Fantastic V12n05 (1963
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In May Come along on an unchartered trip to: EASTER ISLAND The ancient puzzle of the stone statues of Easter Island is re- vealed in an intriguing tale by prize- winning author Henry Slesar. What strange link con- nected the statues with an un- gainly, super-strong backwoods youth? What was the meaning of the weird metallic disc? Un- cover all the unbelievable an- swers in Jobo. LEIGH BRACKETT, one of the great names of science fiction, returns to the field after a long absence. The Road to Smharat is a brilliant blending of action and adven- ture, seasoned with the irresistible spices of the mysteries hidden on an alien planet. Also in this issue : Ben Bova’s article exploring the possi- bilities for the evolution of intelligent life in the Universe. Read them all in May Amazing. Now on sale. FANTASTIC, Stories of Imagination, Vol. 12, No. 5, May 1963, is published monthly by Ziff-Davis Publishing Company, at 434 South Wabash Avenue, Chicago 5, Illinois. Subscrip- tion rates: One year United States and possessions $4.00; Canada and Pan American Union Countries $4.50; all other foreign countries $5.00. Second Class postage paid at Chicago, Illinois and at addilional mailing offices. MAY 1963 FANTASTIC Volume 12 Number 5 STORIES OF IMAGINATION REG. U. S. PAT. OFF NOVELETS THE MESSAGE ZIFF-DAVIS PUBLISHING COMPANT By Edward Wellen 34 William B. Ziff, Chairman ot the Board (1946-1953) ANYTHING FOR LAUGHS By Ron Goulart 72 William Ziff, President W. Bradford Briggs, Executive Vice SHORT STORIES President DEVILS IN THE WALLS Hershel B. Sarbin, Vice President and By John Jakes 6 General Manager THE CLOUD OF HATE M. T. Birmingham, Jr„ Vice President and Treasurer By Fritz Leiber 21 THRESHOLD OF THE PROPHET Robert P. Breeding, Circulation Di- rector By Roger Zelazny 67 Charles Housman, Financial Vice ONE FALSE STEP President By David R. Bunch 90 Stanley B. Greenfield, Vice President THE SCREAMS OF THE WERGS Phillip T. Heffeman. Vice President By Jay Scotland 96 PROFESSOR JONKIN'S CANNIBAL PLANT (Fantasy Classic) Editorial Director By Howard R. Garis 112 NORMAN M. LOBSENZ LOVE STORY By iMurence M. Janifer .... 123 Editor VIGNETTE GOLDSMITH CELE MONOLOGUE FOR TWO By Harrison Denmark 110 FEATURES Ziff-Davis Publishing Company ACCORDING TO YOU 4 Editorial and Executive Offices EDITORIAL One Park Avenue 5 New York 16, New York COMING NEXT MONTH 95 ORegon 9-7200 Cover: Vernon Kramer Advertising Manager, Martin Gluekman Illustrating Devils in the Walls SUBSCRIPTION SERVICE: All subscription corre- spondence should be addressed to FANTASTIC, Cir- Midwestern and Circulation Office Department. 434 434 South Wabash Avenue culation South Wabash Avenue, Chi- cago. Illinois. Please allow at least six weeks for Chicago 5, Illinois address. Include your old address, as well WAbash 2-4911 change of as new—enclosing if possible an address label from a recent issue. Western Office EDITORIAL CONTRIBUTIONS must be accompanied 9025 Wilshlre Boulevard by return postage and will be handled with reasonable Beverly Hills, California care: however publisher assumes no responsibility for CRestvIew 4-0265 return or safety of art work, photographs or manuscripts. Copyright © 7963 by Ziff-Davis Publishing Company. All rights reserved. 3 According to you... Dear Editor: I am quite sure that if some of I think it’s about time I took his greatest antagonists just sides in the Bunch controversy. once sat down and read a story I’m all for him. He’s a great wri- by him with an open mind, they ter. Previous to this, I admit, I would realize the quality and im- have been quite impartial to his portance of his writings. stuff. His first few stories, I re- Bob Adolfsen call, interested me, but I became 9 Prospect Ave. quite bored with later ones ; also, Sea Cliff, N.Y. degradations of him by others • That’s what we’ve been say- affected my thinking. ing all along. The controversy died down for a while, as did Mr. B’s contribu- Dear Miss Goldsmith: tions, but now that he’s back T. C. Lethbridge, in “Ghost and again, I feel I must comment. Ghoul” in your January issue, of- The thing that many readers fers ideas which your editorial re- seem to object to in Bunch is his fers to as “Lethbridge’s theo- style of writing. I know I’m not ries.” Those same old ideas have qualified to go into that in any been continually offered, time depth, but I can say—it is after time for years, by a host of unique, or as close to being so as writers with the misconception anything I have ever read. The that they are original. typical reader has fallen into a Lethbridge’s comment, “The stereotyped, patterned way of way we have been brought up to thinking and reading, and being look at the world may be entirely too lazy to change his ways, he fictitious,” is a gem marred only rebels at anything revolutionary. by timidity in the phrase “may Therefore, he doesn’t like Bunch. (Continued on page 127) 4 F late is still better than never, we’d like to I take a few inches of space to call your atten- tion to a collection of Bob Bloch’s fan magazine writings which was published a few months ago by Advent: Publishers. Titled The Eighth Stage of Fandom, the book “pickles for poster- ity” the outpourings of 25 years of comedy, vitriol, satire, argument, and just plain obser- vations of Bob Bloch, sf fan. Perhaps the quickest way to give you a brief idea of the contents is to mention just a few of the titles of the essays: Gafia House, Mc- Guffey’s First SF Reader, The Demolishel Fan, How to Attend an SF Convention, and From Hubbub Horizontal. There are also some Bloch- ian poems, including the famous Non-Lewis Carol. As Bloch says in his preface : “A profes- EDITORIAL sional writer is a man who writes for money and believes that only an idiot gives away his work for nothing. Shake hands with an idiot.” But if you read the book (available from Advent, P.O. Box 9228, Chicago 10, 111., for $1.95), you will wish everyone was Bloch’s kind of idiot. * * * HEN they tell you that electronic computers are getting increas- Wingly sophisticated, they aren’t just blowing out air, boy. Stan- ford University scientists now have one—called Madaline, by the way—that has learned to get along with its own handicaps and prob- lems. Madaline was built to take in data and figure out for itself what it is supposed to find out from the data, without being programmed in machine language for the specific problem. It is an attempt to de- velop machines that can think for themselves after being given a basic grounding in the facts of electronic life. Such adaptability is vital in space-rocket systems, for example, where the malfunction of a single switch can ruin a multi-million-dollar test. When Madaline was first put together she contained—on purpose —parts that didn’t function, or didn’t function properly: short cir- cuits, open circuits, bollixed-up wiring etc. Still, when Madaline was turned on, she worked just fine. Which is more than we can usually manage to do. —NL 5 eui L JOHN WJL JAKES 6 7 Evil glistened on the ruined turrets. Leprous laugh- ter shrieked in Brak’s ears. Shrugging, the barbar- ian shambled on to meet the Devils in the Walls. HAT am I bid?” cried the shouldered man, naked save for Wauctioneer of the slave mar- a garment of lion’s hide about ket. “What am I bid for this yel- his hips, fell atop the auctioneer low-headed barbarian fresh- and choked the breath from him caught on the road which leads in a space of seconds. down from the high steppes?” But Brak was not destined to Before anyone in the crowd gain his revenge just then. Up could make an offer, Brak formed from behind the pillar rushed a a loop of the chains which held crowd of the bullies who tended him fast to the stone pillar. With the town’s now-empty slave pens. a lunge he fastened the iron loop They carried leather lashes. They about the neck of the auctioneer. swung them with considerable There was a terrible fury in his pleasure. At the end of another gigantic body. He had been rid- moment, Brak had been whipped ing peacefully through the cool close to blindness. He slumped morning air of the plain a few against the stone pillar as the leagues from this accursed vil- auctioneer tottered to his feet, lage when the slavers set upon re-arranged his robes, massaged him. Even now he could see the his throat and delivered a vicious crafty face of the leader of the kick to the guts of the fallen slavers, a weasel named Zaldeb, warrior. off there among the gawkers. Brak lurched forward on Well, thought Brak as he tight- hands and knees, blood dripping ened the chains and dragged the from a dozen lash-marks in his auctioneer threshing to the con- back. He felt sick, humiliated. crete at the base of the pillar, I “See how he struggles!” cried took four of Zaldeb’s hirelings the auctioneer. “A veritable de- before they broke my broad- mon out of the wild lands to the sword and slew my pony, I can north. He told the worthy Zaldeb take one jackal more before 1 he was bound to seek his fortune die .