In All the Universe

I can remember someone telling me, years ago when a child, that the universe was infinite. I didn't know what that word meant and my parents (and brothers!) luckily had lots of books about -- including a large dictionary. I looked up the word. It wasn't until I began to read voraciously at 12 or 13 that the word "infinite" began to take on meaning for me.

My brothers had a few science fiction paperbacks laying around in the early 60s and that, good readers, was my introduction to SF. One of the first books I ever remember reading was the compilation of stories published by Ballantine Books in 1962 (I had the second printing; the first was in 1955), entitled STAR Science Fiction Stories No. 3 (50-cents!). I absolutely devoured these wondrous stories, such as:

• It's Such a Beautiful Day, by Isaac Asimov;
• The Strawberry Window, by Ray Bradbury;
• The Deep Range, by Arthur C. Clarke;
• Alien, by Lester del Rey;
• Foster, You're Dead, by Philip K. Dick;
• Whatever Happened to Corporal Cuckoo? by Gerald Kersh;
• Dance of the Dead, by Richard Matheson;
• Any More At Home Like You? by Chad Oliver;
• The Devil On Salvation Bluff, by Jack Vance and
• Guinevere For Everybody, by Jack Williamson.

These, dear readers, are absolute bottom line stone blue all-star classic science fiction short stories written by geniuses in the art. I still have that paperback. It is kept in a glass case.

From there I can recall reading (and the copy of which I stole from my brother and possess to this very day -- and I am looking at now) the first paperback edition of the ground-breaking novel Dune by a little known author called Frank Herbert. This thick ACE paperback book, going for $1.25 in 1965, changed science fiction forever. Say what you will about the subsequent books, Dune was a benchmark in SF.

From there I was hooked. Any spare cash I spent on Matchbox cars (55-cents each at Bob's Toyland in Town & Country Village, Sacramento), monster models (Frankenstein, the Wolfman, the Mummy, all readily available for 98-cents -- plus tax = $1.02) and SF paperbacks. Star Trek became my favorite series. I owned every James Blish adaptation of the TV shows. I snatched the very last paperback copy of The Making of Star Trek by Stephen E. Whitfield from the hands of my (then) best friend Rick Back when his attention was momentarily diverted from the book rack.

I reveled in the Harry Harrison stories of The Stainless Steel Rat and The Deathworld Trilogy. I read every Asimov I, Robot story. I enjoyed Robert A. Heinlein's Starship Troopers but failed to grok his Stranger In A Strange Land for quite some time.

That led me into what some would call harder military SF, such as Joe Haldeman's Forever Wars and thence into two of my all-time favorite SF books:

• Alfred Bester's The Stars My Destination
• George RR Martin's Tuf Voyaging
  

I went so far as to purchase a private printing of Martin's Tuf Voyaging compilation that cost me -- well, let's just say it cost me.

Along the way I've enjoyed the Phaid the Gambler, Citizen Phaid and The Song of Phaid the Gambler series by Mick Farren, as well as When Gravity Fails and A Fire In the Sun, both by George Alec Effinger. The absolute toughest series to find (I defy you!) involves a horrible life form known as The Vang: The Military Form and The Vang: The Battlemaster, both by Christopher Rowley. Excellent, frightening books. Good luck.

Recently, I've read some SF novels that I would highly recommend:

• The John Scalzi series, Old Man's War;
• Robert Buettner's Orphanage and Orphan's Destiny.

Best current SF going: Death's Head by David Gunn. Wow. Wotta ride!

Which brings me back to my original rambling thought for this Sunday's post:

Infinite. Infinity. What is it? What does it mean? Could I even wrap my brain around the concept?

The answer then and now is: no. I cannot.

In my late teens and early 20s I would posit this inside my mind: Infinity. Never stops. Keeps going. Imagine there was a massive reach, a huge distance. Then there was a brick wall. Then what was BEYOND the brick wall?

How could this BE? How could there be something that goes and goes and goes and NEVER STOPS? It engaged my mind and then it exceeded my mind. Just as it does today.

Then there is the so-called "UFO" issue.

Photos tarted and maligned; clearly cheapened and staged. Obvious and poorly done. Then there is the Area 51 issue. And the Groom Lake issue.

And even now, this week:

One of the largest UFOs ever seen has been observed by the crew and passengers of an airliner over the Channel Islands.

An official air-miss report on the incident several weeks ago appears in Pilot magazine. Aurigny Airlines captain Ray Bowyer, 50, flying close to Alderney first spotted the object, described as "a cigar-shaped brilliant white light".

My question:

Is there life in the Universe other than that of our own?

I believe so.

BZ