{"id":8860,"date":"2018-10-21T13:47:34","date_gmt":"2018-10-21T13:47:34","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/sfmagazines.com\/?p=8860"},"modified":"2018-10-24T21:06:29","modified_gmt":"2018-10-24T21:06:29","slug":"astounding-science-fiction-v30n06-february-1943","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/sfmagazines.com\/?p=8860","title":{"rendered":"Astounding Science-Fiction v30n06, February 1943"},"content":{"rendered":"

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

_____________________<\/p>\n

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

Fiction:
\nThe Weapon Makers<\/em><\/strong> (Part 1 of 3) \u2022 serial by A. E. van Vogt \u2217\u2217\u2217+<\/strong>
\nFlight into Darkness<\/em><\/strong> \u2022 novelette by J. Francis McComas [as by Webb Marlowe] \u2217<\/strong>\u2217<\/strong>+
\nMimsy Were the Borogoves<\/em><\/strong> \u2022 novelette by Henry Kuttner and C. L. Moore [as by Lewis Padgett] \u2217<\/strong>\u2217<\/strong>\u2217<\/strong>\u2217<\/strong>
\nThe Man in the Moon<\/em><\/strong> \u2022 short story by Henry A. Norton [as by Henry Norton] \u2217<\/strong>\u2217<\/strong>+
\nOpposites\u2014React!<\/em><\/strong> (Part 2 of 2) \u2022 serial by Jack Williamson [as by Will Stewart] \u2217<\/strong>\u2217<\/strong>
\nProbability Zero:
\nBlue Ice<\/em><\/strong> \u2022 short story by Henry Kuttner –
\nEfficiency <\/em><\/strong>\u2022 short story by Malcolm Jameson [as by Colin Keith] –
\nNoise is Beautiful!<\/em><\/strong> \u2022 short story by Fox B. Holden –
\nThe Anecdote of the Movable Ears <\/em><\/strong>\u2022 short story by L. Sprague de Camp –<\/p>\n

Non-fiction:
\nCover <\/em><\/strong>\u2022 by William Timmins
\nInterior artwork<\/em><\/strong> \u2022 by William Kolliker (x6), Frank Kramer (x5)
\nThe Silver Lining<\/em><\/strong> \u2022 editorial by John W. Campbell, Jr.
\nIn Times to Come
\nGod\u2019s Footstool<\/em><\/strong> \u2022 science essay by Malcolm Jameson
\nThe Analytical Laboratory: December 1942
\nBrass Tacks<\/em><\/strong> \u2022 letters<\/p>\n

_____________________<\/p>\n

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The first part of The Weapon Makers<\/em><\/strong> by A. E. van Vogt has Neelan coming back to Earth from an asteroid at the other side of the solar system. He has come home to the find out how his brother Gil died but, when he arrives, there is no record of his brother\u2019s death. . . .\u00a0His investigations take him to his brother\u2019s last address, where he finds out from the landlady that Gil never stayed overnight in his room, and left a year ago. Later, Neelan goes to see a professor at the Eugenics Building (a childhood connection) who discreetly makes a suggestion:<\/p>\n

\u201cWhy don\u2019t you,\u201d said Professor Rayburn, \u201ctry the Weapon Shops? It is not generally known, but they have an Information Center that has no equal. And now good-by and good luck.\u201d
\nHe turned away, without looking at Neelan, and busied himself with papers on a side desk.
\nNeelan\u2019s mind was still jumping as he reached the street. Because he hadn\u2019t known. He thought: \u201cAnd I believed they only sold guns. I should have known. Why, I\u2019ve been all over the solar system, been in several of their shops, had long conversations with that fellow on Europa\u2014\u201d
\nHe felt torn; his personal despair yielded briefly to a sense of immense things, the utter tremendousness of the Weapon Makers establishment, with its stores existing in tens of thousands of cities and towns in the far-flung Isher Empire, an independent, outlawed, indestructible, altruistic opposition to tyranny.\u00a0 p. 13<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

The tyranny mentioned is that of the House of Isher\u2019s malevolent Empress, of who more later.
\nNeelan goes to one of the Weapon Makers\u2019 shops, and we get a variant of one of the scenes from the earlier story The Weapon Shop<\/em> (Astounding<\/em>, December 1942),1<\/sup> but with a different result:<\/p>\n

The Weapon Shop was in a glade of green and floral vegetation; it made a restful, idyllic picture between two giant buildings. The great, universal sign of the store told its old, old story to all who cared to see:
\n.<\/span>
\nTHE RIGHT TO BUY WEAPONS IS THE RIGHT TO BE FREE
\n.<\/span>
\nThe window sign was the same, too, as in all the shops he had seen. The letters were smaller, but the words were just as positive:
\n.<\/span>
\nTHE FINEST ENERGY WEAPONS IN THE KNOWN UNIVERSE
\n.<\/span>
\nNeelan stood very still, staring at the gleaming display of revolvers and rifles. It wasn\u2019t that there was anything new here. For years he had carried one of those marvelous, defensive guns. The weapon was in place now, fitted snugly in its holster under his left shoulder.
\nSeven times, in the days when he had lived by his remarkable gambling luck, that supergun had flashed its abnormal power. No, definitely it wasn\u2019t the newness. The only thing was\u2014
\nThe very sight of a Weapon Shop always gave him an eerie sensation. It required a distinct mental reaching to realize that every Weapon Shop was an impregnable fort, and that bloodily earnest attempts had been made by the Isher government in long-gone years to smash the entire organization\u2014unreal picture, amazingly hard to visualize.
\nNeelan shook himself, and walked toward the door. It wouldn\u2019t open. He tugged at it, startled, thinking: Was it possible that the sensitive door was condemning him because he had so recently come from a government institute? Report said the door worked by thought; and no enemy of the Weapon Shops, no servant of the Empress Isher, was ever admitted. It\u2014
\nIt opened gently like a flower unfolding its petals, only faster. It was weightless in his fingers, like some supernally delicate structure insubstantial. And when he stepped through the opening, it crowded his heels without touching them, and closed behind him silent as a night in space.\u00a0 p. 13<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

After Neelan speaks to man inside, the latter manages to get Gil\u2019s last work address, but asks Neelan to let them investigate. However, after Neelan leaves the shop he gets a job interview\u2014and it is at the same address, so he decides to go after leaving a note for the professor.
\nMatters rapidly become more perilous for Neelan. He goes to the address and finds, after being held at gunpoint by a man called Greer, that the building contains a huge (and later we find, very advanced) spaceship, half the length of which is in an underground shaft.<\/p>\n

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In a parallel story thread we are then introduced to another character, Captain Hedrock, an immortal who is\u00a0a third party\u00a0who acts as a liaison between the Weapon Shops and the Empress of Isher. In his room at the palace he watches a spy-ray showing the Empress condemning him to death, and ordering his hanging after lunch. He then consults with the Weapon Shop High Council, and their no-man Edward Gonish. When Gonish cannot provide any guidance, he decides to attend the meal. There is much verbal sparring at the lunch, which ends when Hedrock states the Weapon Shops can predict the death moment of any person: he tells General Lister that he will die imminently, and then\u00a0materialises an invisible gun from his ring. The weapon\u2019s vibrations cause the General\u2019s death, but no-one but Hedrock knows what has killed him. The Empress subsequently changes her mind about Hedrock\u2019s execution but he is arrested again before he can leave the palace.<\/p>\n

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Meanwhile, Greer agrees to let Neelan have the job on the ship but tells him that he cannot leave, and supervises him at gun-point. Neelan learns that Greer plans on selling the ship to the Empress, and that he marooned Gil and the team who developed the spaceship on an alien planet during a test flight.
\nNeelan soon uses his technical knowledge to overcome and restrain Greer but he can\u2019t make him reveal the whereabouts of his brother, so he goes out to get a Lambeth mind-controller. Shortly after he leaves the ship he is snatched off the street and taken to the palace.<\/p>\n

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Neelan shortly finds himself in front of the Empress of Isher. She wants Neelan to kill Greer. They give him a projectile gun, an invisibility device, and a telestat so they can watch him. If he does not do as she wants he will die.
\nThis is fast paced and absorbing first half, with what looks like more super-science entertainment to come.2<\/sup><\/p>\n

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Flight into Darkness<\/em><\/strong> by J. Francis McComas3<\/sup> is a story that is a thinly veiled look at a defeated Germany after the War\u2014although the country is never explicitly named there are references to a \u201cLeader\u201d and eugenics, and there is this when an oblivious secretary leaves the villain in his office one night:<\/p>\n

\u201cDon\u2019t stay late, sir. You\u2019ve been working awfully hard lately.\u201d
\n\u201cNow, now,\u201d he said. \u201cYou run along and don\u2019t worry about me. You must enjoy yourself\u2014not think of an old man like me.\u201d
\nShe shook her curly head.
\n\u201cYou\u2019re not old, doctor.\u201d
\nShe smiled again as she went out. Linkman heard the office door slide shut behind her. The benevolent look was replaced by a scowl.
\n\u201cLittle flirt,\u201d he grated. \u201cWomen in industry\u2014bah! Their place is in the home, bearing children for the race!\u201d He shrugged. \u201cAh, well. That, too, will change.\u201d p. 43<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

The man is Linkman, a civilianised ex-general from the defeated nation who has been put put in charge of a post-war aviation factory. His own men are in key positions, and they start building a spaceship designed by his younger (and disabled) brother. These diehards will go to Venus or Mars (with a\u00a0number of women) and start a colony there, and return to Earth one day for vengeance.
\nMeanwhile, one of the (presumably Allied) psychiatrists briefs Oliver (who is in charge of the occupying administration) and General Mac (who channels\u00a0General Patton throughout the story) about the questionable results of Linkman\u2019s psyche profile\u2014but Oliver refuses to start an investigation.
\nLinkman\u2019s project progress; spies are killed. Oliver himself disappears, kidnapped by Linkman\u2019s goons. The story resolves when (spoiler) Linkman\u2019s brother discovers what is going on and frees Oliver. The spaceship launches, and Oliver atones by taking an aircraft up and ramming it, killing himself in the process.
\nFor the most part this isn\u2019t a bad piece, although the melodramatic ending spoils it a little. It is quite gloomy about the probable success of any post-war de-Nazification process. An interesting, if not entirely successful, piece.<\/p>\n

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Mimsy Were the Borogoves<\/em><\/strong> by Henry Kuttner and C. L. Moore starts off with a similar idea to their recent story The Twonky <\/em>(Astounding<\/em>, September 1942). In this one a man from millions of years in the future sends two experimental time machines back into the past, using his children\u2019s cast-off educational toys as ballast. One of the machines\u2014an odd looking box\u2014is found in 1942 by a seven-year old boy called Scott, who is playing hooky from school.<\/p>\n

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Initially the events in the story are those you would expect from an archetypal two parent, two child family situation and all that entails (the odd questions children ask, the illegible scribbles that Scott\u2019s two year old sister Emma writes\u2014which her brother can understand but the adults can\u2019t, etc.). Eventually the parents begin to notice the children\u2019s increasingly odd behaviour, especially their interactions with the strange toys:<\/p>\n

\u201cAny homework?\u201d
\n\u201cN-no,\u201d Scott said, flushing guiltily. To cover his embarrassment he took from his pocket a gadget he had found in the box, and began to unfold it. The result resembled a tesseract, strung with beads. Paradine didn\u2019t see it at first, but Emma did. She wanted to play with it.
\n\u201cNo. Lay off, Slug,\u201d Scott ordered. \u201cYou can watch me.\u201d He fumbled with the beads, making soft, interested noises. Emma extended a fat forefinger and yelped.
\n\u201cScotty,\u201d Paradine said warningly.
\n\u201cI didn\u2019t hurt her.\u201d
\n\u201cBit me. It did,\u201d Emma mourned.
\nParadine looked up. He frowned, staring. What in\u2014
\n\u201cIs that an abacus?\u201d he asked. \u201cLet\u2019s see it, please.\u201d
\nSomewhat unwillingly Scott brought the gadget across to his father\u2019s chair. Paradine blinked. The \u201cabacus,\u201d unfolded, was more than a foot square, composed of thin, rigid wires that interlocked here and there. On the wires the colored beads were strung. They could be slid back and forth, and from one support to another, even at the points of jointure. But\u2014a pierced bead couldn\u2019t cross interlocking wires\u2014
\nSo, apparently, they weren\u2019t pierced. Paradine looked closer. Each small sphere had a deep groove running around it, so that it could be revolved and slid along the wire at the same time. Paradine tried to pull one free. It clung as though magnetically. Iron? It looked more like plastic.
\nThe framework itself\u2014 Paradine wasn\u2019t a mathematician. But the angles formed by the wires were vaguely shocking, in their ridiculous lack of Euclidean logic. They were a maze. Perhaps that\u2019s what the gadget was\u2014a puzzle.\u00a0 p. 56-57<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

The couple later become so concerned about their children\u2019s behaviour that Paradine asks a psychologist colleague called Holloway for help. Holloway causes them more disquiet with his rambling (and rather unlikely, to be honest) speculations that the toys are from elsewhere in space or time, his musings on non-Euclidean space, and lectures on how children think differently. He does, however, recommend that the toys are taken away from the two children.
\nHowever, the children\u2019s thought processes have gone past a critical point, and Emma, the two year old, gets Scott to start collecting various objects for her:<\/p>\n

Scott kept bringing gadgets to Emma for her approval. Usually she\u2019d shake her head. Sometimes she would look doubtful. Very occasionally she would signify agreement. Then there would be an hour of laborious, crazy scribbling on scraps of note paper, and Scott, after studying the notations, would arrange and rearrange his rocks, bits of machinery, candle ends, and assorted junk. Each day the maid cleaned them away, and each day Scott began again.
\nHe condescended to explain a little to his puzzled father, who could see no rhyme or reason in the game.
\n\u201cBut why this pebble right here?\u201d
\n\u201cIt\u2019s hard and round, dad. It belongs there.\u201d
\n\u201cSo is this one hard and round.
\n\u201cWell, that\u2019s got vaseline on it. When you get that far, you can\u2019t see just a hard round thing.\u201d
\n\u201cWhat comes next? This candle?\u201d
\nScott looked disgusted. \u201cThat\u2019s toward the end. The iron ring\u2019s next.\u201d
\nIt was, Paradine thought, like a Scout trail through the woods, markers in a labyrinth. But here again was the random factor. Logic halted\u2014familiar logic\u2014at Scott\u2019s motives in arranging the junk as he did.
\nParadine went out. Over his shoulder he saw Scott pull a crumpled piece of paper and a pencil from his pocket, and head for Emma, who was squatted in a corner thinking things over.\u00a0 p. 68<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

There is another hint of what is coming (spoiler) in a later conversation between Paradine and Scott:<\/p>\n

That night, however, Scott evinced an interest, later significant, in eels.
\nThere was nothing apparently harmful in natural history. Paradine explained about eels.
\n\u201cBut where do they lay their eggs? Or do they?\u201d
\n\u201cThat\u2019s still a mystery. Their spawning grounds are unknown. Maybe the Sargasso Sea, or the deeps, where the pressure can help them force the young out of their bodies.\u201d
\n\u201cFunny,\u201d Scott said, thinking deeply.
\n\u201cSalmon do the same thing, more or less. They go up rivers to spawn.\u201d Paradine went into detail. Scott was fascinated.
\n\u201cBut that\u2019s right, dad. They\u2019re born in the river, and when they learn how to swim, they go down to the sea. And they come back to lay their eggs, huh?\u201d
\n\u201cRight.\u201d
\n\u201cOnly they wouldn\u2019t come back,\u201d Scott pondered. \u201cThey\u2019d just send their eggs\u2014\u201d
\n\u201cIt\u2019d take a very long ovipositor,\u201d Paradine said, and vouchsafed some well-chosen remarks upon oviparity.
\nHis son wasn\u2019t entirely satisfied. Flowers, he contended, sent their seeds long distances.
\n\u201cThey don\u2019t guide them. Not many find fertile soil.\u201d
\n\u201cFlowers haven\u2019t got brains, though. Dad, why do people live here?\u201d
\n\u201cGlendale?\u201d
\n\u201cNo\u2014here. This whole place. It isn\u2019t all there is, I bet.\u201d
\n\u201cDo you mean the other planets?\u201d
\nScott was hesitant. \u201cThis is only\u2014part\u2014of the big place. It\u2019s like the river where the salmon go. Why don\u2019t people go on down to the ocean when they grow up?\u201d
\nParadine realized that Scott was speaking figuratively. He felt a brief chill. The\u2014ocean?\u00a0 p. 67<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

Before the climax of the story there is a short section which details what happened to the first time machine\/box sent into the past: this has\u00a0a girl telling her Uncle Charles a nonsense rhyme she has made up. The two are Charles Dodgson (\u201cLewis Carroll\u201d), and Alice Pleasance Liddell (the Alice of Alice in Wonderland<\/em>): the poem later produced is Jabberwocky<\/em>.4<\/sup> This part sets up the\u00a0end of the story:<\/p>\n

Downstairs the telephone stopped its shrill, monotonous ringing. Paradine looked at the paper he held.
\nIt was a leaf torn from a book. There were interlineations and marginal notes, in Emma\u2019s meaningless scrawl. A stanza of verse had been so underlined and scribbled over that it was almost illegible, but Paradine was thoroughly familiar with \u201cThrough the Looking Glass.\u201d His memory gave him the words‍\u2014<\/span>
\n.<\/span>
\nTwas brillig, and the slithy toves
\nDid gyre and gimbel in the wabe.
\nAll mimsy were the borogoves,
\nAnd the mome raths outgrabe
\n.<\/span>
\nIdiotically he thought: Humpty Dumpty explained it. A wabe is the plot of grass around a sundial. A sundial. Time\u2014 It has something to do with time. A long time ago Scotty asked me what a wabe was. Symbolism.
\nTwas brillig\u2014<\/em>
\nA perfect mathematical formula, giving all the conditions, in symbolism the children had finally understood. The junk on the floor. The toves had to be made slithy\u2014vaseline?\u2014and they had to be placed in a certain relationship, so that they\u2019d gyre and gimbel.
\nLunacy!
\n<\/em>But it had not been lunacy to Emma and Scott. They thought differently. They used x logic. Those notes Emma had made on the page\u2014she\u2019d translated Carroll\u2019s words into symbols both she and Scott could understand. The random factor had made sense to the children. They had fulfilled the conditions of the time-span equation. And the mome raths outgrabe\u2014<\/em>
\nParadine made a rather ghastly little sound, deep in his throat. He looked at the crazy pattern on the carpet. If he could follow it, as the kids had done\u2014<\/span> But he couldn\u2019t. The pattern was senseless. The random factor defeated him. He was conditioned to Euclid.
\nEven if he went insane, he still couldn\u2019t do it. It would be the wrong kind of lunacy. His mind had stopped working now. But in a moment the stasis of incredulous horror would pass\u2014 Paradine crumpled the page in his fingers. \u201cEmma, Scotty,\u201d he called in a dead voice, as though he could expect no response.
\nSunlight slanted through the open windows, brightening the golden pelt of Mr. Bear. Downstairs the ringing of the telephone began again.\u00a0 p. 69<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

This is a story deserving of its classic status, for its transcendent ending if nothing else, although I note in passing that there are also some interesting and atypical (for SF) observations about children.5<\/sup> That said, it is a bit baggy in places (Holloway\u2019s comments are probably more discursive than the story needs) and, in general, feels longer than necessary.<\/p>\n

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The Man in the Moon<\/em><\/strong> by Henry A. Norton is an odd, atmospheric story about a strange man who turns up at an observatory with a 200-inch telescope and starts making a bench for his work. It has unusual properties:<\/p>\n

The bench was constructed from some plastic metal, rough and pitted, but solid-looking. As Ferris said afterward, it looked like the metal had been chewed into shape. Raven rubbed his hand reflectively over the surface and withdrew it at once.
\n\u201cNot a very level working plane, Sereda,\u201d he said.
\n\u201cIt will smooth itself,\u201d Sereda ventured.
\n\u201cWhat is it?\u201d asked Ferris, touching the bench gingerly. It had a curious feel, a faint resilience. Ferris had a momentary impression that the bench was feeling him, appraising him, as he touched it. Sereda mumbled something incomprehensible in answer to the question, and Raven announced it was time to get to work as though he were glad to dismiss the bench from his mind.
\nTrouble was, it wouldn\u2019t stay dismissed.
\nThe subject came up again the next night when Raven came in about nine. Ferris was up on the platform, and Sereda was in his corner on the main floor of the building.
\n\u201cHe must have polished on that bench all day,\u201d said Ferris in amusement. \u201cWe should turn him loose on some of the brass work. See how shiny he got it?\u201d
\n\u201cI saw it,\u201d Raven answered shortly.
\nBob Ferris looked at him in surprise. It was one of the few times he had ever heard Raven speak abruptly. He followed the direction of the older man\u2019s gaze. The astronomer was looking at Sereda\u2019s workbench. It looked small from that elevation, and every plane of it showed a reflection, as if light were striking it from every direction.\u00a0 p. 72<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

As matters progress, it becomes obvious (spoiler) that Sereda is not human. Throughout the story he is obsessed with light and, eventually, the head of the observatory convinces Sereda that he would have constant light on the moon, and he leaves. The moon then becomes brighter and brighter. . . .
\nThis doesn\u2019t entirely work as a story (the direction of travel changes after this last suggestion) but until that point it is, like the McComas story, an interesting piece, in this case because of Serada\u2019s strange obsessiveness.
\nIt has a nice, though inaccurate, last line, \u201cJust imagine, no more dark nights\u201d (presumably the moon would only shine brightly\u00a0on the nights that it is seen, i.e. dependent on phase and cloud cover).<\/p>\n

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The second part of Opposites\u2014React!<\/em><\/strong> by Jack Williamson does not get off to a good start. Anders and Ann spend more time together as they travel to the Invader\/seetee spaceship, during which we suffer from\u00a0more tin-eared dialogue: Anders now calls Ann (technically his adversary) \u201cbright-eyes\u201d, \u201cdarlin\u2019\u201d, and \u201cprecious\u201d as well as \u201cbeautiful\u201d and \u201cgorgeous\u201d. There is probably a SF convention drinking game to be had out of this\u2014you take turns reading the story aloud and have a drink at every endearment. Paramedics would need to be in attendance as you would get very, very drunk.
\nWhen Anders isn\u2019t all over Ann he fends off his first officer Protopov, who appears to be channelling his inner Cro-Magnon man.<\/p>\n

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Once they are within visual range of the Invader and Martian spaceships (this happens while Anders is having a platonic breakfast with Anne) Anders orders his gunners to open fire on the latter, as you would when there is no apparent movement and it does not seem a threat. This has the effect of driving it towards the Invader\/seetee ship, and there is a huge explosion when normal and seetee matter meet. This destroys the Martian ship and leaves the Invader with minor damage. After this dumb move, Anders and Ann (she has seetee handling experience, he does not) go across to the Invader ship, and the story picks up somewhat.
\nWhen the pair arrive there they note that the rusty looking side of the ship is normal material and safe to stand on (Ann uses a piece of wire to test it). They then find the normal side of the ship connects to the seetee side by way of a number of disks\u2014base plates\u2014and they find one of them missing, presumably cut away by Rob McGee. Ann tells Anders it will be dangerous to cut out another and, if he attempts this, he will be on his own\u2014she won\u2019t assist an Interplanet man.<\/p>\n

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Inside the ship they find a motionless spacesuited body:<\/p>\n

The searching beam of Anders\u2019 head lamp found the dim figure, where she pointed. It was near the mighty curve of the wall. The dead man wore bulky space armor, blackpainted. He sat on the floor, with steel-clad legs spread wide apart. His arms were closed fast around a massive iron bar, holding it upright. At the top of the bar, just above his dead helmet light, was the thick polished disk of a seetee bedplate.
\nThe sight was grotesque. Anders thought the dead man resembled some clumsy toy, embracing the stem of a queer metal mushroom. He choked back a shocked, mirthless laugh.
\nThe man in the black armor was really dead.
\nHis rigid, unnatural posture made that certain. With the slow escape of body heat from the suit, his flesh was probably already frozen nearly as hard as the iron stalk he supported.
\n\u201cIt isn\u2019t Cap\u2019n Rob.\u201d Ann\u2019s whisper had a shaky relief. \u201cBut who could it be? And why was he just sitting there, holding that thing in his arms?\u201d
\n\u201cS\u2019pose he\u2019s one of the men from the Martian,\u201d Anders said. \u201cMight be von Falkenberg, himself. He wanted one of those bedplates for a model, like your friend McGee. Prob\u2019ly intended to carry it out to his ship. Maybe weld it to the hull\u2014\u2019course he couldn\u2019t take it inside.\u201d
\nTheir lights probed upward.
\n\u201cThere\u2019s where he got it,\u201d Ann whispered suddenly. \u201cHe cut it out from under that ramp\u2014\u201d From the quiver of her breathless voiced he knew she shuddered. \u201cBut what killed him?\u201d
\n\u201cProb\u2019ly ran a hand cutting torch off his own battery pack,\u201d Anders suggested, \u201cUsed more juice than he thought. The bedplate has a couple of tons of mass, with that long stem. Maybe he forgot this permanent field. Anyhow, when he got the thing cut loose, he didn\u2019t have power left to lift it.\u201d
\nAnn\u2019s voice shivered. \u201cAnd he couldn\u2019t put it down!\u201d
\n\u201cNot without blowing himself through the roof.\u201d Anders stared at the figure in black. \u201cThe ramp was too high to lean it on, and he couldn\u2019t let the seetee part touch the floor. He just had to sit and hold it balanced on the stem, till his batteries gave out and his air unit quit. Waiting, maybe for his friends to come back. Only they didn\u2019t come.\u201d\u00a0 p. 108<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

Anne wants to leave the ship as she thinks it is a death trap but Anders perseveres, and Ann later has to grab him before he goes down an ore chute and is disintegrated. They come across more dead bodies, before finding Rob McGee wandering around in the depths of the ship (he is arrested but also saves Anders\u2019 life later by telling him about the ship\u2019s electrical rails.)
\nWhen the three of them finally exit the ship (spoiler) they see Ander\u2019s ship Challenger<\/em> very close, and it fires at them! Ander\u2019s first officer Protopov is really\u00a0Von Falkenberg, and his Martian men have taken over the ship.<\/p>\n

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

Anders is knocked unconscious during this attack and comes round to find Ann replacing the damaged batteries in his suit. They discuss the consequences of the Martian Reich taking the bed-plate, and then going on to Freedonia to destroy the Drake\u2019s operation. Ann reveals that Rob has told her that the Invader ship is a power plant that can wirelessly transmit energy. They also talk about the disappearance of the seetee people when the Invader planet hit the trans-Mars planet, etc.
\nOnce this data dump is over,\u00a0McGee returns. He tells them his ship was not destroyed but hidden. They leave for Freedonia, hoping they will get a chance to warn the Drakes.
\nWhen they eventually get close to Freedonia they see a blue flash\u2014Von Falkenberg\u2019s ship has hit one of the mines that the Drakes had put in place around the asteroid.
\nThe three land and meet the Drakes. McGee tells them all he has moved the alien ship so that he is the only one that can find it.
\nI think that, overall, this story is okay but one of its main weaknesses is the character of Anders, who is arrogant, dumb, and permanently moonstruck. Also, the story doesn\u2019t have the same strong narrative arc and ideas as Williamson\u2019s Legion of Time<\/em> (which shows the writer at the top of his game) and, as I\u2019ve said before, the rest of the field is improving around Williamson while he stands still.<\/p>\n

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

All the Probability Zero<\/em><\/strong> stories (brief tall tales) are awful, and a complete waste of four pages: I would rather look at adverts. In Blue Ice<\/em><\/strong> Kuttner tells a tall tale of a blind space navy crew going FTL to even the odds with the smugglers they are fighting (the smugglers can\u2019t see the light from their fluorescent tubes either as it can\u2019t catch up with them\u2014maybe they just need a relativity refresher); Keith\u2019s Efficiency<\/em><\/strong> has a spaceship fuel system making more fuel than it can use (all the upgrade components give more than a 100% increase in efficiency); Holdens\u2019 Noise is Beautiful!<\/em><\/strong> has a surgeon connecting a man\u2019s visual nerves to his auditory ones so he can see sound; The Anecdote of the Movable Ears <\/em><\/strong>by L. Sprague de Camp is a time travel story about a man being charged by an animal that is something between a mastodon and an elephant. The contrived ending is like a non-pun Feghoot. This last one was the most disappointing as I\u2019d hoped for better from him.<\/p>\n

The Cover <\/em><\/strong>by William Timmins is pretty average\u2014his best work would come later. The Interior artwork<\/em><\/strong> by William Kolliker and Frank Kramer perfectly illustrates the complaints in Brass Tacks. It just isn\u2019t very good, and too many of the illustrations have people from the 1940s parachuted into scenes with standard SF furniture (look at the hairstyle of the Empress, or the hat that Neelan wears in the illustrations for van Vogt\u2019s story for instance). The title page illustration for the Kuttner\/Moore is crude work.
\nThe Silver Lining<\/em><\/strong> by John W. Campbell, Jr. is an editorial about the many possible uses of silver in industrial processes, but adds that \u201cThe Silver Bloc\u201d6<\/sup> prevents its industrial use as they see it as a money substitute.
\nIn Times to Come <\/em><\/strong>has a big fat lie about next month\u2019s cover story coming from a new writer (it was written by Henry Kuttner and C. L. Moore):<\/p>\n

A new author takes first place in next month\u2019s issue\u2014Lawrence O\u2019Donnell\u2019s story, \u201cClash By Night,\u201dhas the cover plate.
\n[. . .]
\nAn excellent piece of action science-fiction for a first-timer, or an old-timer, for that matter. I\u2019ve said before that most top-notch science-fiction writers turn in top-notch material very soon after they start trying\u2014the first one, or the second or third, usually. It still holds. It would probably hold for a lot of people who\u2019ve never quite had the urging to try pounding out the yarn they had in mind.
\nI most deeply wish some of them would now. It\u2019s heartbreaking, though, to have someone write a lovely yarn like \u201cClash By Night,\u201d raise my hope of one new man to replace some of the men now in the army and navy\u2014and then find that, like O\u2019Donnell, he\u2019s about to enlist. O\u2019Donnell comes for the first time next month; I now find it\u2019s very apt to be his last for the duration. You can expect to hear from him again, though\u2014about the spring of 1944 is my personal guess!\u00a0 p. 39<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

I wonder if Campbell was doing this kind of thing (as with Probability Zero<\/em>) to encourage new writers.<\/p>\n

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

God\u2019s Footstool<\/em><\/strong> by Malcolm Jameson is an article on geodesic surveying, whether the Earth is an oblate spheroid, etc. Some of the essay is a little unclear, but it made me go and find a You Tube video of how Eratosthenes calculated the Earth\u2019s circumference,7<\/sup> and I also learned about an interesting surveying error that caused a dispute about the Texas\/Oklahoma border.8<\/sup>
\nThe Analytical Laboratory: December 1942 <\/em><\/strong>was discussed in the review of that issue.9<\/sup>
\nBrass Tacks<\/em><\/strong> has two interesting letters, both critical of the interior artwork. The first correspondent, Sam Salant, Brooklyn, NY, has this:<\/p>\n

Can it be that your interior artists have succumbed to the spell of Flash Gordon? Oh, those monsters! Kramer must work on heavy-duty sandpaper. Nothing else could give his drawings that rough-and-ready look that no comic strip is complete without. However, with the exception of the illustrations for \u201cNot Only Dead Men,\u201d Kramer\u2019s work in the November issue is definitely above par\u2014for him.
\nKolliker stands alone and aloof upon his rocky pinnacle. His work is not only scratchy but downright bad. His creations are still distinguished by their perpetual look of na\u00efve astonishment, as if they, too, were surprised at such magnificent incompetence.
\nThe cover was fairly well done, I thought except that it seemed to lack unity. A coherent painting has a greater virtue than one whose brush strokes are technically perfect. On the whole, the cover painting impressed me as being one which was not well thought out.
\nFinal Impressions on Art Work: Distinctly subpar. You need someone like Schneeman, who was not afraid to express himself in broad brush strokes. Finlay is out\u2014his work is too delicate. Wesso\u2019s work is stereotyped\u2014all his men are twins, and all his women are asinine.\u00a0 p. 92<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

He continues in an equally trenchant manner about the fiction:<\/p>\n

I regret that you have allowed yourself to drift into a pattern in the selection and layout of the material. The lead story is invariably excellent; \u201cOverthrow\u201d is no exception. These \u201cDawn of Great Promise\u201d stories are right in my personal groove. \u201cFour Little Ships\u201d comes in second, mostly because I liked the way Author Leinster handled a difficult idea. Third place is a scramble between \u201cNot Only Dead Men,\u201d \u201cMinus Sign and \u201cThe Gentle Pirates,\u201d with van Vogt skinning through. \u201cSand\u201d should be buried under some.
\nAbove all, Mr. Campbell, give us fewer ray guns, more Time paradoxes, less blood and thunder, more of Brass Tacks and, most of all, more emphasis on the social sciences and psychology. And, please, no more cowboy stories with Lensmen gallivanting around, shooting up the place, and raising general heck. I have had enough! War stories are all right, but kill as few as possible. Make the bullets go farther, and shoot fewer of \u2019em. But no parallels about Hitler. He stinks no matter what century you put him in.
\nMore de Camp, please. He can liven up many a dull day.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

The second long letter, from Arnold Greenhouse, Leavenworth, KS, is more reflective and starts by looking at the magazine\u2019s development since Campbell\u2019s appointment, giving a thumbs-up to everything apart from the interior artwork (Campbell pre-replies that change is coming). The rest of the letter gives a list of Greenhouse\u2019s best stories of 1942 (you can read most of it in the page image above for Opposites-React!<\/em>: his first three choices were Asylum<\/em> by A. E. van Vogt, There Shall Be Darkness<\/em> by C. L. Moore, and Beyond This Horizon<\/em> by Anson MacDonald\u2014referred to as MacDonald\/Heinlein at the end of the letter).<\/p>\n

This issue is more of a mixed bag than last month\u2019s but the van Vogt and Kuttner\/Moore are the highlights.\u00a0 \u25cf<\/p>\n

_____________________<\/p>\n

1. My review of Astounding<\/em>, December 1942, and The Weapon Shop<\/em> is here<\/a>.<\/p>\n

2. I\u2019ve only briefly glanced at the book version of The Weapon Makers<\/em>, but it seems entirely different from this one. In the book version Hedrock replaces Neelan in the scene in front of the Weapon Shop, before going inside to meet him!<\/p>\n

3. I didn\u2019t discover that \u201cWebb Marlowe\u201d was a pseudonym for J. Francis McComas (Anthony Boucher\u2019s future co-editor at F&SF<\/em>) until after I had read the story.<\/p>\n

4. Jabberwocky<\/em> can be read here<\/a>.<\/p>\n

5. As noted in the review of the last issue, Catherine Moore was pregnant around this time: one wonders to what extent the observations about children (and the anxiety about them growing up different) were informed by this. There is no mention of any children on Moore\u2019s Wikipedia page<\/a>.<\/p>\n

6. \u201cThe Silver Bloc\u201d is described on this Google Books page<\/a>.<\/p>\n

7. This YouTube video<\/a> explains how Eratosthenes calculated the circumference of the Earth over 2000 years ago.<\/p>\n

8. There is information about the Texas\/Oklahoma border dispute on this Texas State Historical Association page<\/a>.<\/p>\n

9. The Analytical Laboratory for this issue appeared in Astounding<\/em>, April 1943:<\/p>\n

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

I observed in a previous review that Lester del Rey\u2019s Nerves<\/em> got the first score of \u201c1.00\u201d I\u2019d seen. In this lab there is the first \u201cSpecial\u201d I\u2019ve seen, for Kuttner\/Moore\u2019s Mimsy Were the Borogoves<\/em>. I wonder how many more, if any, of those there were?\u00a0 \u25cf<\/p>\n

Edited 24th October 2108: minor changes to Neelan\/Greer part of <\/em>The Weapon Makers synopsis.<\/em><\/p>\n\"rss\"<\/a>\"rss\"<\/a><\/span>","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

ISFDB link Archive.org link _____________________ Editor, John W. Campbell Jr.; Assistant Editor, Catherine Tarrant Fiction: The Weapon Makers (Part 1 of 3) \u2022 serial by A. E. van Vogt \u2217\u2217\u2217+ Flight into Darkness \u2022 novelette by J. Francis McComas [as by Webb Marlowe] \u2217\u2217+ Mimsy Were the Borogoves \u2022 novelette by Henry Kuttner and C. […]<\/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-8860","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\/p6Pcj7-2iU","jetpack-related-posts":[],"jetpack_likes_enabled":true,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/sfmagazines.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/8860","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=8860"}],"version-history":[{"count":6,"href":"https:\/\/sfmagazines.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/8860\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":12860,"href":"https:\/\/sfmagazines.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/8860\/revisions\/12860"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/sfmagazines.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=8860"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/sfmagazines.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=8860"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/sfmagazines.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=8860"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}