed the last thirty years of science fiction).

The Good New Days, by Fritz Leiber

On an overcrowded Earth, steady work is a thing of the past.  Folks get multiple part time gigs to fill the time, including frivolous occupations like smiling at people on the way to work.  Satirical but overindulgent, I had trouble getting through it.  Two stars.

Founding Father, by Isaac Asimov

Dr. A was lured back into the world of fiction after an eight-year almost complete hiatus; apparently he can be cajoled into almost anything.  In Father, based on this month's cover, five marooned space travelers try to cleanse a planet of its poisonous ammonia content before their dwindling oxygen supplies run out.

It's a fair story, but I had real issues with the blitheness with which the astronauts plan to destroy an entire ecosystem that requires ammonia to survive.  In the end, when terrestrial plants manage to take root on the planet, spelling doom for the native life, it's heralded as a victory.

Two stars.

Shall We Have a Little Talk?, by Robert Sheckley


by Jack Gaughan

Bob Sheckley was a Galaxy staple (under his own name and several pseudonyms) for most of the 1950s.  His short stories are posssibly the best of anyone's, but he eschewed them for novels that just didn't have the same brilliance.

Well, he's back, and his first short story in Galaxy in ages is simply marvelous.  It involves a representative of a rapacious Terra who travels to a distant world to establish relations, said contact a prelude to its ultimate subjugation.  But first, he has to establish meaningful communications.

Fiercely satirical and hysterical to boot, Talk is Sheckley in full form.

Mun, er, five stars.

Summing up

In the end, this all-star issue was, as usual, something of a mixed bag.  Still, there's enough gold here to show that the river Gold established is still well worth panning.  Here's to another fifteen years!



[Journey Press now has three excellent titles for your reading pleasure! Why not pick up a copy or three? Not only will you enjoy them all — you'll be helping out the Journey!]




[September 12, 1965] So Far . . . Well, Fair (October 1965 Amazing)


by John Boston

Amazing, A.L. (after Lalli)

The shape of the post-Ziff-Davis Amazing and the new publisher’s reprint policy become much clearer in this October issue.  There are seven items of fiction here, and five of them are reprints, comprising about 55% of the magazine’s page count.  If this issue is typical, Amazing is drastically shrinking as a significant market for original fiction.

The two new fiction items are the first part of a two-part serial by Murray Leinster, whose future seems mostly to have been behind him for some years now, and yet another Ensign De Ruyter short story by Arthur Porges.  There is also another in the series of scientific hoax articles by Robert Silverberg. 

There’s an editorial, this time by managing editor Joseph Ross, rather than by Sol Cohen, “editor and publisher” on the masthead.  Ross shows himself to be as boring a writer as Cohen in his paean to Murray Leinster, the Dean of Science Fiction.  The letter column, now just called Letters, reappears, with one very long letter praising the new Amazing by someone who has bought the first Cohen issue, but hasn’t actually read it.  The point is elusive.  The mediocre cover is by Frank Kelly Freas, probably bought at a rummage sale or something; Freas has never appeared on Amazing’s cover before.


by Frank Kelly Freas

With all these inauspicious signs, it’s a bit surprising that the contents of the issue are a considerable improvement over the previous one, the first of the Cohen/Ross regime. 

Killer Ship (Part 1 of 2), by Murray Leinster


by Nodel

As is my practice, I’ll withhold comment on Killer Ship, the Leinster serial, until it’s finished, pausing only to note that Leinster seems to have taken up a hoary theme: space pirates!  And he begins on a determinedly vintage note: “He came of a long line of ship-captains, which probably explains the whole matter.” Hope struggles with trepidation.

The Eternal Eve, by John Wyndham

John Wyndham’s The Eternal Eve, from the September 1950 Amazing, begins as the protagonist Amanda sees a man approaching the cave she is living in and shoots him with her rifle.  She then pushes his body over the nearby cliff to be eaten by the giant crabs that live on the beach below, this being Venus.  From there, a flashback: Amanda has come to Venus for an 18-month job assisting an anthropological expedition.  But Earth blows up, leaving nobody alive but the modest colony on Venus and those humans who were on Mars or in space at the time.


by Rod Ruth

Order starts to erode in the obvious ways, one of which is pressure for Amanda to pair off with one of the men.  She’s not interested, and creates a diversion allowing her to slip off with her rifle and some supplies and set up housekeeping on her own, with the help of the childlike Venusian griffa.  Eventually she realizes she can’t live happily completely outside human society, so she gives in and comes back, facilitated by the appearance of Mr. Right, but not before she shoots him too.  Not fatally, though: think of it as romantic comedy, cordite replacing the flowers.

I’ve made this story sound a bit reactionary; not so.  Wyndham is actually pretty sensitive to the dilemmas posed for independent-minded women by the demands of male-dominated society, even if he doesn’t solve them in this story.  He's continued to chew on this theme in his later work, most notably the novella Consider Her Ways from the mid-1950s.  He is also a much more capable writer at the word and sentence level than most Amazing contributors, new or old, making this story a pleasure to read.  Am I really saying four stars?  Guess so.

Chrysalis, by Ray Bradbury


by McClish

Ray Bradbury’s Chrysalis, from the July 1946 issue, is much better than the execrable Final Victim from the last issue, though considerably cruder than the stories he puts in his collections.  Man here (Smith) has turned green and his skin has become a hard shell; also his metabolism has slowed almost to nothing.  He is being watched over by Dr. Rockwell (the sensible and inquiring one), Dr. Hartley (the near-hysterical one), and Dr. McGuire (the nebbish of the bunch).  Young Mr. Bradbury seems to have been spending a bit too much time at the movies, or else he’s aspiring to work for them, since the story proceeds mainly through scenes of these characters swapping reasonably sharp dialogue, while Smith continues being green and seemingly unconscious as strange transformations continue underneath the green shell.  Dr. Rockwell broaches the possibility of superman, or super-something, and shortly, the story’s title is enacted, unfortunately a bit anticlimactically.  The story is a bit too long, but the author moves it along capably.  Three stars.

The Metal Man, by Jack Williamson

Jack Williamson’s first published story, The Metal Man, from the December 1928 issue, has not worn well.  There’s a very lifelike metal statue of a man standing in the Tyburn College Museum—lifelike because it used to be Professor Kelvin of Geology, who got rich prospecting for radium.  Now he has been delivered in his statuesque form to his old friend, the narrator, in a wooden chest, along (of course) with his manuscript.  This recounts the Prof’s journey to El Rio de la Sangre, the River of Blood, which is highly radioactive.  He’s looking for the source, resorting to a small airplane whose parts he assembles on-site when he gets as far as a boat will take him. 


by Frank R. Paul

He winds up in a strange, colorful lost world.  Very colorful.  The river is like a red snake, and it goes underground and emerges in a mountain crater that holds a pool of green fire, extending to the black ramparts of the other side of the crater, while “the snow-capped summits about were brilliant argent crowns, dyed with crimson, tinged with purple and gold, tinted with strange and incredible hues.” A silver mist begins to descend.  The green lake rises up to a shining peak, and from it emerges—“a gigantic sphere of deep red, marked with four huge oval spots of dull black,” its surface “thickly studded with great spikes that seemed of yellow fire”!

This is all in the space of a few paragraphs.  After a brief respite, Prof. Kelvin finds his plane and himself covered with a pale blue luminosity, he is drawn down into the green (gaseous) lake to land, stumbles around and trips over a bird that has turned to metal, foreshadowing his own fate.  He has more adventures (also very colorful, but enough of that) as he blunders around in this strange world created by lots of radioactivity, becoming more metallic as he goes.  Unfortunately there’s not much more to the story than this parade of menacing wonders, made possible by the fact that back then nobody really knew that much about the effects of radioactivity.  Two stars. 

It should be noted that Williamson went on to produce The Green Girl, Through the Purple Cloud, The Stone from the Green Star, Red Slag of Mars, In the Scarlet Star, and Golden Blood, all within the next five years.  The visible spectrum seems to have been a good career move for him.

The Time Jumpers, by Philip Francis Nowlan


by Leo Morey

Philip Francis Nowlan, perpetrator of the Buck Rogers Yellow Peril epics, is here in a lighter mood with The Time Jumpers (February 1934 Amazing), a mildly amusing period piece (albeit with certain period attitudes) about a guy who invents a time car and, with his platonic girlfriend, first narrowly escapes from marauding Vikings, possibly Leif Ericson’s outfit, then makes a longer foray into the Colonial period, narrowly escaping from marauding Indians, briefly meeting the young not-yet-General Washington, and then narrowly escaping from a French officer and his marauding Indians.  Two stars.

Dusty Answer, by Arthur Porges

Dusty Answer is yet another of Arthur Porges’s tales of Ensign De Ruyter, notable chiefly for the excruciating tedium they achieve in relatively few pages.  Their formula is clever Earthmen outwitting stupid and primitive aliens through elementary science tricks, this time the ignition of dust suspended in air.  One star, if that.

The Kensington Stone, by Robert Silverberg

Robert Silverberg’s scientific hoax article, The Kensington Stone, concerns the finding and subsequent career of an inscription found in Minnesota which purported to show that the Norse Vinland settlement of Leif Erikson (yeah, him again, spelled a little differently) had sent an expedition as far as Minnesota.  This one is just as well written as its predecessors, suffering by comparison only because the underlying story is less captivating, with no picturesque fraudster at its center.  Three stars.

Summing Up

So: whatever one thinks about the new reprint policy at Amazing and Fantastic, new editor Ross has managed this month (or bi-month) to put together a decently readable issue.  Question is how long he can keep it up.



[Speaking of books, Journey Press now has three excellent titles for your reading pleasure! Why not pick up a copy or three? Not only will you enjoy them all — you'll be helping out the Journey!]




[September 8, 1965] Still a Stranger in a Strange Land (THE STRANGER SERIES 2, AUSTRALIAN TV SF)


by Kaye Dee

Back in April, I wrote about The Stranger, Australia’s first locally-produced science fiction television show. The second series completed its run on the Australian Broadcasting Commission (ABC) in late July, so this month I wanted to look at how the story of the Soshunites and their Earthly friends has played out across six new episodes.

The new series of The Stranger opens with the same credits sequence and eerie theme music, although the otherworldy script used for the title has been slightly modified for series two

The ABC Takes Another Chance

When the first series came to its dramatic conclusion, the Soshunites had been granted permission by the United Nations to leave Soshuniss, their moon-turned-spaceship, and settle on Earth. This could have been a suitably happy ending for the story. However, after taking an initial gamble with producing a children’s science fiction adventure for television, the ABC decided on a second bold step. The ratings success of The Stranger, and its popularity with adult audiences, encouraged the national broadcaster to refocus the new series towards an older age group, with a significantly larger budget and a prestigious family audience timeslot at 7.30pm on a Sunday night, making it Australia’s first locally-made prime-time science fiction series.

With Mr. G. K. Saunders again writing the script, all the original cast and production crew have returned for a story that is considerably more complex than the earlier series, involving international politics, intrigue and a ruthless business mogul planning to exploit the Soshunites’ arrival on Earth for his own profit.

Episode 1

Broadcast on Sunday 20 June, the opening episode of series two picks up immediately after the events at the end of the previous series: in fact, together the episodes could be considered a two-part story. The UN’s decision to allow the Soshunites to settle on Earth has been prematurely leaked to the press by a US Senator. Panic ensues, with newspaper headlines proclaiming that an alien invasion is imminent.

In Australia, Soshunite emissaries Adam Suisse (whose Soshunian name, we now know, is Sinsi) and Varossa await the return of Prof. Mayer, who has been acting on behalf of Soshuniss at the UN. Suddenly, the home of their hosts, the Walsh family, comes under siege by the press and television crews. Seeking to protect the aliens, Col. Nash, the Security chief, confines them in Adam’s former home on the grounds of St Michael’s School, with a police guard. While Nash has so far been friendly, his attitude begins to change when Adam, rankled by what he sees as imprisonment (he clearly doesn’t understand the persistence of newshounds!), informs him that there has been a change of leadership on Soshuniss.

In one of Mr, Saunders’ characteristics twists, the female Soshun, whose policy was that her people would only settle on Earth if invited, has been replaced by a new male leader. This new Soshun is determined to establish his people on Earth, and when Adam says he agrees with this policy, Nash begins to suspect that perhaps the Soshunites are not as peaceful as they have portrayed themselves up till now.

The hypnotic stare of a Soshunite pilot as he uses his mind-control abilities to kidnap Peter Cannon!

Meanwhile, Peter Cannon, one of the three teenage children who befriended Adam and the Soshunites in series one, secretly uses Adam’s space radio to contact Soshuniss, trying to advise the Soshun of the situation. Unaware of the change in leadership, when a Soshunian spacecraft arrives Peter approaches it. The pilot then induces him to board the ship using the Soshunites’ mind-control abilities…

Episode 2

In New York, Prof. Mayer receives a visit from Rudolph Lindenberger, the world’s richest man. (Imagine, he claims to be a billionaire! And even though a US billion is considerably less than a British billion-that’s still a fantastical amount of money to be anyone’s personal fortune). Lindenberger tries to persuade Mayer that, as an American, he must use his influence with the aliens to ensure that their scientific knowledge is handed over to the United States. Mayer believes that Lindenberger is a misguided patriot, but his son Edward smells a con and believes Lindenberger is looking to line his own pockets.

Arriving on Soshuniss, Peter is taken to the new Soshun and learns that the Soshunites are now desperate to land on Earth because their computers have determined that there is no other suitable planet that they can reach. The Soshun tells Peter that his people have a powerful weapon that will be used if they are not given permission to land. With Adam and Varossa still on Earth, Peter has been kidnapped to be held as a hostage to ensure their safety.

Lindenberger's aide, Blake, tries to pump Edward Mayer for information about the Soshunites as they fly to Australia

Once Mayer and his son, Edward, arrive in Australia, plans are made to move Adam and Varossa to the Parkes Radio Telescope, in country New South Wales, which will be turned into a space communications facility. Joining them, will be the Mayers and teenagers Bernie and Jean Walsh. Along with Peter, these are all the people who have been to Soshuniss. This will keep them safe from the reporters, but is there another motive?

Adam has now decided that he does not trust Nash. Using their mind-control powers, he and Varossa subdue their police guards and escape. Varossa is shot and captured by another police officer, but Adam jumps into Nash’s car and uses his hypnotic ability to make the driver obey his will.

Episode 3

Varossa is in hospital, recovering from his wounds, although Nash keeps this secret from Mayer and the Walshes. The Security chief discovers that no-one can remember anything after being under the Soshunites’ mind control, including Nash’s driver: Adam has disappeared, his whereabouts unknown. Nash proceeds with his plan to move everyone else to Parkes. Although they evade the pursuing newshounds, Lindenberg’s henchman, Blake, realises where they must be heading. Adam, too, is also travelling to the vicinity of Parkes.

The Parkes Radio Telescope is Australia's most significant scientific instrument and the largest fully-steerable radio telescope in the world. It features in the opening credits of both series of The Stranger and plays a prominent role in series two. A pity the Soshunites destroy it in Episode 5!

Visiting the General Manager of his Australian subsidiaries, Lindenberg reveals that his plan is to make sure that the Soshunites are settled somewhere under his control. He intends to exploit their advanced knowledge to generate huge profits for his businesses – “in the billions”! Edward Mayer was right to distrust his motives.

On Soshuniss, the Soshun decides to demonstrate the Soshunites’ advanced knowledge. Peter is placed under mind control and forced to write a letter to the Prime Minister of Australia. His arrival in Canberra from Soshuniss, it says, will be proof of the power of the Soshunites. Meanwhile, Nash and the others have now arrived at the radio telescope, which is searching the skies for signals from Soshuniss in orbit. As the episode ends, they think they have found it!

Searching for Soshuniss. Professor Mayer joins senior telescope operator Dr. Scott in the control room of the Parkes Radio Telescope

Episode 4

With Soshuniss located, Mayer learns that there is a plan to “fit Moon rockets [presumably American] with nuclear warheads” if no peaceful agreement can be reached with the Soshunites. Meanwhile, Jean has experienced a strange dream that Adam wants her to collect a letter from the post office in a village not far from Parkes. Convinced it is a telepathic message from the Soshunite, Jean escapes secretly from the living quarters at the radio telescope and retrieves the letter. Unfortunately, Lindenberg’s assistant, Blake, who has now arrived in Parkes, manages to tail Jean, and overhears when she calls the boys to tell them where Adam is hiding.

When the three teens reach his hideout, they realise that Nash has been less than truthful, as they know nothing about Varossa’s shooting when Adam enquires about him. Adam asks the youngsters to bring him his radio, which has been brought to the telescope’s lab for study, so that he can contact a Soshunian spacecraft. Blake has been eavesdropping and phones Lindenberg with the news. The ruthless businessman immediately flies to one of his company properties near Parkes.

Even though Adam hides in an old country showground, the persistent Blake manages to track him down

Mayer, as yet unaware there is a new, militaristic Soshun, tries to convince Nash that the Soshunites are completely peaceful. However, his arguments are destroyed when Peter is discovered in a deep coma, of a type unknown to Earthly medicine, in the private Members Courtyard at Parliament House. A threatening letter from the Soshun to the Prime Minister is clutched in his hand, delivering an ultimatum: Earth must allow the Soshunites to land, or they will use their weapon.

Meanwhile, Jean, Bernie and Edward take a risk and enlist Mayer’s help to retrieve Adam’s communication device. Mayer is shocked to learn that, as with the information about the new Soshun, Nash did not inform him that Varossa was shot and captured.

Episode 5

As Mayer attempts to obtain the Soshunian radio, one of Lindenberg’s henchmen tries to steal it at gunpoint from the radio telescope’s lab. In the ensuing confusion, Bernie manages to grab the device and races up the through the telescope building chased by Blake. Desperate to escape, he climbs up onto the telescope’s antenna and makes his way precariously across the dish surface, still pursued by Blake. Suddenly the antenna begins to tilt alarmingly, and they both begin to slide.

The radio telescope operators have realised Bernie is in danger and moved the antenna so that he can slide safely down the surface of the steeply tilting dish and leap off as its rim nears the ground. Blake on the other hand, is left clinging for his life on the elevated side of the antenna. Dr. Scott, the senior telescope operator, then sneaks down to the lab and coshes the gunman holding Mayer and the others at bay. The radio telescope personnel help Blake down from the dish, but he and the gunman escape. Like Mayer, Edward and Jean, Blake follows after Bernie, who is already on his way to Adam with the space radio. Meanwhile, Bernie and Jean’s father has arrived at the telescope, after hearing news of Peter’s mysterious appearance in Canberra.

Hanging on for dear life! Lindenberger's henchman, Blake, clings to the tilted dish of the Parkes radio telescope during his pursuit of Bernie. This scene was actually filmed on the telescope

Mayer tells Adam what has happened to Peter and the three teens are shocked at this ruthless move by the Soshun. Mayer also decides to divulge the secret information about the plans to attack Soshuniss with nuclear weapons. To persuade the Soshun that the scientific community and most people on Earth are of goodwill and would welcome the Soshunites, Mayer offers to travel to Soshuniss on the spacecraft that is coming to collect Adam, to act as a human shield for the Soshunites.

Blake secretly records this conversation. When Lindenburg hears it, fearing the collapse of his plans to exploit the Soshunites, he devises a new strategy. Blake will kidnap Adam and transport him to a private island owned by Lindenberg, off the east coast of Australia. It has facilities large enough to house the entire Soshunian population (numbering just 300). Adam will be persuaded to invite the Soshunites to settle there in secret, so that they will be safely away from Soshuniss if it is attacked – and completely under Lindenberg’s control.

As revenge against Mayer for not falling in originally with his plans, Lindenberg also decides to use Blake’s recording to convince Nash that the professor is a traitor who has betrayed the Earth’s defence plans.

Nash’s Security team, Blake and his henchman, Walsh and the Soshunian spacecraft all arrive at Adam’s hideout at the same time and chaos ensues. Blake kidnaps Adam, who escapes using his hypnotic powers. Nash shoots Mayer in the leg to stop him boarding the Soshunian spacecraft, which hastily departs without either Mayer or Adam.

Episode 6

The final episode of the series is action-packed! Thinking Adam safe, the youngsters have returned to the radio telescope, but Nash arrests Adam, Mayer and Walsh. As they stop at Lindenberg’s farm for medical assistance to the professor, it becomes clear that the Security chief no longer trusts the businessman and now suspects his motives. Mayer persuades Walsh to escape and make a dash to Canberra. He must convince the Prime Minister that the threat from the Soshun is real. If the Soshunites are refused permission to settle, they will crash their moon-ship into the Earth: this is their weapon! Since they will be condemned to a lingering death wandering in space if they cannot land, they have nothing to lose.

Nash takes Adam to the radio telescope, where Bernie, Jean and Edward are now also under house arrest. When Adam realises that the antenna is being used to track Soshuniss so that it can be targetted by the nuclear-armed rockets, he secretly radios the Soshun. High-powered signals from Soshuniss destroy the telescope’s control system, rendering it useless.

Following Walsh’s meeting with the Prime Minister and the destruction of the radio telescope, Nash, Adam and Mayer are summoned to a meeting in Canberra. Dr. Kamutsa, the UN Secretary General’s personal representative, has also arrived. The Prime Minister has astutely realised that the current situation with Soshuniss has arisen from confusion since the initial information leak. He wishes to send Dr. Kamutsa to Soshuniss to discuss a “peaceful and harmonious” resolution and indicates that he already has a search underway for an area in Australia where the Soshunites can settle. 

When Adam contacts the Soshun, the leader insists that Bernie, Jean and Edward, whom he trusts, be sent to Soshuniss as emissaries and hostages, to demonstrate the good faith of the Earth. It is eventually agreed that Dr. Kamutsa will accompany the children as an advisor and they are all transported to Soshuniss. 

Upon arrival, Jean uses a ploy to persuade the Soshun to send medical aid to Peter, who is still in hospital in a coma. The Soshunite leader agrees and negotiations begin. Meanwhile Lindenberger makes a final attempt to gain control of the Soshunites, by publicly offering his private island as their new home – to which he will have access as the owner. However, Mayer and the Prime Minister adroitly outmanoeuvre the businessman, who is trapped into donating his island freely to the Australian Government: it is then placed under UN administration as the Soshunites’ new home.

Welcome to Earth. The Lord Mayor of Sydney formally welcomes the Soshun and his entourage to the Earth and Australia in front of Sydney Town Hall

With a resolution to the Shonunite’s desire to settle on Earth, and Varossa and Peter now out of hospital, Mayer reveals to Adam that he deliberately overplayed the Soshunite threat to crash their world into the Earth: he knew that Earth’s gravity would actually break up the spaceship-moon before it could strike the planet. Adam confesses in turn that the Soshunite’s strategy was all a tremendous bluff. Not only did they know that Soshuniss would be unable to destroy the Earth, they were so lacking in power that they were, in fact, unable to break the spaceship-moon out of its orbit around the Earth. The Soshunites would have died in orbit if their gambit failed and they were prevented from settling on our planet.

The story ends with a grand civic reception at the Sydney Town Hall, in which the Soshun and his people are welcomed to the Earth and Australia. In the final scene, Adam and Varossa depart from the steps of the Town Hall in a small Soshunian spacecraft, flying across Sydney Harbour and out to sea – towards their new home….

A Successful Transition

To judge from its ratings and the generally positive response from the television critics, the ABC should be satisfied that its experiment in prime-time science fiction television has paid off. Certainly, my sister’s family were engrossed, and even though I detected a few holes in the plot and more than a few holes in the science, I give Mr. Saunders full credit for creating a complex, multi-faceted story that turned the children’s adventure of the first series into an exciting family thriller. The story built and maintained its tension and air of uncertainty well, especially with the mistrust created by the multiple twists of Mayer’s bluff and Soshunites’ desperate double bluff. It also included moments of wry Australian humour to appeal to adult audiences, with jibes at bureaucrats and politicians, the military mindset, big business and even our “great and powerful friend”, the United States.

War of the Worlds! The fear of an alien invasion that generates tension in series two of The Stranger is highlighted in this preview article in TV Times

This series’ switch from the juvenile to family/adult category certainly gave more scope for the storyline, enabling it to move beyond the purely Australian focus of series one, to a more international outlook. Particularly interesting is the inclusion of the character of Dr. Kumatsa, a black African diplomat (played by American Negro actor Mr. Ronne Arnold, who has recently decided to live in Australia) as a representation of the role that the newly independent nations of Africa may one day play in the world.

Location, Location, Location

The noticeably higher budget for the second series, enabled producer Mr. Storry Walton to indulge his love of location filming. The Canberra scenes were filmed in Parliament House itself. Prime Minister Menzies even gave his personal permission for the scenes involving the Australian Prime Minister (played with suitable gravitas by veteran Australian actor Chips Rafferty) to be filmed in the private Prime Ministerial offices. Similar official approval was granted for filming at the Sydney Town Hall, which required the construction of a mock-up Soshunian spacecraft at the top of the forecourt staircase, as part of excellent special effects sequences showing the arrival of the Soshun and departure of Adam and Varossa to inspect the Soshunites’ new home.

Flying saucer lands at Sydney Town Hall! The imposing entrance to this iconic Sydney building is transformed into a set for location filming in the final episode of The Stranger

Various other outdoor scenes were filmed around Sydney, the Blue Mountains and Parkes, but ironically, the situation with the Walsh home was reversed. Although the original scenes of Headmaster Walsh’s house in the first series were filmed at a private home, to minimise disruption to the generous owners the house was faithfully replicated in a studio for the remainder of series one and series two. 

The Commonwealth Scientific and Industrial Research Organisation (CSIRO) also gave unprecedented co-operation, presumably in return for the undoubted publicity it provides for the agency. The chase across the Parkes radio telescope in Episode 5 took place, not on a studio set, but on the telescope itself, which was manoeuvred as required for the filming. Actors playing the roles of telescope staff were even permitted to be filmed at the actual controls of the multi-million pound instrument. As with the first series, the CSIRO also provided general scientific advice to the production, which even found its way into some of the dialogue with reasonable accuracy.

The Future?

The sale of the first series to the BBC means that those of you in Britain should be seeing it within the next twelve months, and a sale of the series to the US is also nearing finalisation. While the second series has drawn the story of the Soshunites’ search for a new home to a satisfying conclusion, the ending still leaves open the possibility of a third series. It would be interesting to see how our alien friends cope with the challenges of living in, and adapting to, a new world. I guess only time will tell if the ABC decides to take on another challenge with science fiction television.






[August 26, 1965] Stag Party (September 1965 Analog)


by Gideon Marcus

Boys Only Club?

A very curious phenomenon has taken place over the last several years.  When I started writing the Journey, women were a rising force in professional science fiction. In 1959, three of the six "Best New Authors" were women (Rosel George Brown, Kit Reed, and Pauline Ashwell – all Journey favorites). About 10% of the stories (and 25% of what was worth reading) was produced by women. Both Amazing and Fantastic, two of the main science fiction monthly digests, were helmed by Cele Goldsmith.

Then…something happened. Over the last few years, the appearances of women in magazines has dwindled to a trickle. There are fewer appearing in novels, too (and since women tended to produce short fiction more often than long form, this change was particularly noticeable). As of this month, no single title across all of the published magazines was done under a sole female byline. Five of the last 45 novels this year were written by four women – two were by Andre Norton, who writes under a masculine byline.

Cele Goldsmith became Cele Lalli and left her editor position. This was probably not a result of her getting married but rather due to a change in her two magazines to a reprints-mostly format.

Though the loss of women in SF has not always hurt the quality of fiction produced, (indeed, this was one of the better months in a long time), I've no doubt that this development is bad for the genre in the long run. The fewer perspectives, the less diversity of viewpoints, the more our stories are going to fall into ruts. A wider pool of authors also creates better work as more talented folks get a chance to rise to the top. I don't know why the genre has become bereft of one half of the population, but I hope the situation changes soon.

Still Plugging Along

As I said, this month was, despite the alarming paucity of women SF contributors, surprisingly and refreshingly good. This month's Analog, so often a turgid relic, was a pleasant read from back to front. Let's take a look inside:


by Kelly Freas

Space Pioneer (Part 1 of 3), by Mack Reynolds


by Kelly Freas

A nameless fellow wangles passage on the s/s Titov, a future-day Mayflower carrying 2000 colonists to New Arizona.  His goal is not exploring a new world, however – it's the assassination of the last of the Peshkopi clan. the would-be killer having gotten a tip that Peshkopi was slated to make the interstellar jaunt on the old freighter.

Inadvertently taking on the role of Roger Bock, holder of one of the mission's ten financial shares, the assassin quickly finds himself embroiled in a growing conflict between the mistreated passengers, little more than chattel in the holds, and the comparatively pampered crew and shareholders.  By the end of Part One, the identity of the Peshkopi is yet unknown to "Bock", but it is strongly implicated that it is actually Cathy Bergman, the elected representative of the colonists.  Of course, by the end of the serial's installment, Bock has much bigger things to worry about than his initial mission…

Pioneer is typically competent Reynolds stuff, even though the milieu is more Leinsterian.  If I have any complaint, it's that the science fiction trappings are virtually nonexistent.  This could be a story set in the 18th Century.

That said, I do enjoy the rather unflattering portrayal of colonist (and presumably planetary) exploitation, and the inclusion of developed female characters is nice.  Reynolds is usually good about that.

Four stars thus far.

The Life of Your Time, by Michael Karageorge


by Kelly Freas

On sublight but relativistic trip to Tau Ceti, the starship Emissary makes a shocking discovery: while time dilation affects the crew, slowing down the passage of time for their physical bodies and for the ship's systems, their minds remain at the speed of their original reference point – Earth.  Thus, to them, their bodies increasingly become prisons as their minds experience minutes, ultimately hours, for every second their bodies sense.  It's a story of tragedy, discovery, and triumph.

And a very unusual one for Analog.  It reminds me a bit of Niven's Wrong Way Street, featuring a gender-balanced and ethnically mixed crew (though they are all explicitly and deliberately Americans).  I don't know who Michael Karageorge is, but he definitely hit a triple on his first outing (and I dug the brand new concept of the hydrogen ramscoop ship).

Four stars.

LUT the Giant Mover, by Lyle R. Hamilton

The nonfiction article is both interesting and disappointing.  You can't fault the subject matter, which is the new launch facilities at Cape Kennedy.  But like most articles in Analog, it suffers for lack of subheadings and a coherent narrative.

So, three stars.  At least it's not about dowsing!

Computers Don't Argue, by Gordon R. Dickson


by John Schoenherr

Here is a dark cautionary tale about relying too heavily on computers, in which a fellow is sent a reader's club book by mistake, and is ultimately arrested and executed when he refuses to pay for it.

I get what they're trying to say, but the story takes place next year and while there is merit to avoiding overreliance on automated systems, there are just too many places where human involvement in the system would have broken the digital positive feedback loop. I hope. On the other hand, who knows?

A low three stars.

Test in Orbit, by Ben Bova


by Kelly Freas

Better is this story of a near-future conflict in space: Chet Kinsman, a USAF Captain with a week left to his hitch, is tasked to fly into space on an X-20 derivative and inspect an unknown satellite suspected of being an orbital bomb.  A mortal combat ensues.

I enjoyed all of this piece except the ending, which was both a little maudlin and should have had some falling action after the reveal.  Still, I think Ben Bova is a promising author, and I look forward to more of his stuff.

Three stars.

Psi for Sale, by Walter Bupp


by Kelly Freas

We've seen a lot of installments in the story of "Lefty" Walter Bupp, a telekinetic doctor with the grammar of a mook.  This time, John Berryman (the author's real name) offers us a look at Bupp's prehistory as well as the early history of the organization created for the benefit of American psychics.

I like the series, and this one was probably my favorite installment.  Perhaps a little superfluous, but still welcome (and it was neat to see a piece from the perspective of Maragon, the "Grand Master" of the "Lodge").

4 stars.

Say It with Flowers, by Winston P. Sanders


by Kelly Freas

Last up, we get another piece set in a future history in which the asteroid belt has won independence from the Earth.  Written under Poul Anderson's throwaway pen name, these are usually dry, technical stories of lesser appeal. 

This time, we get a fairly compelling tale about a Lieutenant in the "asterix" space service who is apprehended by North American forces on a courier mission.  It turns out that the message he is transmitting is carried on his person in an unique (but utterly telegraphed and unsurprising) way.

I liked the piece fine enough, though this line irked:

"The revolutionaries were so short of manpower that quite a few women held high rank."

An omission of that line would have gone a long way.  I don't need the suggestion that women are only able to succeed when there ain't enough men to do the work – especially when it's obvious that women can do the work.

Anyway, three stars.

Y marks the spot


Note, for the first time, the lack of women in the Journey round-up image – this one is of an IBM demonstration in Ethiopia.

Distressing lack of women authors aside, this was a good month for science fiction in magazines.  Analog clocked in at a respectable 3.5 stars, ahead of Fantasy and Science Fiction (3.2, largely thanks to its opening novella) and IF (2.9, dragged down by the Doc Smith serial).

Finishing roughly equivalent were Fantastic (3.5), New Worlds (3.5), and Science Fantasy (3.4).  If we include New Writings in SF #5 (3.5), which is a quarterly in book form but feels like a magazine, that makes the numbers even better.

So a mixed pleasure this month.  Let's hope this trend of female non-production reverses itself soon and results in even better times to come!