Who Goes There?

Richard McKenna was kind of an outsider, although this would only become apparent with hindsight. He had a long career in the navy before deciding to take up writing as his new profession, debuting in 1958 with the nominally fantastical (it’s not SF) “Casey Agonistes,” which drew on his military experience, but more importantly introduced a whimsical and rather offbeat voice to the field. Unfortunately he would only live to see six of his short stories published in his lifetime, dying unexpectedly in November 1964 at only 51 years old. He seemed to dedicate most of his writing energy to what would be his first and only novel, The Sand Pebbles, a historical novel which hinted at McKenna’s success as a mainstream writer; and indeed he lived to see it become a bestseller, although he sadly did not live long enough to see it get turned into a major motion picture starring Steve McQueen. Even had McKenna lived longer, writing SF was probably always gonna stay a side hustle for him at the most; and yet it’s hard to not think of what more he could’ve done had he been given more time. “They Are Not Robbed” is one of a half-dozen or so stories found in McKenna’s trunk after his death, and I have to assume he had finished it despite being it a bit overlong and overstuffed. It’s not perfect, but it has some standout qualities that indicate a possibly great talent gone too soon.

Placing Coordinates

First published in the January 1968 issue of The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction, which is on the Archive. It has only been reprinted in English once, in Uncollected Stars (ed. Piers Anthony, Martin H. Greenberg, Barry N. Malzberg, and Charles G. Waugh).

Enhancing Image

It’s circa 1980 and Earth has been invaded—sort of. The aliens are called Star Birds, for lack of a better name, since they don’t communicate verbally and they can be barely even perceived with the human eye. Rather than try to talk with humans directly the Star Birds have opted to hire “Agents,” who tend to be young women without friends or parents, these Agents being trained to understand the aliens. The thing is that these Agents, along with a small number of other people, have what is called Tau energy, which makes them kin to the aliens. Of course the problem is that people with this energy, the “Tau people,” are quickly treated as outcasts by the rest of the populace—not entirely for bad reasons, as Tau energy has reality-warping properties that could make it a real danger in the wrong hands. There’s no cultural exchange between the humans and aliens, although the aliens have left a kind of “gift” in several locations around the world, called “Purchasing Offices” which “bought raw neural energy or else recorded dynamic patterns of neural energy.” What the aliens gain by basically having people’s brains scanned is a mystery. A very old Aldous Huxley is the one famous person cited who volunteered one of these Purchasing Offices, and he did get paid for it, although the aliens seem to pay people who go to the Purchasing Offices different amounts arbitrarily.

I feel like I’m frontloading exposition here, but so does McKenna. It’s only fair. By the way, McKenna must’ve written this story prior to November 1963, as Huxley would die that month—incidentally on the same day as John F. Kennedy and C. S. Lewis. The implication is that McKenna had the story finished well before his death but was unable to sell it, I suspect for a few reasons. One is that “They Are Not Robbed” would’ve been a bit risqué for early ’60s SF, what with unambiguous references to sex and a touch of nudity, although by 1968 such softcore material was no longer so unusual in most markets. I also have to admit this is a very odd story, in a way that seemed to anticipate the New Wave, such that I have to wonder how McKenna would’ve done had he lived even five more years. The protagonist is also a fair bit different from what would’ve been the norm in the early ’60s, with Christopher Lane being a workingman and a bit of a slacker, who as of late has found himself in a weird quasi-polyamorous relationship with a vapid girl named Alma, who also seems to be in a relationship with a guy named Buckley. “Both Alma and Buckley worked in Sales at Acme. Once she had been Buckley’s girl, now she was somehow Lane’s, at least on Thursdays.” They’re not in a serious relationship, and while Alma’s not a bad person or anything she’s more there to kill time. Worth mentioning that despite taking place in the ’80s this story very much feels entrenched in Greenwich Village culture of the early ’60s, such that it must’ve almost felt like a time capsule even when it was published.

Even the coming of the Star Birds doesn’t shake up Lane’s life—at least not directly. But he gets to know one of their Agents, Martha, in a relationship that will come to dominate the story. This is a bit perplexing since Martha herself isn’t much of a character, which is at least partly by design given her position as an Agent. There’s clearly supposed to be a contrast between Alma’s hollow materialism and Martha’s mysticism, although I have to say neither woman is given that much development. Lane himself is not the most charismatic of leads either, so it’s a good thing the story isn’t really about him—it’s about the bigger picture. We’re given some insight into how Tau people are treated after the aliens have landed, which is to say very badly; it’s actually disturbing how quickly the general populace almost become a bunch of bloodthirsty mobs, with the lynch noose becoming a common symbol among anti-Tau people, like the cross for Christians. (Another telltale sign this was written in the early ’60s is that while not explicitly mentioned, McKenna seemed to have written this with the civil rights movement lurking in the background, never exactly rearing its head but I’m pretty sure informing the text.) Society is slowly becoming divided, or rather humanity is slowly being split in two, between the Tau minority and non-Tau majority, and Lane associating with the former could present some real dangers. Not overnight, but gradually Lane’s world is being turned upside down for the sake of a mysterious woman he has fallen head over heels for, and things only get weirder when the Tau energy reveals that the world we see is not strictly the only one that exists, for there is another.

I’ve been struggling to write about “They Are Not Robbed” for the past couple days, and I think the big reason for that is that I don’t entirely understand this story; it’s rather hard to describe. It’s a first contact narrative, but it then turns into something else, and the closest point of comparison I can think of off the top of my head would be McKenna’s own “The Secret Place,” which is also a bizarre love story I’ve never been entirely able to wrap my head around. Despite his short work being at least nominally SF McKenna strikes me as more of a fantasist, in that he doesn’t seem terribly interested in the why of the SFnal elements of his fiction. The Tau energy at the heart of “They Are Not Robbed” is hard to explain because McKenna doesn’t go to great lengths at all to explain how it works. The result is a story that’s surreal, and effective insofar as it’s trying to evoke a sense of mystery and mysticism, but it’s also confusing. It reads as more or less finished, but could’ve benefited from one more round of revision, namely to tighten up the length (it must be a solid 12,000 words and could’ve been shorter) and make the narrative more focused. The budding romance between Lane and Martha is fine, but it takes an odd turn when we’re introduced to two new ideas, neither of which is much elaborated on: the existence of “time-lands” for Tau people, which exist in a separate but parallel space with Earth of the present moment; and then there are the “doublegangers,” or the doubles of the Tau people who must never cross paths with their originals or else something bad would happen.

There Be Spoilers Here

It’s good news that as a new Tau person Lane has been introduced to the time-lands, because the Purchasing Offices have gradually been vanishing around the world; apparently the Star Birds are removing these stations and will soon be on their way. There will come a point, soon, when there will be no way to traverse between the worlds, at least from Earth’s side. This is the point where the story ultimately reveals what it’s about, which is to say the evolution of the human race. A select number of humans have been chosen as successors to the Star Birds, or another way to interpret it is that the Star Birds are in fact the descendants of humans from a far-off future who have traveled back in time to kickstart their own creation. It’s not totally clear at the end which is supposed to be the case, but either seems possible. Hell, just about anything seems possible. With the doublegangers left on Earth it will be like the Tau people had never left, only their doublegangers are “normal.” Eventually society will return to what it once was. As the scientist who led the study of Tau energy says, “You will leave them your simulacrum, and it will be just what they have wished you to be. They lose only what they hate. They are not robbed.” “They” of course being non-Tau people. The twist being that the Star Birds fostered a small race of superhumans would have been fine on paper circa 1963, but just five years later would’ve been old hat—again, on paper. The execution is what makes this a curious story, even if I find the execution to be unpolished.

A Step Farther Out

Would I suggest this as an introduction to McKenna’s SF? No. Then again if you know of McKenna at all then there’s a good chance you’ve already read “The Secret Place” at the least, which “They Are Not Robbed” feels like a more SFnal counterpart to—not saying “continuation” because I’m not sure which story McKenna would’ve written first. But as a curiosity I would recommend it, as it’s indeed quite strange and does serve as a snapshot of a specific cultural moment in American history, which would’ve already been in the rearview mirror by the time it was published. More than anything I lament McKenna not living longer to hone his craft, and maybe to have taken part in the New Wave, a movement that might’ve suited him. But as things are the New Wave saw only the ghost of the man. One of those missed opportunities in SF history.

See you next time.