The Year's Best Science Fiction 9

Ten years or more ago, John W. Campbell opened an editorial in (what was then) Astounding Science Fiction by stating that the first immortal man had probably already been born. His thesis was that medical science and biochemical research were advancing at a sufficient rate of acceleration so that death, at least by decay or disease, might be averted indefinitely.

Last year, in Worlds of Tomorrow, Frederik Pohl published an article by K. C. W. Ettinger, which began flatly: “Most of us now living have a chance for personal physical immortality,” and went on to argue the immediate feasibility of deep-freezing, at the instant of death, for re-vivification and treatment as soon as medical arts make it possible.

To me, the idea is no less staggering than, and in its way not too different from, the complete-opposite concept of Doomsday destruction. Everything in our psychology stems, I am convinced, from the essential drive of mortal man to survive the disintegration of his body: in the spirit (religion); in name (fame and power); in artifacts and products (art, science, the bulk of “civilization”); in a continuation of the flesh (children, family, clan, nation).

I was impressed by the exposition of this philosophy in “The Faces Outside.” I was more impressed when I found out it was the author’s first published story; and more again when he wrote me about himself.

The first part is a deceptively typical writer’s history: Has lived in Florida, Virginia, Italy. Now in California. Interested in “international relations, languages, all sciences, art, and writing.” Participated in recent sleep-deprivation experiments. Currently doing a study of “symbolism from the writer’s point of view, rather than the critic’s.” (Among seventy-odd authors: Aldiss, Budrys, Ellison, Golding, Heinlein, Leiber, McCarthy, Merril, Sturgeon.) One summer in Italy spent studying art at the Belle Arti Institute in Florence. Now supports himself in part, at Claremont Men’s College, by “doing ‘crazy’ drawings and paintings that scare enough people into buying.”

It is his first year at college. He is now seventeen. (The story was written two years ago.)

I do not know .whether Mr. McAllister has decided, yet, to want to live forever. But I think I do know in Dr. Biggie’s case. (No. Not medicine. Musicology.)