{"id":5191,"date":"2018-06-15T13:28:10","date_gmt":"2018-06-15T13:28:10","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/sfmagazines.com\/?p=5191"},"modified":"2018-06-15T15:37:55","modified_gmt":"2018-06-15T15:37:55","slug":"new-worlds-147-february-1965","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/sfmagazines.com\/?p=5191","title":{"rendered":"New Worlds SF #147, February 1965"},"content":{"rendered":"

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

ISFDB link<\/a><\/p>\n

Other reviews:1<\/sup>
\nGraham Hall, Vector<\/em> #31 (March 1965)<\/p>\n

_____________________<\/p>\n

Editor, Michael Moorcock; Assistant Editor, Langdon Jones<\/p>\n

Fiction:
\nThe Power of Y<\/em><\/strong> (Part 2 of 2) \u2022 novella serial by Arthur Sellings \u2217<\/strong>
\nMore Than a Man<\/em><\/strong> \u2022 short story by John Baxter \u2217<\/strong>
\nWhen the Skies Fall<\/em><\/strong> \u2022 short story by John Hamilton \u2217<\/strong>\u2217<\/strong>
\nThe Singular Quest of Martin Borg<\/em><\/strong> \u2022 novelette by George Collyn \u2217<\/strong>
\nThe Mountain<\/em><\/strong> \u2022 reprint short story by Michael Moorcock [as by James Colvin] \u2217<\/strong>\u2217<\/strong>
\nBox <\/em><\/strong>\u2022 short story by Richard Wilson \u2217<\/strong>\u2217<\/strong><\/p>\n

Non-fiction:
\nCover<\/em><\/strong> \u2022 by Jakubowicz
\nInterior artwork<\/em><\/strong> \u2022 by Maeve Gilmore, James Cawthorn, uncredited
\nA Rare Event<\/em><\/strong> \u2022 editorial
\nBiological Electricity<\/em><\/strong> \u2022 science essay
\nCan Spacemen Live with Their Illusions?<\/em><\/strong> \u2022 science essay by Science Horizons
\nThe Cosmic Satirist<\/em><\/strong> \u2022 book reviews by Michael Moorcock [as by James Colvin]
\nSilver Collections<\/em><\/strong> \u2022 book reviews by Michael Moorcock [as by James Colvin]
\nDid Elric Die in Vain?<\/em><\/strong> \u2022 book review by Alan Forrest
\nHardly SF<\/em><\/strong> \u2022 book reviews by Hilary Bailey
\nLetters to the Editor<\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n

_____________________<\/p>\n

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

The second instalment of The Power of Y<\/em><\/strong>\u00a0by Arthur Sellings (a novel about a world where \u201cPlying\u201d, the limited identical reproduction of objects, is available) has Afford getting out of the sanatorium and going on a somewhat farcical journey (he is trying to lose any tail he may have) that ends at a safe house in the countryside. His Aunt Clarissa, Guy Burroughs, and Joanna are there. A disgruntled late arrival is Tom Mitchison (Afford\u2019s minder, appointed by Aunt Clarissa). The group discuss the situation and note a surprising discovery: the President\u2019s assistant is a disguised man called Rockstro, one of the two inventors of plying (both are reported to have died).
\nAfter this the novel partially turns into a synopsis, as a lot of the action happens off-stage and is then talked about in later meetings, such as when Burroughs turns up at a Chinese restaurant days later and lays out the plot to Afford and his aunt. He tells them that an old lab assistant of Klien\u2019s (the other inventor) has told him about the plying of a dog, and how the copied creature was a docile and easily manipulated creature. Burroughs concludes from this that the real president is alive and a prisoner in the Europa Palace, and that they must break in and rescue him.<\/p>\n

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

The rest of the novel is mostly fast-paced, if unlikely, action. Afford and Burroughs spend\u00a0several days tunnelling into the Palace. When they finally break in (spoiler) they find the President and take Rockstro prisoner. There is a gunfight on the way out and they blow the tunnel. They get the President to the safe house and tell him about the plot.
\nThe final twist occurs when the President disappears shortly afterwards, seemingly from a locked room with guards outside. Then the copy of the president gives a radio broadcast and, in the middle of his speech, he disappears too. Rockostro explains in a data dump what has happened: they haven\u2019t borrowed copies of the objects from other spaces but from other times.<\/p>\n

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

They go to the palace, and find it under military control: the plotters are arrested, and all ends well.
\nThe second half of this novella is not as good as the first: a story told with a certain lightness of tone turns into an unlikely adventure, where the chess pieces are formulaically moved around the board. The plying gimmick\u00a0is completely unconvincing too.2<\/sup>
\nMore Than a Man<\/em><\/strong> by John Baxter starts with two captains in the Terran Navy who are on the surface of an alien planet preparing themselves for a mission. Once they are suitably disguised they go to the nearby town and arrange for a private audience with the sovereign. When they are alone we discover the latter is\u00a0a robot, and it is then serviced by the two men.
\nOn the way to their next job we learn of a previous space war with the opposing Hegemony forces:<\/p>\n

He remembered Dubhe well enough, though he had been only a child at the time. It wasn\u2019t something that any Earthman, especially a Navy officer, could hope to forget. Beyond that star a frozen graveyard of ships stood as a permanent reminder of the suicidal futility of blow-for-blow battling in space.
\nIt had been the first and the last space battle. After Dubhe, both sides limped home and reconsidered their strategy. Out of that reconsideration had come the Hegemony\u2019s all-enveloping net of colonial outposts and the Earth\u2019s plan of robot subversion. So perhaps Dubhe had not been such a total loss after all.\u00a0 p. 53<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

During their next job (on a different planet) they struggle to find the tribal chief they are looking for until some of his tribesmen appear at their camp. They get to him and find he is malfunctioning due to gunshot wounds. One of the navy captains goes for spares, the other stays. When the tribesmen say their leader must accompany them on a raid, the remaining Terran captain changes his features and goes in the leader\u2019s place. The punchline seems to be that he will find out if the robots are \u201cmore than men\u201d (an idea briefly floated earlier in the story).
\nThis story has a tired setting, is overlong, and it doesn\u2019t have the early focus on the robot\/man idea that its conclusion requires. All of which leaves the ending feeling like a non-sequitur.
\nWhen the Skies Fall<\/em><\/strong> by John Hamilton starts off with three men seemingly talking over each other but, eventually, a religious discussion develops and this leads to a comment about the date of Armageddon. One of the men pencils this in his diary for a week hence, and then the other asks whether the knowledge of this date could cause it to change. The last scene (spoiler) is the unravelling of reality.
\nThis story\u2019s initial obliqueness is discouraging but the last scene is effective:<\/p>\n

Dixey, still sitting to their left at the side of the room, had not been listening and was the first to hear an odd sound: over and above the mellow singing from downstairs sweet rippling chords from some musical instrument could be discerned\u2014it took little reflection to recognise it was a harp.
\nAll three listened to the rise and fall of the strings, quietly enchanted by the freshness and elegance and coolness of the air-borne notes. The singing below stopped\u2014they too listened to the music which issued from a delicate flutter of unseen fingers. It was like the summer brook of Time rippling and playing over the stones of the centuries, washing them softly away.
\nSome time later the flow of music faded and Dixey coughed, almost apologetically. There followed a silence and then a strange muffled sound\u2014as of a deck of cards falling, and the new silence was deeper than before, than ever before. It was the silence of a tomb.
\nInstinctively all three were drawn slowly to the window, and all three gasped or sighed from deep within their souls. Nothing. Void. Blank. The trees, the houses, the street, the sky\u2014the world was gone.
\nThe scene that met their eyes was a blank domino, a painting washed clean.
\nDumas\u2019 voice muttered something about being wrong.\u00a0 p. 66<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

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

The longest piece of short fiction in the issue is George Collyn\u2019s novelette The Singular Quest of Martin Borg<\/em><\/strong>. It is described in the blurb as a \u201cmarvellously funny spoof\u201d but is, in reality, an overlong, plodding story, and a bit of a chore to read.
\nIt begins with a drug dealer and an exotic dancer\/concubine meeting on a spaceship. After their brief encounter the dancer gives birth to a son. When the mother remarries some years later, the boy is left in the care of robots on a remote planetoid, and remains there until he is discovered twenty-five years later. He is taken\u00a0to civilization.
\nThe rest of the story runs through various SF tropes: Martin develops psi powers and later teleports back to the planetoid. There he sees a photo of his mother and changes his sex and appearance so as he looks like her:<\/p>\n

He thought of lean thighs, white and clear-cut and felt their configuration as it would be and it was so. He thought of breasts swelling apple-round and sensed their touch and it was so. He formulated hair of gold in perfect fall to his shoulders and it was so. He imagined almond eyes and tulip lips, delicate curves and rounded femininity and it was so. He thought of yielding fragility and steel-tempered passion and Marti Marta reborn stood in the nursery; which sounds incredible but it was so.\u00a0 p. 77<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

Martita then goes to Hi Li City where she works as a concubine:<\/p>\n

Martita Borg spent twenty years in Hi Li City and in that time she had many lovers and from nibbling at their subconscious thoughts, unshielded in moments of passion, she learnt many secret things.
\nFor five years she was a dancer like her mother, a mime artist, adept of the five hundred Postures of Meaning and her naked and supple limbs traced intricate and erotic patterns for the delectation of the Great Minds.
\nThen for five years she was a jewelled one, her entire body, save the sexual and erogenous zones, gold-painted and encrusted with gems and precious stones, her body veined with sapphires and turquoise, arms outlined in garnets and opals, thighs of milk white pearl and bloodred rubies and a face diamond masked and emerald framed. An exquisite gem; finest product of the jeweller\u2019s and goldsmith\u2019s art; an expensive toy for the treasures of the galaxy.\u00a0 p. 78<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

She then meets a brutal Emperor, later revealed as Martin\/Martita\u2019s father. The Emperor\u2019s heart stops when he sees what he thinks is his ex-wife:<\/p>\n

So would have perished the body of the most powerful man ever to live had not his son captured his persona, memory and body in their dying spasm and reunited father, mother and son in one brain and body.\u00a0 p. 83<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

You get the idea. I think there is a time loop at the end, with Martin having a normal childhood the next time around, but I\u2019d rather lost interest by then so I\u2019m not entirely sure.<\/p>\n

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

The Mountain<\/em><\/strong> by Michael Moorcock (first published as Le Montague\u00a0in Nocturne 1<\/em>) is a Ballardian post-holocaust story where two surviving men climb a mountain in pursuit of a woman:<\/p>\n

Not without certain trepidation, Hallner followed behind his friend who marched towards the mountains without looking back or even from side to side.
\nNilsson had a goal and rather than sit down, brood and die when the inescapable finally happened, Hallner was prepared to go along with him on this quest for the girl.
\nAnd, he admitted, there was a faint chance that if the winds continued to favour them, they might have a chance of life. In which case there was a logical reason for Nilsson\u2019s obsessional tracking of the woman.
\nHis friend was impatient of his wish to walk slowly and savour the atmosphere of the country which seemed so detached and removed, uninvolved with him, disdainful.
\nThat there were things which had no emotional relationship with him, had given him a slight surprise at first, and even now he walked the marshy ground with a feeling of abusing privacy, of destroying the sanctity of a place where there was so little hint of humanity; where men had been rare and had not been numerous or frequent enough visitors to have left the aura of their passing behind them.\u00a0 p. 90-91<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

Of course they never catch her, and it all comes to a nihilistic end. I suppose the journey up the mountain, with its perils and its passage through the mist,\u00a0may be a metaphor for the ascent of humanity and the ultimate futility of this process, but I\u2019m not sure of this interpretation.
\nAlthough this kind of thing isn\u2019t usually my cup of tea, I thought this was okay.<\/p>\n

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

Box <\/em><\/strong>by Richard Wilson has a narrator who lives in an efficiency apartment, a small box, and he has not been out of it for some years, but wants to get together with a woman he is infatuated with called Maria. Hitherto he has got his life and sexual experiences through the \u201cdreamies\u201d:<\/p>\n

When Harry was in the mood for something more active he used the Triveo-Plus, also known as the tactiloscope or dreamies. Through the magic of TP (available at extra cost) he had climbed Everest and Tupungato, breathing normally. He had explored the Antarctic and the Sahara, in 72-degree comfort. He had skin-dived, dry, off the Great Barrier Reef. He had spelunked, without anxiety, in Fingal\u2019s Cave and Aggtelek and Devil\u2019s Hole. And, on a bootleg channel (available at extortionate cost) he had lain in the arms of five hundred variegated young women. That averaged out, over five years, to two a week. Harry McCann felt that in his sex life, as in his other habits, he was a temperate man.\u00a0 p. 105<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

He eventually manages to conquer his agoraphobia and make the journey across the city to see Maria. Of course (spoiler), once he gets to her flat he isn\u2019t allowed in as she hasn\u2019t been out for years, and couldn\u2019t cope with a real visitor.
\nThis reads like the kind of story the 1950s\u00a0Galaxy<\/em> might have run, although it may have contained too many autobiographical elements for the editor Horace Gold (the agoraphoboia, etc.).<\/p>\n

The Cover<\/em><\/strong> by Jakubowicz is rather dark for my taste, and I\u2019m not sure that the blue colour-blocks set it off that well.
\nThe Interior artwork<\/em><\/strong> is by the same two artists as last issue, and the bulk of it is by Maeve Gilmore for the Selling serial.3<\/sup>\u00a0Only two of the short stories are illustrated; one is signed by Cawthorn. The thumbnail sketches for the editorial, books and letters columns have been changed: the attractive sketches have been\u00a0replaced by boring planets:<\/p>\n

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

A Rare Event<\/em><\/strong> isn\u2019t credited and, as Moorcock\u2019s picture isn\u2019t at the top of the page anymore, perhaps this one is by Langdon Jones. Who knows? It starts with a description of the 1957 World SF Convention in London:<\/p>\n

Only once before has a World Science Fiction Convention been held in Britain. This was in 1957 at London\u2019s Kings Court Hotel. It was attended by hundreds of SF enthusiasts, publishers, writers, editors and artists from all over the world\u2014there were even a few from behind the Iron Curtain. John W. Campbell was the Guest of Honour and amongst the American personalities were H. Beam Piper, Bob Silverberg. Harry Harrison, Ray Nelson, Sam Moskowitz, Forrest Ackerman and others. Well known British writers were there in strength\u2014Wyndham, Clarke, Eric Frank Russell, Aldiss, Ballard, Sellings, John Christopher. Tubb, Bulmer, Brunner, James White and, of course. John Carnell. It was an exciting affair and it gave many readers a chance to meet their favourite authors for the first time for\u2014as always\u2014it was informal.\u00a0 p. 2<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

The writer goes on to plug the 23rd<\/sup> Worldcon, which is once again being held in London in August (1965), as well as mentioning the Easter BSFA convention in Birmingham. There are a couple of other notes as well, so it is housekeeping this month, not proselytising.
\nLast issue I mentioned that I expected the science essay to be the usual dry stuff: it wasn\u2019t but the two in this issue are. The first essay, Biological Electricity<\/em><\/strong>, has this:<\/p>\n

In, 1963, scientists of the General Electric Company\u2019s Space Sciences Laboratory at Valley Forge, Pennsylvania, demonstrated the use of biological electricity in a simple, painless experiment with a laboratory rat. They implanted electrodes into the rat\u2019s abdominal cavity. A current of 155 microwatts generated by the rat\u2019s body was led from those electrodes by a thin insulated wire through the skin and used to power a radio-transmitter.\u00a0 p. 102<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

Painless for the scientists.
\nThe second one, Can Spacemen Live with Their Illusions?<\/em><\/strong>, is by \u201cScience Horizons\u201d, whoever they are.4<\/sup>
\nThe Cosmic Satirist<\/em><\/strong> by Michael Moorcock (rave) reviews The Naked Lunch<\/em> by William Burroughs (I\u2019m surprised this doesn\u2019t appear under Moorcock\u2019s own name). He has this to say to readers who are uncertain about attempting the book:<\/p>\n

The reader who likes a book with a \u201cbeginning, a middle and an end\u201d need not be in the least alarmed by The Naked Lunch<\/em>. I am much more inclined towards the conventional novel myself. I certainly do not welcome novelty for novelty\u2019s sake, nor obscenity for obscenity\u2019s sake\u2014I find most of the fiction produced under the label of \u201cbeat\u201d and \u201cavant-garde\u201d boring and pretentious, disguising bad, undisciplined writing under a superficial cloak of equally bad and undisciplined \u201cexperimental\u201d styles. Just as the Buck Rogers brigade of SF writers bring SF into disrepute, so do these so-called experimental writers bring the handful of genuine innovators into disrepute. The simple fact with Burroughs is that he can write. He can write better than anybody else at work today. He has an ear for dialogue, an eye for reality, an ability to conjure up phantasmagoric visions that immediately capture the imagination, a powerful, uncompromising style that rips away our comforting delusions and displays the warts and the sores that can fester in the human mind. Not a pleasant vision at first, yet we are soon captured by Burroughs\u2019s deadpan style which aids us to look upon the horrors without revulsion, and take, instead, a cool, objective look at perversion in all its states and forms\u2014mental, physical and spiritual.\u00a0 p. 116-117<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

I\u2019m not entirely sure why a quote from Limbo 90<\/em> (by Bernard Wolfe) follows this, nor is the next quote from the book itself (a description of the city of Interzone) particularly appealing.
\nThe rest of Moorcock\u2019s reviews are in Silver Collections<\/em><\/strong>, and find him in a less dyspeptic mood than last issue.
\nDid Elric Die in Vain?<\/em><\/strong> by Alan Forrest is a long review of Stormbringer<\/em> by Michael Moorcock, and reminded me of how different the \u2018Elric\u2019 stories were, with their physically weak anti-hero and his malevolent sword.
\nHardly SF<\/em><\/strong> by Hilary Bailey is the final review essay, and it makes its titular point about Who?<\/em> by Algis Budrys.
\nLetters to the Editor<\/em><\/strong> includes a long letter from Peter J. D. Matthews of Yeovil, Somerset, where he charts what he suggests is a decrease in the quality in Bradbury\u2019s work from The Silver Locusts<\/em> (The Martian Chronicles<\/em>) through Fahrenheit 451<\/em> and Golden Apples of the Sun<\/em>. He goes on to say that Ballard and Moorcock are on the same slippery slope:<\/p>\n

With each successive story he is plunging at the moment, except that Equinox<\/em> and The Drowned World<\/em> are almost identical. The editor, who, as far as I know, first rose to prominence in the fantasy field, for a time seemed to be graduating to SF, but now seems to be following Bradbury and Ballard, that is if Goodbye Miranda<\/em> is anything to judge by.
\nBasically the fault seems to be that there is a trend for authors to attempt to appeal to the emotions directly with word pictures\u2014a job for the poets in my opinion\u2014rather than writing a story and letting the story do its work on the emotions or the intellect. Go back to the old days, the blood-curdling days of the Vargo Statten Magazine<\/em> etc. What so you find? Clean-cut stories, painted with broad, crudely aimed strokes of the pen, but stories. Write stuff like that, only better, to suit a more adult readership\u2014throw in a good percentage of more serious stuff (the first half of Blish\u2019s A Case of Conscience<\/em> is the sort of thing I mean) and I\u2019ll buy monthlies filled with that, faster than you can print them!\u00a0 p. 125-126<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

The editorial reply:<\/p>\n

We agree, and have always agreed, that there is a place for the good, intelligent action story in SF and we should never miss the chance of publishing any we receive. But, it seems, the trend away from this kind of writing involves the authors\u2014 old and new\u2014as well as the readers. Certainly this is true of this country. The more popular British SF writers such as Wyndham, Christopher, Aldiss and Ballard, have appealed perhaps because they have placed the accent on character and so on, rather than on the action element.
\nIt has often occurred to us that if it had not been for the necessity of selling to what was essentially a pulp-magazine field the work of Asimov, Clarke and others might have been that much better. We also endorse your view that SF could currently do with a few more good, straightforward craftsmen, as well as writers of the more thoughtful kind.\u00a0 p. 126<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

The next letter, from John R. Orr, Emsworth, Hants., hopes for stories from Philip E. High, as well as more \u2018Hek Belov\u2019 stories from Edward Mackin. The editors say that High is concentrating on novels for the US market but that they have a long Hek Belov story coming up . . . oh dear, it\u2019s at times like this I wish they were more<\/em> ruthless with the old guard.
\nThere is a Next Month<\/em><\/strong> filler at the end of the letter column which trails a new story from J. G. Ballard called Dune Limbo<\/em> (actually an extract from his new novel The Drought<\/em>).
\nThere are no Story Ratings<\/em> in this issue due to the change of publication schedule to monthly.5<\/sup>
\nFinally, I think I once again see Moorcock doing a spot of collecting in the Advertisements<\/em><\/strong>:<\/p>\n

CHARLES L. HARNESS\u2014anything in magazines. Some CORDWAINER SMITH in magazines. Also books written or illustrated by Mervyn Peake. Details to Advertiser, Box 826, NWSF. 17, Lake House, Scovell Rd. London, S.E.l.\u00a0 p. 128<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

Overall, this is an average to mediocre issue, but it isn\u2019t the worst one so far (#145).\u00a0 \u25cf<\/p>\n

_____________________<\/p>\n

1. Graham Hall\u2019s review starts off with a comment about how the increased production schedule will no doubt cause \u201ca drop in the standard of material, but that is not [yet] overtly noticeable\u201d.
\nHe likes the cover, thinks it looks like Powers, and is the magazine\u2019s best yet. He was disappointed with the science fact articles.
\nAs for the fiction, the Sellings has an irritating passage at the beginning (unspecified) but finishes with a \u201cremarkable and high-standard ending.\u201d He adds that the work is \u201cmildly amusing, well-written but with that so frequent tendency of serials\u2014a disappointing middle.\u201d
\nThe Baxter story is \u201cgood [but has] well treated second-hand, not new, [ideas]\u201d while Hamilton\u2019s piece is \u201cpointless\u201d and clich\u00e9d. Collyn\u2019s piece has \u201ca plot of van Vogtian complexity\u201d but is \u201cbadly constructed.\u201d Hall adds, \u201cThis \u2018characterisation\u2019 takes some beating. Holds out through some good ideas, a lot of bad writing and finally turns out to be the good old time paradox theme done up. Poorest item in the magazine.\u201d
\nThe Colvin has some good description but Hall would have preferred a more original idea. Wilson, \u201cone of the few consistently good writers\u201d contributes a piece that is \u201cvery extrapolatory and might well prove visionary.\u201d
\nAs for the non-fiction, Hall says that \u201cweight is made\u201d with the Book Reviews<\/em> before describing the Letters<\/em> column as \u201cshort and uninspiring\u201d. He does not like the illustrations for the serial, saying that they are \u201cchildish scribblings\u2014there isn\u2019t a fanzine in the country that prints worse.\u201d
\n\u201cAn issue treading water.\u201d<\/p>\n

2. The book version of Selling\u2019s novella changed the title from The Power of Y<\/em> to The Power of X<\/em> (a backward move I felt . . . boom, tish<\/em>). The novella is ~28,000 words and the novel is ~43,000 words, so it is a considerable expansion. One thing I noted is that the book version dumps the novella introduction about Afford wanting to be President of the USE and starts in his art gallery (a good move).<\/p>\n

3. The artwork for the Selling serial is uncredited but\u00a0 I think it is by Gilmore as it is of the same style as the artwork for I Remember Anita<\/em> in #144, and New Worlds<\/em> only seems to be using her, Thomson and Cawthorn for illustrations.<\/p>\n

4. There aren\u2019t\u00a0any more of these science articles in the next few issues, so it looks like it was a short-lived experiment (boom, tish<\/em>, again!).<\/p>\n

5. The story ratings for this issue appeared in #149:<\/p>\n

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

I\u2019d have gone with Wilson, Moorcock (Colvin), Hamilton as the top three. I note that the longest piece is in first place (again) and the second longest in second.\u00a0 \u25cf<\/p>\n\"rss\"<\/a>\"rss\"<\/a><\/span>","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

ISFDB link Other reviews:1 Graham Hall, Vector #31 (March 1965) _____________________ Editor, Michael Moorcock; Assistant Editor, Langdon Jones Fiction: The Power of Y (Part 2 of 2) \u2022 novella serial by Arthur Sellings \u2217 More Than a Man \u2022 short story by John Baxter \u2217 When the Skies Fall \u2022 short story by John Hamilton […]<\/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":[4],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-5191","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-new-worlds"],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p6Pcj7-1lJ","jetpack-related-posts":[],"jetpack_likes_enabled":true,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/sfmagazines.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/5191","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=5191"}],"version-history":[{"count":5,"href":"https:\/\/sfmagazines.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/5191\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":5248,"href":"https:\/\/sfmagazines.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/5191\/revisions\/5248"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/sfmagazines.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=5191"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/sfmagazines.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=5191"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/sfmagazines.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=5191"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}