Summary:
This issue is (based on my limited recent reading of the magazine) a better than usual example. Apart from striking and redesigned (retro) cover, there are two very good alternate world stories from Harry Turtledove (The Quest for the Great Gray Mossy, a dinosaur/Moby Dick mash-up) and Eric Choi (The Greatest Day, an alternate world take on the space shuttle Columbia disaster). There are also notable stories by Sean McMullen (lost medieval tech in London) and Matthew Claxton (time travel and dinosaur pets); and good work by Adam-Troy Castro & Jerry Oltion (a classic reprint), A. J. Ward (a promising debut), Gregor Hartman, and Richard A. Lovett.
There is the usual non-fiction, which includes a guest editorial by Stanley Schmidt that introduces the reprint and mentions the magazine’s 90^th year anniversary plans. There is also the 2019 Index and Analytical Laboratory ballot. [ISFDB]

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Other reviews:
Greg Hullender and Eric Wong, Rocket Stack Rank
Lähettänyt Tpi Klo, Tpi’s Reading Diary
John Loyd, There ain’t no such thing as a free lunch
Kevin P. Hallett, Tangent Online
Sam Tomaino, SFRevu
Various, Goodreads

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Fiction:
The Astronaut from Wyoming • reprint novella by Adam-Troy Castro & Jerry Oltion ∗∗∗
The Quest for the Great Gray Mossy • novelette by Harry Turtledove ∗∗∗∗
Wheel of Echoes • short story by Sean McMullen ∗∗∗+
Hive • short story by Jay Werkheiser ∗∗
The Greatest Day • short story by Eric Choi ∗∗∗∗
The Evolutionary Alice • short story by Rachel Rodman –
Bulkheads Make the Best Neighbors • short story by Ian Randal Strock –
Welcome to the New You: Terms and Conditions for the Icrispr Gene-Editing Kit • short story by Douglas F. Dluzen ∗∗
The Grass Bows Down, The Pilgrims Walk Lightly • short story by Izzy Wasserstein ∗∗
All the Turns of the Earth • short story by Matthew Claxton ∗∗∗+
One Lost Space Suit Way • short story by A. J. Ward ∗∗∗
Around a World in Ninety-Six Hours • short story by Wendy Nikel ∗
Bird of a Feather • short story by Gregor Hartmann ∗∗∗
Guns Don’t Kill • short story by Richard A. Lovett ∗∗∗
Q-Ship Militant • short story by Joel Richards ∗∗
The Shocking Truth about the Scientific Method That Privatized Schools Don’t Want You to Know
• novelette by Sarina Dorie ∗∗
Hubble Rising • novelette by C. Stuart Hardwick ∗∗

Non-fiction:
Cover • by Tomislav Tikulin
Interior artwork • by Kevin Speidell, Vincent Di Fate, Kurt Huggins
Guest Editorial: A Major Milestone and Places We’ve Been • by Stanley Schmidt
Making Waves: The Inventions of John W. Campbell • science essay by Alec Nevala-Lee & Edward M. Wysocki, Jr.
In Theory • poem by Rebecca Siegel
Saving Columbia: An In-Flight Options Assessment • science essay by Eric Choi
Ghost Transmission • poem by Robert Frazier
The Alternate View • science essay by John G. Cramer
In Times to Come
The Reference Library • book reviews by Don Sakers
Brass Tacks • letters
The 2019 Index
Analytical Laboratory Ballot
Upcoming Events • by Anthony R. Lewis

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I don’t normally begin these reviews by discussing the Cover but in this case it is justified as, for their 90^th anniversary year, Analog is using “retro” cover designs.¹ This gives us the excellent result above, which not only sports a great piece of artwork by Tomislav Tikulin (you can’t beat dinosaurs as sailors/pirates), but also a design that addresses a persistent criticism I have, i.e. that the cover art is defaced by the story titles and the names of the authors. If I have one minor criticism it is that the “g” of the Analog and the top of the Turtledove story title crowd the artwork—why can’t they nudge the text in the top and bottom blocks up and down?² Still, an A cover if not an A+ one.

The fiction leads off with another anniversary year feature, a classic reprint. This issue’s choice, The Astronaut from Wyoming by Adam-Troy Castro & Jerry Oltion (Analog, July-August 1999), is introduced by ex-editor Stanley Schmidt in Guest Editorial: A Major Milestone and Places We’ve Been. He discusses the magazine’s anniversary year plans before discussing the story:

“The Astronaut from Wyoming” grabbed me as soon as I started reading it, and I knew I’d found something very special. I remember telling myself, and later my wife and colleagues at Analog, “You’ll be seeing this one on the award ballots.” I said it not as a speculation, but as a mere statement of fact—and I was right, even more right than I realized at the time.
For starters, as you well know, Analog has its own awards: the annual readers’ poll called The Analytical Laboratory (or AnLab). “Astronaut” not only placed first in the novella category for 1999, but did so with the highest score, and the biggest lead over its competition, of any story I can remember during my tenure.³  p. 4

The Astronaut from Wyoming tells the story of Alexander, a baby boy born with Drier’s Syndrome:

Alexander wasn’t deformed, at least, not in the sense that I’m deformed. He had two of everything he needed two of and one of everything he needed one of. And it was all functional. It all worked. He was even beautiful, in the sense that all healthy babies are beautiful. But his head was unusually large: it mushroomed above the temples, bulging up and out like a sack stuffed with more than it was designed to hold. (The doctors had feared water on the brain, but it just happened to be the shape of the kid’s head; the only problem it caused was in delivery, and that had been handled by the cesarean.) His eyes were about three times larger, proportionally, than the norm for a baby of that size; and they were all black, with no whites showing at all. His nose, as if to compensate, was unusually small, little more than a nostrilled wrinkle in the center of his face. His mouth was a slit with thin, pursed lips. His ears were little round buds with holes.
[. . .]
It was, in short, the face of a Roswell Alien.  pp. 9-10

Of course the media go nuts, and then the lunatic fringe of the public arrive in droves at the family’s house, all of which causes problems for them. At one point the husband considers taking National Enquirer money, exchanging a story where he and his wife ‘admit’ their son is a creature from outer space for the money needed to improve their security, but she refuses.
The next part of the story charts Alexander’s childhood, which involves, among other things: watching TV and seeing Saudi astronauts on the Moon destroying the profane equipment left by previous US and Japanese missions; his father struggling to cope with the media pressure and eventually leaving; his schooldays; and a trip to Washington where he is finally interviewed by the media. The remainder of the story’s narrative arc is set up by his statement that that he wants to be an astronaut—not “the boy from space”, but “the astronaut from Wyoming”.
In the next part of the story he meets the (until then, off-stage) narrator, Colin Forsyth, a bed-bound teenage genius with muscular dystrophy (there is an explicit nod to Heinlein and Waldo). Forsyth starts mentoring Alexander to help him gain a place in the Mars mission (as well as obliquely helping out with other matters, such as his love life).
The final section details Alexander’s eventual recruitment to the Mars mission (through an unlikely equal opportunities program), the politics of his selection (aided by a contrived car accident involving one of the initial crewmembers), and (spoiler) the tragic outcome of his flight to Mars.
I can see why the story was so popular at the time, and how it was a finalist in several awards, but I found it much more of a mixed bag (and understand why, as mentioned in the afterword by the writers, Scott Edelman of SF Age rejected it). The good parts are the childhood scenes, some technically interesting passages, and that Alexander finally achieves his destiny. The parts I liked less include the near constant moan throughout the story about the tabloid media, and their horoscope and alien-obsessed readership (this is almost hectoring in places). Apart from giving the impression that all news media are like this, it seems a bit dated now (mostly because this kind of nonsense is now on the internet). Paradoxically, it also has a contemporary tone (‘Why, oh why, isn’t the world and its history the way I want it?’). The writers also grind their axes about Saudi Arabia in a couple of places, and about manifest destiny (I’m guessing, I forget) in Alexander’s final speech. More of a problem than this are the already mentioned plot twists.
Overall I liked this, but not as much as some.
A story that I did like a lot is The Quest for the Great Gray Mossy by Harry Turtledove. If you want a one line description of this, I’d say, ‘alternate-world dinosaurs do Moby Dick’. That is probably all the description that this review needs but for those who, like me, have not read the novel, the story tells of the dinosaur narrator’s (“Call me Milvil”) journey to Faraway town, where he joins a ship called Queepahd. He then meets the charismatic skipper, and learns of his obsessional quest for the eponymous whale. A previous encounter did not end well:

[The captain turned] to survey me. As he moved, his tail scraped against the deck beneath it. This tail was made from highly polished mossy bone, and attached to the stump of his gods-given appendage by a cunning arrangement of drosaw-leather straps. It was, I suppose, better than no tail at all, but not nearly so good as the one of which he’d been robbed by some catastrophe, I knew not what. That artificial tail was the most remarkable thing about him, but not by any great stretch.
He was the most weathered old salt I’d ever seen; his green-scaled hide was nearly as leathery as the straps sustaining his tail. Even his feathers were sad and draggled, showing the effect of sun and rain and storm. A great scar seamed his jaw and just missed his left eye.
That and its corresponder on the other side were two of the piercingest I’d ever encountered.⁴ Not to put too fine a point on it, at first glance he terrified me, a sentiment that increased on further acquaintance rather than dissipating.  p. 55

Later on in the voyage, the depths of his obsession become clear:

Captain Baja had not yet finished. He took from a pouch on his belt another goldpiece, a great fat lump of the precious metal, all stamped to perfection and worth ten times the first one; worth, to be honest, many times the concatenated wealth of most of the crewfolk.
“By the gods and by the Great Egg from which the world hatched at the beginning of days, my rogues, do ye see this?” Baja cried.
For a moment, a moment that stretched and stretched, he got no response at all. Staring at so grand and gaudy a goldpiece paralyzed us all, as the sea serpent’s venom is said to paralyze whatever it bites, leaving the victim ready to be engulfed. But then we all hissed and snarled as if we were so many middle raptors, not properly men at all. What a hornface’s meaty carcass might do for hungry animals, gold does for—or, I might say, does to—hungry people.
“This,” Baja said, “this to the huzzard-eyed rogue who spots for me the Great Gray Mossy, to be paid after we lower and harpoon and try the monster!” He nailed the second coin to the mast, well above the first. With a fierce laugh, he added, “I’ve spiked it well, I have. No thief will walk off with it in the middle of the night! “
I would not have wanted to try that, not when it ran the risk of having the skipper—who seemed to sleep very little—catch me in the act. What would he do to me, or to any other foolish, luckless would-be thief? If he only fed the miscreant to the ever-hungry sharks, the fellow might well count himself lucky.  p. 59

I liked this story for its its vivid description and antiquated language, the waspish asides about mammals (“Like ticks and mosquitos, mammals are an unfortunate part of life”), and for its sheer readability. One for my hypothetical ‘Best of the Year’ collection.

Wheel of Echoes by Sean McMullen starts with its voice-actress narrator arriving at a recording company in London, where she meets another invitee, a pompous professor of Shakespearian English. An executive called Elliot greets them, and then takes the pair to listen to, and comment on, several voice recordings:

Elliot [asked,] “What did you make of that fifth actor? Kirsty?”
“From his accent, American. Loads of hiss and crackle, so it was recorded a long time ago.”
“Professor?”
“American, backwoods northeast coast, and recorded in the 1920s. The accents of that region were an acoustic time capsule from seventeenth-century England. “
“Actually, the recording was made in London. Would you like to try again?”
“Maybe Welsh?” I replied.
“London?” said Wilson, frowning. “Probably someone who heard the 1920s recordings from the Appalachian Mountains and was using that accent to do a lash-up of a seventeenth-century English accent. Of course for Shakespeare it doesn’t work. “
“Why not?”
“Listen to Cumberbatch performing Hamlet, then go down to the corner pub and chat to one of the locals. Both are from twenty-first-century London, but they speak quite differently. The Appalachian recordings were of farmers and hunters, not Shakespeare’s actors.”
Have you ever met one of those people who gets his opinion accepted by sheer bluster? When Wilson gave an opinion, he left no room for doubt. Pompous git, I thought. Hope you just screwed up totally.
“Good point,” said Elliot.  p. 74

Elliot then shows them a large clay wheel, and explains that it is a primitive recording device which has been recently unearthed. After a demonstration of machine, which plays a primitive recording, Elliot gives them the startling information (spoiler) that the voice is Shakespeare’s. The professor does not respond well to this as it upends his beliefs.
After this climactic scene, the rest of the story is essentially an extended data dump explaining the details behind what has gone before.
Notwithstanding the story’s slightly odd (early climax) structure, I thought this was a pretty good story, especially if you are interested in stories about lost knowledge. The London setting was a bonus.

Hive by Jay Werkheiser has a three-person Earth team observing aliens on another planet: the insect-like creatures live in hives and use pheromones to communicate, and the story concerns their reactions to the human vehicle that houses the researchers. While this is intellectually interesting for the most part, I’m not clear about what happened in the final scene where (spoiler) the aliens attack the human vehicle.
I’d also point out that the strangled scientific prose doesn’t add to the story’s clarity:

Crawler pheromone trails continue bringing detail from upfield. The markers defining the new body forms suddenly disappear from the information trails. Talkers search the trails closely for more detail. Nest marker pheromones, but appended with a propyl group indicating motion across field lines. Chirality of the propyl branch point indicates motion rotationward.
A moving nest? Could the new body forms be part of a hive? Excitory pheromones roil in the nest’s air. The surge drops off rapidly as directors one by one reach the same conclusion. Inhibitory pheromones dominate, mixed with comm markers, a reminder of the body forms’ lack of identifiable pheromones. How would it self-organize? How would it communicate with other hives? No, these are simply things, predators or prey.  p. 84

Good idea and background, but an awkwardly told story.
The Greatest Day by Eric Choi⁵ is another alternate world story, this time about the space shuttle Columbia which, in our world, suffered wing damage on launch and broke up on re-entry. In this story’s time-line the operations personnel discover the damage and the narrative arc then works through some intriguing NASA politics, a planned rescue mission with a second shuttle, and (spoiler), when that fails, a bodged repair and attempt at re-entry:

Aboard Columbia
“Altitude 43,000 feet, speed 806 miles per hour,” Willie McCool called out.
Laurel Clark turned and saw blinking redand-white aircraft lights out the left-side window, just past Kalpana Chawla’s helmet.
“Houston, Columbia,”Ben Hernandez radioed. “It looks like we have company.”
“Roger, Columbia,” said Stephanie Wilson. “That would be Mike Bloomfield. He promised to come for you, and here he is.”
.
Mission Control Houston
A new window appeared on the screen, showing the feed from a night-vision camera aboard the T-38 chase plane flown by astronaut Mike Bloomfield. Columbia appeared as a ghostly image in shades of green against a black sky with greenish-white speckles of stars.
Audible gasps went through the room.
Some of the flight controllers stood front their consoles like an honor guard.
The hole in Columbia’s left wing was now an obsidian gash. There were black streaks over the wing and along the fuselage, and dark splatters on the left engine pod and tail—cooled residue of molten metal. The rudder and elevon were deflected, physical manifestation of the flight control system struggling to keep the ship steady.
A chill went down Wayne Hale’s spine. Columbia was mortally wounded, but she was still alive, still fighting to bring her crew home. She was simply a beautiful, magnificent, heroic flying machine.
“Don’t do it.”
Hale blinked. Had he said something aloud?
“Don’t anthropomorphize the vehicle,” said Joyce Seriale-Grush. “She doesn’t like it.”  pp. 99-100

The lean techno-thriller style used here makes this piece the polar opposite of the many bloated and navel-gazing works currently produced (and about which I regularly complain). That said, this story perhaps goes a little too far in the opposite direction (and the footnotes to the story state it is an abridged version of a much longer piece).⁶
If you like the movies Apollo 13, Gravity, or The Martian, then this will be right up your street. It is a very well done and would be in my ‘Year’s Best’.
The Evolutionary Alice by Rachel Rodman is a ‘Probability Zero’ mashup of Alice in Wonderland and evolutionary theory. Alice falls out with the Queen (an advocate of intelligent design), and the story finishes (spoiler) with Alice waking up and finding it was all a dream. Pah.
Bulkheads Make the Best Neighbors by Ian Randal Strock has two characters in orbit having a conversation about smashing up asteroids to form a barrier between them and the irritating groundhogs. Apart from the fact they sound like rednecks in space, this is a notion, not a story. Double pah.
Welcome to the New You: Terms and Conditions for the Icrispr Gene-Editing Kit by Douglas F. Dluzen uses various T&C’s to show us a world of gene-editing at home. Okay, I guess.

The Grass Bows Down, The Pilgrims Walk Lightly by Izzy Wasserstein has two narrative threads: the first is a moderately interesting one that has a biologist called Erika negotiating with the representative of an advanced alien species. If she can work out why the grass on the alien planet lies down in front of them as they walk towards it, the aliens will share their advanced tech. The second thread contains the now seemingly obligatory relationship/angst material about Erika’s failed relationship: they separated because she wanted to stay on Earth to reintroduce dolphins while her partner wanted to explore the Galaxy. There is also some unnecessary interstitial material—short, portentous passages of Norse myth. I was not surprised to find out from the author notes that the writer teaches writing and literature at university.

All the Turns of the Earth by Matthew Claxton starts with a young boy who is temporally displaced to prehistoric times. He learns to survive there, and eventually seeks refuge on an island. Then one day a herd of pterosaurs fly in and nest there. The young boy steals an egg and it later hatches . . . .
The second half of the story has quite a lot going on (spoiler: he is catapulted forward through time before returning years later), and some readers may struggle with a suspension of disbelief. Personally, I liked this piece, and found it an engaging tale that packs a lot of event and wonder into its short space.

One Lost Space Suit Way by A. J. Ward is about an autonomous spacesuit on an alien planet that escapes from its owner rather than go to the scrap dealer. Over the subsequent decades the suit wanders all over this world (which the settlers are terraforming), and we learn of its many adventures and experiences. During its journey animals start to use it as a home:

Once charged, I left the lumber station. I headed up the foothills into the new growth that didn’t interest the loggers. Earth plants grew here and there: graceful Frangipanis and strangling Bougainvillea amongst native nymphtrees. After several weeks I found a cat! I knew about them from back in the mines, where they watched the miners at work from the dormitory windows. The cat was black and red, and not all the red was from its fur. I opened my helmet and swallowed her up, warming my interior and providing water and air. The cat thrived and was soon joined by five kittens. During the day, she would haul the kittens by the nape of their neck to watch the forest go by from my helmet. At night, they scratched at my visor to be let out. Mother would go out and teach them to hunt, returning with red and blue stained mouths and paws, often leaving some viscera or head at my boots as an offering.  p. 135

At the end of its design life the suit returns home, and finds a “Lost” sign put up decades previously by the original owner. It eventually finds one of his descendants, and the story comes to an elegaic end.⁷
This is an interesting and quirky debut that probably shouldn’t work but does. I enjoyed it.
Around a World in Ninety-Six Hours by Wendy Nikel tells of an interplanetary circumnavigation race between a sister in a Venusian research balloon her brother in a high speed rover on Mars. The brother has a minor mishap that damages the rover’s gps, and then cannot be contacted.
The resolution (spoiler) revolves around the comm link that they use (apparently established just for them) and the fact that both of them know Morse code. This is well enough told but it just doesn’t suspend belief (apart from the personal comm link, the idea of the brother driving like a maniac on Mars doesn’t wash). You can also see the end coming a mile off.
Bird of a Feather by Gregor Hartmann is a partly tongue-in-cheek, partly gonzo-ish story of an astronomer whose revolutionary astronomical telescope (lasers and glitter) is sidelined by his boss so as not to upset the progress of a more expensive project. Matters look as if they are going to take a turn for the worse when the astronomer goes home to find his footloose twin brother has unexpectedly arrived:

“Yo, Frankie, long time no see.”
Rivo, his older brother, last reported adrift in Southeast Asia, had set up camp in the living room. A backpack the size of a washing machine threatened one wall. Pale purple smoke rose from a long bamboo pipe that jutted from the corner of Rivo’s mouth like a smoldering fuse.
Frank ducked under a parachute cord slung from window to bookcase. He squeezed between two flower-print sarongs and slammed his briefcase on the coffee table. “How’d you get in here?”
“It’s only four stories up. Easy peasy free climb. You really should lock your windows. Say hi to my fans.”
He was wearing a headband with a tiny camera like a high-tech miner’s lamp. Rivo said, “Camera start recording,” and a red light lit.
“Peeps! Meet Frank, my kid brother, who emerged from the same maternal womb six minutes later, after I told him it was safe to come out. Dr. Frank is a brainiac space scientist here in La La Land. He’s invented a humongo cosmic kaleidoscope, the better to spy on the Universe.”
“Knock it off,” Frank snarled. “I’m not in the mood.  p. 146

The rest of this entertaining tale tells how the visiting brother helps, with the aid of his posse, to get his brother’s telescope into orbit.
Guns Don’t Kill by Richard A. Lovett has AI meeting gun control in three short vignettes of near future armed encounters (hunting and police situations). It is wrapped up by (spoiler) two AIs discussing how to go forward with their different agendas. This is a slight piece but has a neat idea, and you could view this story as the first step on the road to the weapons in A. E. van Vogt’s ‘Weapon Shop’ series (which only work in self-defence).
Q-Ship Militant by Joel Richards tells of a sentient spaceship called Militant acting as a decoy to lure slavers. The narrative alternates between the ship’s point-of-view and that of Calderon, a human mercenary who works for it. Although this gets off to quite a good start, the ending, where they (spoiler) engage in space combat with a slaver and its two prize ships, is routine.
The Shocking Truth About the Scientific Method That Privatized Schools Don’t Want You to Know by Sarina Dorie has an awful title but is, I guess, an okay semi-satire about the travails of Ms Torres, a science teacher in a future education system where sponsors determine what is taught. Torres responds by using a lunchtime science club to teach the children proper science, and the story is about her subsequent problems with the pupils and the system.
The weak twist at the end, when she finally gives up and transfers to another school, is that it is (spoiler) funded by various crank organisations. This all seems a little far-fetched, although this perhaps easier to say from a European perspective than an American one.
I note in passing that the story does the same moaning-about-human-idiocy thing as The Astronaut from Wyoming.
Hubble Rising by C. Stuart Hardwick is another story set in the near future, and this time concerns a private space crew attempting a repair on the Hubble telescope. There are various problems for them to overcome before they can dock with the Hubble, not least its odd wobbling motion. When Kylie, a female astronaut, finally gets onboard, a previous rocket drone attached to the Hubble fires and pushes her and the telescope away from her ship.
The rest of the story is about how she saves herself, which is partly a hardware thing, and partly about her fear of heights. This unlikely phobia mars the story, as does the recounted childhood trauma that caused it (the characterisation in the story comprises this and selections from a music playlist that she plays throughout).⁸ Okay I suppose, just Analog-formulaic.

I’ve already mentioned the Cover above, but there are a number of pieces of Interior artwork by Kevin Speidell, Vincent Di Fate, and Kurt Huggins. I sometimes wonder why they bother with these little spot illustrations (I think they are larger and more impressive in the print edition than the ones I see on my Kindle iPad app), but I liked the Kurt Huggins one for A. J. Ward’s story.
There are three science articles, the first of which is Making Waves: The Inventions of John W. Campbell by Alec Nevala-Lee & Edward M. Wysocki, Jr. This examines Campbell’s sideline as a hobbyist inventor, and includes boring explanations about the operation of a couple of devices (one was patented, and looks related to John R. Pierce’s article in the Feb 1944 Astounding—well, it looks like it’s made from valve amplifiers, anyway).
At the end of the article we come to the nub of the matter:

Campbell never ceased to hope that a great discovery would emerge from the magazine, and this impulse—which had led him to support dianetics, L. Ron Hubbard’s “modern science of mental health,” which survives today as the Church of Scientology—contributed to his almost messianic sense of mission. He badly wanted to come up with an invention that would make him rich, not just for the obvious financial rewards, but for the legitimacy that it would confer on both him and the genre. He once wrote to his sister, “The larger-scale crackpot has to be a millionaire to be a genius, and I’ll be a millionaire.”
The reference to the “crackpot” was especially revealing. Campbell embraced a vision of scientific discovery that was produced by outsiders, as embodied by the tinkerer in his workshop, much like the heroes of his early superscience stories. For most of his life, he described himself proudly as an amateur, which led him to champion fringe beliefs while remaining out of step with the some of the most important research of his time. Campbell enjoyed visiting labs and universities, but he was too independent to participate seriously in the collective efforts—exemplified by the Manhattan Project and the space program—required to meet challenges that were too complex for any one individual. Science fiction had dreamed for decades about atomic power and the Moon landing, but when those goals were fulfilled at last, they arose from the contributions of thousands of professionals, not a few lone geniuses.
In the end, Campbell was left behind by the changing nature of scientific research. He clung throughout his life to an anachronistic notion of the heroic engineer and inventor—which, paradoxically, turned out to be one of his most significant contributions to the culture of the twentieth century. The competent man of science fiction was an unapproachable ideal, but it encouraged countless readers to enter engineering and the sciences, becoming part of the vast communal enterprise in which Campbell himself was never at home. Without the romantic vision of discovery that he presented, however, these fans might never have decided to devote their lives to science. Its values may have prevented Campbell from becoming the inventor he wanted to be, but the community that he created instead turned out to be his one great invention.  p. 50

It’s worth reading the article as context for this last passage.
Saving Columbia: An In-Flight Options Assessment by Eric Choi is an interesting follow up essay to The Greatest Day, the author’s story in this issue. It is an account of the Columbia space shuttle accident and the findings of the subsequent inquiry (this includes material about the options covered in the story). It ends with this:

[The] conclusion of “The Greatest Day” is absolutely the most optimistic possible outcome of the repair scenario. That is a rather sobering thought.  p. 107

The Alternate View by John G. Cramer is a short column about the irreconcilability of quantum theory and general relativity that mostly went over my head (my physical science degree’s quantum theory semester was a long, long time ago) but the conclusion is clear enough:

Contemporary theoretical physics finds itself in a difficult situation: it has become clear that the workhorse theories of QED and QFT, pillars of the Standard Model of Particle Physics, are fundamentally flawed, in some cases give ridiculously wrong predictions, and are in urgent need of replacement. However, no such replacement is on the horizon. New approaches are badly needed.  p. 118

The Reference Library by Don Sakers starts with a short introduction about the lack of empathy in SF, especially in war/conflict fiction, before reviewing four books that could be unsympathetically described as ‘space opera/SF combat filler’ (they seem mostly about humans fighting aliens, or each other, in space). My eyes started glazing over midway through the third review.
Fortunately, there are also four anthology reviews of more interest.⁹
Brass Tacks has three letters, one of which defends John W. Campbell against inappropriate comments made by Jeanette Ng at last year’s Worldcon Hugo Award ceremony.
There are two poems in this issue (neither of which did anything for me), In Theory by Rebecca Siegel and Ghost Transmission by Robert Frazier, and the usual departments, In Times to Come, and Upcoming Events by Anthony R. Lewis.
As it is the first issue of the year there is also The 2019 Index, and the Analytical Laboratory Ballot.

In conclusion, this issue is the usual wild mix of quality that I’ve grown to expect from Analog, from material that is very good to work (almost always at shorter lengths) that is just terrible. This time around there is a lot more good work than bad, and this issue is perhaps the best of the half dozen or so I’ve read over the last few years.

PS As you can see at the top of the page, I’ve decided to start adding a summary. This is not only for another type of post I intend doing, but also because it occurred to me that maybe not everyone wants to read five thousand word reviews about a single issue of a magazine (I’m not sure I’d want to myself).  ●

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1. Whether they will use the design above on all of this year’s Analog covers (I hope so) or whether they will use a variety (more likely) remains to be seen. This one hails from the early 1960s:

If they cycle through all the cover designs, then we can probably expect something like this for the next issue:

2. Let the cover art breathe (LHS original/RHS edit):

3. Although The Astronaut from Wyoming won that year’s Analytical Laboratory Best Novella category it didn’t do quite so well elsewhere. Its other award wins and nominations are listed on the story’s ISFDB page.

4. Harry Turtledove’s phrase “[they] were two of the piercingest I’d ever encountered” is not the most elegant I’ve encountered.

5. Another 90^th anniversary innovation is the production of a podcast: Eric Choi’s The Greatest Day is here.

6. Eric Choi kindly provided (email, December 2019) this background information about The Greatest Day:

The story is adapted from a novelette called “A Sky and a Heaven” that was written for an anthology called Other Covenants: Alternate Histories of the Jewish People edited by Andrea Lobel and Mark Shainblum. There are two main differences between the versions for Analog and Other Covenants. First, the anthology version is very much centered on Israeli astronaut Ilan Ramon, who in my alternate history is shot down during the 1981 Israeli air strike against the Osirak nuclear reactor in Iraq and ends up years later in America as the lead NASA flight controller for the ill-fated Columbia mission (instead of Wayne Hale in the Analog story). The second significant thread in the anthology version concerns an Israeli scientist and Holocaust survivor named Joachim Joseph, who as a child at Bergen-Belsen was given a secret bar mitzvah ceremony and entrusted with a miniature Torah scroll that decades later flew aboard Columbia with Ilan Ramon (or in my story, the fictional Israeli astronaut Yael Dahan). So, the Analog short story is essentially a standalone adaptation of the engineering elements of the novelette.

7. If you like autonomous spacesuit stories I recommend Iain M. Banks Descendant (Tales from the Forbidden Planet, Titan, 1987).

8. If you use music playlists to characterise the people in your story, can I suggest that you don’t pick One Way or Another by Blondie (a sixty-year-old man’s choice) for a young, female, future astronaut.

9. Sakers’ comment about the anthology Footprints in the Stars’ striking cover made me track it down on Amazon:

This is a much cleaner cover layout than you normally get from US books, and is closer to UK design. I like it. Yes, I am aware of the irony of this given my comments about type defacing cover artwork.
I ended up buying the first book in this anthology series (another striking cover):

If We Had Known, edited by Mike McPhail (eSpec Books, 2017) is available on Amazon UK/ USA.  ●

Edited 10th July 2021: minor text edits.