{"id":10295,"date":"2019-05-14T21:28:25","date_gmt":"2019-05-14T21:28:25","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/sfmagazines.com\/?p=10295"},"modified":"2019-05-20T15:01:44","modified_gmt":"2019-05-20T15:01:44","slug":"astounding-science-fiction-v32n03-november-1943","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/sfmagazines.com\/?p=10295","title":{"rendered":"Astounding Science-Fiction v32n03, November 1943"},"content":{"rendered":"

\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n

ISFDB link<\/a>
\nArchive.org link<\/a><\/p>\n

Other reviews:1<\/sup>
\nAlva Rogers, A Requiem for Astounding \u00a0p. 126-127<\/a><\/em><\/p>\n

_____________________<\/p>\n

Editor, John W. Campbell Jr.; Assistant Editor, Catherine Tarrant<\/p>\n

Fiction:
\nRecoil <\/em><\/strong>\u2022 novelette by George O. Smith \u2217\u2217<\/strong>
\nDeath Sentence<\/em><\/strong> \u2022 short story by Isaac Asimov \u2217<\/strong>
\nThe Beast<\/em><\/strong> \u2022 novelette by A. E. van Vogt \u2217<\/strong>\u2217<\/strong>\u2217<\/strong>
\nGallegher Plus<\/em><\/strong> \u2022 novelette by Henry Kuttner [as by Lewis Padgett] \u2217<\/strong>\u2217<\/strong>\u2217<\/strong>
\n\u201c… If You Can Get It\u201d<\/em><\/strong> \u2022 short story by Murray Leinster \u2217<\/strong><\/p>\n

Non-fiction:
\nCover <\/em><\/strong>\u2022 by William Timmins
\nInterior artwork<\/em><\/strong> \u2022 by Paul Orban (x9), Elton Fax (x2), Alfred (x3)
\nArithmetic and Empire<\/em><\/strong> \u2022 by John W. Campbell, Jr.
\nThe Analytical Laboratory: September 1943<\/em><\/strong>
\nIn Times to Come
\n\u201cThose Giant Tubes …\u201d <\/em><\/strong>\u2022 science photos
\n\u201cTurn On the Moon\u2014Make It Hotter!\u201d <\/em><\/strong>\u2022 science essay by R. S. Richardson
\nKeep \u2019Em Under <\/em><\/strong>\u2022 science essay by Malcolm Jameson
\nBrass Tacks<\/em><\/strong> \u2022 letters<\/p>\n

_____________________<\/p>\n

In 1943 Astounding<\/em> went through two format changes because of wartime restrictions, changing from a large bedsheet magazine to the smaller pulp size in May, and shrinking further to digest size now. The magazine also drops all advertising with this issue.<\/p>\n

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The fiction leads off with Recoil <\/em><\/strong>by George O. Smith, the third of his \u2018Venus Equilateral\u2019 series about a future space station cum communications hub. The opening establishes that Channing, the station director, is on honeymoon, and Walter Franks is in charge:<\/p>\n

Walter Franks sat in the director\u2019s office; his feet on the director\u2019s desk. He was smoking one of the director\u2019s cigarettes. He was drinking the director\u2019s liquor, filched shamelessly from the director\u2019s private filing cabinet where it reposed in the drawer marked \u201cS.\u201d Drawer \u201cB\u201d would have given beer, but Walt preferred Scotch.
\nHe leaned forward and tossed the director\u2019s cigarette into the director\u2019s wastebasket and then he pressed the button on the desk and looked up.
\nBut it was not the director\u2019s secretary who entered. It was his own, but that did not disturb Franks. He knew that the director\u2019s secretary was off on Mars enjoying a honeymoon with the director.
\nJeanne entered and smiled. \u201cMust you call me in here to witness you wasting the company\u2019s time?\u201d she asked in mock anger.
\n\u201cNow look, Jeanne, this is what Channing does.\u201d
\n\u201cNo dice. You can\u2019t behave as Don Channing behaves. The reason is my husband.\u201d
\n\u201cI didn\u2019t call to have you sit on my lap. I want to know if the mail is in.\u201d
\n\u201cI thought so,\u201d she said. \u201cAnd so I brought it in with me. Anything more?\u201d
\n\u201cNot until you get a divorce,\u201d laughed Franks.
\n\u201cYou should live so long,\u201d she said with a smile. She stuck her tongue out at him.
\nWalt thumbed his way through the mail, making notations on some, and setting others aside for closer reading. He came to one and tossed it across the desk at Jeanne.
\nShe took the message and read:
\n.<\/span>
\nDear Acting Director:
\nHaving a wonderful honeymoon; glad you aren\u2019t here!
\nDon and Arden.
\n.<\/span>
\n\u201cWonderful stuff, love,\u201d smiled Franks.
\n\u201cIt is,\u201d agreed Jeanne. A dreamy look came into her eyes.
\n\u201cScram, Jeanne. There are times when you can\u2019t work worth a damn. Usually when you\u2019re thinking of that \u00a0husband of yours. What\u2019s he got that I haven\u2019t?\u201d
\n\u201cMe,\u201d said Jeanne slyly. She arose and started for the door.\u00a0 p. 5-6<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

One would hope that she goes straight to HR to file a sexual harassment complaint, but what actually happens is that she stays to listen to a data dump lecture. Franks is developing an electron gun to be fitted to spaceships, to move obstructions out of their path (the station struggles to maintain contact with the ships when they manoeuvre rapidly to avoid meteorites, etc.).
\nA later first test is unsuccessful, even when they use the full power of the station on a passing meteor.<\/p>\n

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The story then cuts to Channing (the director) and Arden, who are on their honeymoon, and where a reporter interrupts them with a question about a missing spaceship. After some (unconvincing) hand-wavium from Channing, he tells the reporter that piracy is the most likely cause. Sure enough, as the couple go the spaceport to talk to its boss, a ransom demand arrives, and the couple leave immediately for Venus Equilateral. After a long flight they have to take evasive action to avoid pirates\u2014who have recently surrounded the station\u2014before making a rough landing.
\nThe rest of the story is about how the Venus Equilateral team (spoiler) sort out the technical problems with the gun and defeat the space pirates.
\nIf all this talk of interstellar swashbuckling sounds dead exciting, be warned that some of the story is aimed at an Astounding<\/em> audience and not a Planet Stories<\/em> one:<\/p>\n

\u201cBut in the betatron, the thing is run differently. The magnet is built for A. C. and the electron gun runs off the same. As your current starts up from zero, the electron gun squirts a bouquet of electrons into a chamber built like a pair of pie plates set rim to rim. The magnet\u2019s field begins to build up at the same time, and the resulting increase in field strength accelerates the electrons and at the same time, its increasing field keeps the little devils running in the same orbit. Shoot it with two-hundred cycle current, and in the half cycle your electrons are made to run around the center a few million times. That builds up a terrific velocity\u2014measured in six figures, believe it or not. Then the current begins to level off at the top of the sine wave, and the magnet loses its increasing phase. The electrons, still in acceleration, begin to whirl outward. The current levels off for sure and begins to slide down\u2014and the electrons roll off at a tangent to their course. This stream can be collected and used. In fact, we have a two-hundred-cycle beam of electrons at a couple of billion volts. That, brother, ain\u2019t hay!\u201d\u00a0 p. 25<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

\u2014little surprise that Astounding\/Analog<\/em> is sometimes described as \u201cthe science fiction magazine with rivets\u201d.
\nThere are about six pages of this\u2014my eyes glazed over\u2014which is a pity, as the story was fairly good up until this point. That said, this will appeal to some readers, and you can see why these stories of optimistic, flirty, can-do engineers were popular at the time, even if they are now rather dated (and I\u2019m mostly referring to the science here).<\/p>\n

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Death Sentence<\/em><\/strong> by Issac Asimov is one of his robot stories but, even though it involves United Robots and positronics, it doesn\u2019t seem, for reasons that will become apparent, to be a tale that fits into that universe.
\nThe story begins with Theor Realo approaching Brand Gorla, an old college classmate, for help. Realo describes to Gorla the ancient science of psychological engineering, and tells him about a planet of positronic robots that was set up to conduct experiments in this subject. Realo then reveals that the experiment has been running on its own for tens of thousands of years, and that he has been there for the last five! Gorla agrees to present the information to the Federation\u2019s Board Master, and an expedition is organised.<\/p>\n

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The rest of the story takes place on the planet, and details the accompanying Under Secretary\u2019s increasing concern about the threat the robots pose to the stability and peace of the Federation. After they discuss the matter, the team agree to blockade the planet if the money can be found, and not to do anything further unless the robots develop interstellar travel.
\nWhat then happens is that (spoiler), during a conversation between the Board Master and Realo, the latter reveals hitherto unknown information about his arrival on the planet. The robots closely examined his ship, and Realo realised that they would eventually develop the technology themselves. When the Board Master states that this means a death sentence for the robots, Realo runs off to warn them. There is a lame twist ending where (spoiler) one of the robot cities is revealed as . . . New York! This ridiculous final twist drags down a okay-ish story to mediocre.
\nI note that, although there are some memorable Asimov stories from this period (the \u2018Foundation\u2019 stories, Nightfall<\/em>, some of the \u2018Robot\u2019 tales), he was still capable of producing poor work at this stage of his career (I wasn\u2019t that impressed with last year\u2019s Runaround<\/em> either, although it\u2019s not as bad as this). And what is it with the weird names?
\nI guess this one got on to this year\u2019s Retro Hugo final ballot because of name recognition.<\/p>\n

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The Beast<\/em><\/strong> by A. E. van Vogt is the second of the \u2018Pendrake\u2019 series, which opens with a mini-data dump about the previous story The Great Engine<\/em> (Astounding<\/em>, July 1943):<\/p>\n

Slightly more than two years had passed since that day in August, when he had found an atomic engine in the hillside near Crescentville, slightly less than two years since he had traced the marvellous machine to these turreted towers and to a group of scientists who were secretly operating spaceships to Venus, carrying emigrants to that fantastically lovely and fertile planet under an idealistic plan of their own.\u00a0 p. 48<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

For \u201cidealistic plan\u201d read \u201cwith press gangs\u201d.
\nThe story starts with Pendrake (a one-armed man of unusual strength) again visiting the Lambton Settlement Project building, which was the scientists\u2019 front operation. Here he finds that Germans have taken over the building, and is held at gunpoint before being put on a spacecraft into orbit.
\nBefore his story continues there are two other sub-plots set running. The first of these involves Pendrake\u2019s Air Force buddy, Major Hoskins, who is questioned by his bosses about his friendship with the Pendrake, and the kidnapping, murders, and propeller-less plane he witnessed at his home (part of the previous story). The second sub-plot has a henchman called Birdman meet his boss, where they drink a toast to Hitler.<\/p>\n

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Pendrake meanwhile wakes up on the moon near a crashed spacecraft. He remembers a fight on board that led to the accident. He realizes, while examining the site, that he cannot keep warm in the shade, and cannot work out how to use the suit controls to turn the heater on. Night starts falling, and with it the possibility he may freeze to death, so he periodically buries himself in the dust to warm himself up as he treks across the Moon. He eventually descends deep into a cave, stumbles on a radiant ore, and then an artificial corridor. Eventually he finds a stream, where spacesuit-less men attack him.<\/p>\n

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Back on Earth the two sub-plots merge when Birdman is told the FBI are investigating, and that he is to kill Hoskins, who has been examining Pendrake\u2019s home. The assassination attempt on Hoskins occurs at a public meeting, but his bullet proof vest saves him. As the Feds arrive, Birdman escapes in his car:<\/p>\n

The gray car slowed, hesitated, and for the first time Hoskins grew aware that its engine was making no noise. With a hiss of indrawn breath he realized what was going to happen.
\nThe gray sedan rose, like a thistledown it rose into the air and climbed straight up like a shooting star in reverse.
\nIt became a dot in the sky and headed into the blue mists of immense heights. Just before it vanished, Hoskins had the curious impression that a long torpedo-shaped structure was waiting up there.
\nIt was there; and then it wasn\u2019t.
\nGone, too, was the car. Hoskins shook his head, thinking hazily: It could have been a trick of his vision.
\nBut he knew better. A torpedoshaped spaceship was not at all out of place in the tremendous game that was being played here.\u00a0 p. 63<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

A short data dump then sets out the general situation, revealing that the government know about a number of missing scientists and the atomic engine. Meanwhile, Birdman\u2019s boss tells him about Pendrake\u2019s arrival on the Moon, and that they will need to deal with him and the cave-dwellers.
\nUp until this point the story is a rather uneven, kitchen-sink piece but it subsequently develops a propulsiveness that propels the reader through the remainder of the far-fetched plot: to wit, Pendrake awakes to find a man called Morrison tending him, and is told that he will be taken to see Big Oaf\u2014a near-immortal Neanderthal. There is also mention of the \u201cdevil beast in the pit\u201d.
\nWhen Pendrake finally gets to his feet in this lunar chamber he sees an almost impossible scene:<\/p>\n

Below him was a town set in a garden of trees and flowers. There were broad streets, and he could see men and\u2014queer!\u2014uniformed women.
\nHe forgot the people of the town.
\nHis gaze soared from horizon, to horizon. There was a green meadow on the far side of the town where cattle grazed. Beyond, the ceiling of the cave swept down to a junction with the ground at some point below the cliff, a point invisible from where he sat.
\nIt held him for a moment, that line where a radiant cave sky met a cave horizon.
\nThen his gaze came back to the town, to the gorgeous town. A hundred yards away it began. First there was a line of tall trees heavily laden with large, gray fruit. The trees sheltered the nearest of many buildings. The structure was small, delicate-looking. It seemed to have been built of some shell-like substance.
\nIt glowed as if light was inside it, shining through its translucent walls. Its design was more that of a shapely bee\u2019s nest than of a sea shell, but the resemblance to the shell was there, too.
\nThe other buildings that glinted tantalizingly through the trees differed widely in details, but the central architectural motif, and the basic glow-material was ever present. \u00a0p. 68-69<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

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Pendrake goes to see Big Oaf, and notices on the journey there that the people in the town are from various periods and locales: German Army women, Neanderthals, and a number of men from the Wild West, etc. Pendrake later finds out that this strange mix has been gathered either from raids on German bases on the Moon, or from a time portal that Big Oaf keeps guarded.
\nMost of the rest of the story concerns Pendrake\u2019s attempts to undermine Big Oaf\u2019s rule in the town, during which further (!) fantastic elements are introduced:<\/p>\n

Pendrake approached the edge of the abyss cautiously, and peered over. He found himself staring down a wall of cliff that descended smooth and straight for a distance of about five hundred feet. There was brush at the bottom and a grassy plain and\u2014
\nPendrake gasped. Then he felt faint. He swayed dizzily\u2014 and then with a terrible effort caught his whirling mind. And looked again, trembling.
\nThe yellow-green-blue-red beast in the pit was sitting on its haunches. It looked as big as a horse. Its head was tilted, its baleful eyes glaring up at the two men. And the hideously long teeth that protruded from its jowls confirmed Pendrake\u2019s first mind-shaking comprehension:
\nThe devil-beast was a sabretoothed tiger.\u00a0 p. 76-77<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

Various things happen: Big Oaf tries to recruit Pendrake to shut down the portal (so that they cannot be invaded from other time periods), and also to go on a raid of a German lunar base. He also tells Pendrake that men with silver suits and laser guns appeared out of the portal hundreds of thousands of years ago, but he left them to die of hunger and thirst inside the stockade in case they proved a threat.
\nBack on Earth, meanwhile, Hoskins and Lipton go to occupied Germany to be briefed on two \u201cmurder centres\u201d, which appear to be linked with spaceship activity. This section produces some predictive (although wrong) post-occupation comment:<\/p>\n

As you know, Hitler\u2019s method was to put a party man into every conceivable controlling position in every community.
\n\u201cNaturally, we deposed all these petty fuehrers, replacing them with the stanchest pre-war democrats we could find. At this point we ran into a difficulty.
\n\u201cThe Nazis had anticipated us. In every district a secret Nazi cell had been built up with a secret leader under whose command were young, stone-hearted men specially trained to commit murder and to defeat all attempts to reconstitute democracy. The leaders we appointed hardly dare to make a move for fear of displeasing these hidden Nazi zone chiefs.
\n\u201cIt will straighten out in time, of course. As the Nazi youth go into their thirties, get married, their zest for danger will fade; and the new, younger generation is being trained our way.
\n\u201cNevertheless, political creeds like pretensions to thrones, die hard. And right now these people are \u00a0committing about a thousand murders a week in Germany itself; about eight hundred more in the rest of Europe.\u201d\u00a0 p. 86<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

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The climax involves (spoiler) a fight between Pendrake and Big Oaf, which the former loses, but Big Oaf is the one who ends up in the pit with hungry sabre-tooth tiger. We learn that Birdman\u2019s boss is Hitler, who shoots himself when the Americans arrive on the Moon. The sabre-tooth tiger (amusingly) ends up in a cage in an unsuspecting zoo (presumably the RSPCA\/ASPCA et al<\/em> ducked that call).
\nVan Vogt does a good job at melding these disparate and unlikely elements: show me another writer who could put together a one-armed superman, anti-gravity drives, caves on the Moon, time portals, immortal Neanderthals and sabre-toothed tigers, lunar Nazi holdouts, etc., and produce an entertaining potboiler.2<\/sup><\/p>\n

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Gallegher Plus<\/em><\/strong> by Henry Kuttner is the fourth of the \u2018Gallegher\u2019 stories, and the last that would appear until a final story in 1948 (Ex Machina<\/em> in the June Astounding<\/em>). This one starts, as usual, with Gallegher waking up with a hangover to find he has built another machine:<\/p>\n

Gallegher uncoiled his lanky body and wandered across to the machine, examining it curiously. It was not in operation. Through the open window extended some pale, limber cables as thick as his thumb; they dangled a foot or so over the edge of the pit where the back yard should have been. They ended in\u2014
\nHm-m-m! Gallegher pulled one up and peered at it. They ended in metal-rimmed holes, and were hollow. Odd.
\nThe machine\u2019s over-all length was approximately two yards, and it looked like an animated junk heap.
\nGallegher had a habit of using makeshifts. If he couldn\u2019t find the right sort of connection, he\u2019d snatch the nearest suitable object\u2014a buttonhook, perhaps, or a coat hanger\u2014and use that. Which meant that a qualitative analysis of an already assembled machine was none too easy. What, for example, was that fibroid duck doing wrapped around with wires and nestling contentedly on an antique waffle iron?\u00a0 p. 122<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

Joe (the \u201cProud Robot\u201d from the last story) tells Gallegher a cop is waiting, and Gallegher gets served a summons. He also finds that he needs to deliver on three paid-for contracts, and that his recently bought shares in Devices Unlimited have tanked.
\nHe contacts the man who served the summons after talking to his lawyer, and the former says he\u2019ll come over. Gallegher meanwhile turns on the machine, which uses its tubes to hoover up material from the hole, plays the tune St James infirmary<\/em>, and produces nothing.<\/p>\n

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The rest of the story (again, as usual) weaves together a number of strands until (spoiler) Gallegher finally discovers the purpose of the machine, which is (a) to get rid of the spoil from a building site excavation, (b) produce a wire for spaceship control runs and (c) stereoscopic screens. The fourth function is to sing a duet with Gallegher while he is drunk.
\nThis is a pleasant enough story with some amusing elements: the exchanges with Joe the robot, for instance, or the drinking game that Gallegher undertakes:<\/p>\n

Unfortunately an alphabetical pub-crawl, with its fantastic mixtures, proved none too easy. Gallegher already had a hangover. And Cuff\u2019s thirst was insatiable.
\n\u201cL? What\u2019s L?\u201d
\n\u201cLachrymae Christi. Or Liebfraumilch.\u201d
\n\u201cOh, boy!\u201d
\nIt was a relief to get back to a Martini. After the Orange Blossom Gallegher began to feel dizzy. For R he suggested root beer, but Cuff would have none of that.
\n\u201cWell, rice wine.\u201d
\n\u201cYeah. Rice\u2014 hey! We missed N! We gotta start over now from A!\u201d
\nGallegher dissuaded the alderman with some trouble, and succeeded only after fascinating Cuff with the exotic name ng ga po. They worked on, through sazeracs, tailspins, undergrounds, and vodka. W meant whiskey.
\n\u201cX?\u201d
\nThey looked at each other through alcoholic fogs. Gallegher shrugged and stared around. How had they got into this swanky, well-furnished private clubroom, he wondered. It wasn\u2019t the Uplift, that was certain.
\nOh, well\u2014
\n\u201cX?\u201d Cuff insisted. \u201cDon\u2019t fail me now, pal.\u201d
\n\u201cExtra whiskey,\u201d Gallegher said brilliantly.\u00a0 p. 137<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

Nevertheless, the story feels too similar to the previous three, and has more of a deux ex machina ending. Although I enjoyed this one I\u2019m glad he stopped the series here (until adding one final story in 1948).<\/p>\n

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\u201c… If You Can Get It\u201d<\/em><\/strong> by Murray Leinster has the narrator go to a show where he sees an old college acquaintance called \u201cStinky\u201d doing sensational magic tricks. Afterwards he goes to see Stinky and discovers that he isn\u2019t doing conventional tricks at all, but knows how to imagine things into reality.
\nAs the story progresses we find out that there is one drawback, which is that if someone does not believe he is capable of doing something he can\u2019t do it. The major downside of this is that he can\u2019t get back to Llanvabon, a created world where they believe he can do anything (the narrator wants to go there because of the large number of pretty young women).
\nUltimately (spoiler), the problem isn\u2019t resolved, and the ending\u2014an appeal to the readership for help\u2014does not disguise that:<\/p>\n

SOS! R.S.V.P.! Help! Aid! Assistance! Any bright mind in call, work out a solution for Stinky Selden and me, and write your own ticket! Anything you like, from a couple of hogsheads of jewelry to King Chosroe\u2019s harem, is yours if you figure out a way to get back the knack that Stinky had a little while ago. It\u2019s life and death! It\u2019s patriotism! Write, wire, or telephone. Put your brains to work! I\u2019m dizzy with trying to figure it out, but it\u2019s bound to be simple!
\nSOS! R.S.V.P.! Help!\u00a0 p. 165<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

The month\u2019s Cover <\/em><\/strong>by William Timmins is a particularly dreary, almost monochromatic affair, and shows us the wrong end of the action (there is a tiny spaceship at the other end of the electron beam).
\nThe Interior artwork<\/em><\/strong> is mostly by Paul Orban, who provides the best of it (his work for the van Vogt story). That said, some of his other illustrations are mediocre, as are the ones from Elton Fax (disappointingly, after his near-Schoenherr quality effort in a previous issue) and Alfred. There is also a new illustration on the redesigned contents page:<\/p>\n

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Arithmetic and Empire<\/em><\/strong> by John W. Campbell, Jr. follows on from his Galactic Empire editorial in the last issue with speculation about the huge number of government employees required to run it.
\nThe Analytical Laboratory: September 1943<\/em><\/strong> was discussed in the review of that issue.3<\/sup>
\nIn Times to Come<\/em><\/strong> plugs a new E. Mayne Hull \u2018Artur Blord\u2019 story, and talks a little (see above) about the Timmins cover to go with it, and the problems in painting an invisible spaceship. Most of the rest of the space concerns George O. Smith\u2019s new story (you can tell that Smith was one of the first to press Cambell\u2019s buttons):<\/p>\n

George O. Smith is a radio designing engineer; he\u2019s got a yarn coming up next month that comes from the heart. Any technician who\u2019s tried to work from a \u201ccomplete\u201d instruction manual knows with a bitter \u00a0certainty that such texts invariably leave out all the important data. In \u201cLost Art,\u201d Smith discusses the ancient Martian technique of\u2014something or other. Like most manuals, the \u201ccomplete\u201d manual found in the Martian ruin neglected to explain what the purpose of the technology was.
\n(Ever see a standard manual that explained what radio was intended for? RCA\u2019s excellent and elaborate \u201cReceiving Tube Manual.\u201d for instance, doesn\u2019t so much as hint that a transmitting station somewhere is a great help to proper operation of a radio!) The discoverers of the manual\u2014and the necessary tube to go with it\u2014know it\u2019s a vastly important science. Only\u2014what the heck is it?\u00a0 p. 154<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

Pages 99 to 114 are the sixteen special pages (I presume) that Campbell mentioned last issue, the ones done in rotogravure printing, and which allow the reproduction of photographs. To squeeze in \u201cThose Giant Tubes …\u201d<\/em><\/strong> and the two science articles that carry photographs into that space, the first article by Richardson is truncated and completed at the end of the issue.<\/p>\n

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The first of those articles, \u201cTurn On the Moon\u2014Make It Hotter!\u201d<\/em><\/strong>, tells of Richardson\u2019s time as an astronomical adviser on a Hollywood film, The Heavenly Body<\/em>.<\/p>\n

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There are some interesting sections in the article:<\/p>\n

In addition to having an astronomer present to supervise the observatory scenes, the studio also employed an astrologer to handle the astrological sequences. The two of us never met, the studio evidently fearing that we would immediately start to tear each other apart upon sight. I always had the greatest curiosity to meet this individual, with the idea of asking some of the questions that people are continually asking me about astrology. Half of an astronomer\u2019s social time is spent in explaining that he doesn\u2019t know how to cast a horoscope.\u00a0 p. 105<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

In addition to catching astronomical errors, the technical adviser is also called upon for lines that have an authentic ring to them. I was asked for a line in Bill\u2019s speech to the effect that if he hadn\u2019t made a mistake in his calculations, the comet was sure to hit the moon. One that sounded really powerful and dramatic.
\nAfter pondering the matter for several minutes, I finally came through with the following:
\n.<\/span>
\nBILL (DICTATING TO HIS ASSISTANT):
\n\u201cAnd should there be no error in my calculations, these two heavenly bodies are sure to intersect in their orbits.\u201d
\n.<\/span>
\nTo my amazement, everyone in the room, from the director to the stenographer, burst into laughter. They assured me that under no circumstances would the Hays [censors] office allow a line like that one to get by. I never realized what the moving picture industry was up against before.\u00a0 p. 106<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n

The second article has little to do with SF\u2014it would be a good fit for Reader\u2019s Digest<\/em>\u2014but is one which, having just finished watching the WWII U-boat series Das Boat<\/em>, I found fascinating. Keep \u2019Em Under <\/em><\/strong>by Malcolm Jameson is about submarine warfare, and it also has a number of interesting passages:<\/p>\n

The submarine carries no armor beyond light splinter plating on the conning tower. Any hit on it may well prove fatal, however small the caliber of the shell, for the greatest of all the sub\u2019s weaknesses is its lack of reserve buoyancy. Where even the rustiest of old cargo ships could receive hit after hit and ship tons of water and still stay afloat on a reasonably even keel, the submarine is mortally injured by the slightest puncture of its skin. The sub is always in a state of delicate trim, and the admission of unwanted salt water not only tends to destroy the small store of spare buoyancy, but may send the sub reeling at crazy angles and out of control.
\nBuoyancy and trim are the key words to submarine performance.\u00a0 p. 108<\/p>\n

Correcting trim is a tricky job.
\nThere are two reasons for this. One is inherent in submersibles, the other is due to human frailty. A submarine has two conditions of stability\u2014one when light and on the surface, the other when completely under. When the Main Ballasts are flooded there is a sickening moment of uncertainty as the boat tremblingly shifts from one condition to the other. It may have been in apparently perfect trim above, yet assume a disconcerting slant the moment it is under. This can be forestalled by thorough knowledge of the characteristics of the particular boat and painstaking care in compensation. Human frailty enters in that things are sometimes overlooked, or go unreported, or errors may be made in computation.
\nEven veteran submarine men undergo a moment of anxiety when diving after a long period on the surface, for they can never be sure until they get under and see how the boat behaves.\u00a0 p. 112<\/p>\n

Submarines usually will submerge at the first sight of hostile aircraft, and deeply, for subs can be seen from the air in certain lights even when at considerable depths.\u00a0 p. 116<\/p>\n

Altogether, the lot of the submariner is not a happy one, despite the scare he sometimes throws into us and the undeniable damage he does. Every man\u2019s hand is against him, including those of his own people, for submarines are shot at first and challenged afterward. He works alone and every move he makes is attended by the threat of sudden death. When he dies in action\u2014and he often does\u2014the world does not know when or how. His death may be swift, or again by slow asphyxiation in the dark of the ocean bed. While he lives he is always in discomfort, cooped up under artificial light in cramped quarters and breathing smelly air. In the winter he is always cold, for he is immersed in icy brine and energy for heating is too precious to be expended. Yet there are plenty of men who like it.\u00a0 p. 117-118<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n

The first two letters in Brass Tacks<\/em><\/strong> are both from Paul Carter, but the first has a Idaho address, and the second a Massachusetts one. The first mentions the July issue and praises Leiber\u2019s Gather Darkness<\/em>; the second discusses C. L. Moore\u2019s Judgement Night<\/em>, Hal Clement\u2019s Attitude<\/em>, and van Vogt\u2019s Concealment<\/em>. Given the non-overlap I presume they are from the same person.
\nThere follows a short letter from George O. Smith (in reply to Caleb Northrup\u2019s comments in an earlier issue about, I think, the problems of scientific development), and then a very long letter from Walter A. Carrithers Jr. of Fresno, CA, who has gone through all the Brass Tacks<\/em> letters to develop a reader score for all stories published to date:<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n

This, unfortunately, is one of those garbage in, garbage out analyses\u2014the author himself points to the varying numbers of letters in Brass Tacks<\/em> over the years (the column didn\u2019t appear for a while in 1938, so there are no letters from that period), as well as their varying content (some early 1930\u2019s columns were mostly concerned with fan feuds, etc.). This perhaps explains the poor showing from Golden Age stories in the list\u2014that, and the small sample size, which may not reflect the views of the wider readership.
\nThe last letter is from a regular, Chad Oliver, who didn\u2019t like Bradbury\u2019s Doodad<\/em>, \u201cbecause he tried to suit his style to Astounding<\/em> [. . .] I prefer the old style\u2014the serious, even beautiful writing to the clever stuff in Doodad<\/em>.\u201d
\nFinally, the column has a new title design:<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n

An okay issue. \u00a0\u25cf<\/p>\n

_____________________<\/p>\n

1. Rogers says that \u201cthe magazine was 5\u00bd x 7\u00be inches in size, [and] had 176 pages\u201d and that fan reaction to the new size was \u201cin the main favourable\u201d. He adds that \u201cthe best story in the issue was Padgett\u2019s Gallegher Plus<\/em>\u201d. The Asimov and Leinster stories are not mentioned.<\/p>\n

2. The Pendrake stories were fixed up into one of the earliest paperback novels I bought, Moonbeast<\/em> (originally The Beast<\/em>). I didn\u2019t particularly like it as, if I recall correctly, it was too kitchen sink. Although van Vogt\u2019s wild plots work over the course of a novelette or novella, they just seem a jumble when you strap three or four of them together and call the result a \u201cnovel\u201d.<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n

The ISFDB page for the \u2018Pendrake\u2019 series is here<\/a>. The notes for The Beast<\/em>\/Moonbeast<\/em> tell us that, according to Icshi,* chapters 1-5 are The Great Engine<\/em>; chapters 5-11, are The Changeling<\/em> (not a \u2018Pendrake\u2019 story according to Ischi); chapters 12-13 are linking material; and chapters 14-31 & Epilogue are The Beast<\/em>.
\n*Ischi\u2019s van Vogt site is here<\/a>.<\/p>\n

3. The Analytical Laboratory<\/em> results for this issue appeared in the January 1944 issue:<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n

I would have put the van Vogt and Kuttner together at the top, followed by the Smith, and then the Asimov and Leinster a long way behind . . . but as Campbell says, there was a small sample size.\u00a0 \u25cf<\/p>\n\"rss\"<\/a>\"rss\"<\/a><\/span>","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

ISFDB link Archive.org link Other reviews:1 Alva Rogers, A Requiem for Astounding \u00a0p. 126-127 _____________________ Editor, John W. Campbell Jr.; Assistant Editor, Catherine Tarrant Fiction: Recoil \u2022 novelette by George O. Smith \u2217\u2217 Death Sentence \u2022 short story by Isaac Asimov \u2217 The Beast \u2022 novelette by A. E. van Vogt \u2217\u2217\u2217 Gallegher Plus \u2022 […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":true,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","enabled":false},"version":2}},"categories":[15],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-10295","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-astounding"],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p6Pcj7-2G3","jetpack-related-posts":[],"jetpack_likes_enabled":true,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/sfmagazines.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/10295","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/sfmagazines.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/sfmagazines.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/sfmagazines.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/sfmagazines.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=10295"}],"version-history":[{"count":6,"href":"https:\/\/sfmagazines.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/10295\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":10379,"href":"https:\/\/sfmagazines.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/10295\/revisions\/10379"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/sfmagazines.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=10295"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/sfmagazines.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=10295"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/sfmagazines.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=10295"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}