Wildcat #5

17 Dec 1988 - 30 Dec 1988; Cover price 40p.
32 pages. Colour & B&W.
Fleetway Publications.

Edited by Barrie Tomlinson.

Cover by Manuel Carmona (signed).

Contents:

 2 Turbo Jones UNTITLED [Arglons in the City] w: UNKNOWN; a: Vanyo.

 7 Cassandra Cardeti pin-up; a: Jose Ortiz.

 8 Joe Alien UNTITLED [Island Prison] w: UNKNOWN; a: Ron Smith.

11 Kitten Magee UNTITLED [Robot Attack from Below] w: UNKNOWN; a: Jose Ortiz.

16 Joe Alien UNTITLED (cont.)

18 Time-Warp Data Link feature page (uncredited).

19 Alien readers' art; An Alien After He's Gone by Og, Xgangbe-12, An Earth Person by Pweeekk Xiouu of Planet 9, Mum by Little Zxisdyurgfdglkh, A Space Message by Xxxxx Zzzzzz, A Spaceship by Mekon Junior.

20 Loner UNTITLED [Weapons Practice] w: UNKNOWN; a: David Pugh.

25 A Christmas Story w: UNKNOWN; a: UNKNOWN.

31 In Space, Some Things Are More Important Than Others... subscriptions coupon.

32 Free Circus Games advertisement for Weeto's cereal; a: UNKNOWN.

This is the least effective cover of the series, though it does, at least, make a degree of sense given the seasonal story included in this issue. It is an incredibly difficult cover to take seriously, and requests too much trust from readers. There are some fabulous, insane images in this issue, any one of which would have been more appropriate.

The Arglons and their dinosaur army are attacking the city of the Burroids. Using gigantic creatures to tunnel under the city. Meanwhile, Turbo Jones, appointed supreme war commander of the Burroids, is outside the city training his dinosaur army. In the city itself, there is chaos, as the burrowing creatures surface...

Take a moment and see if you can spot the problem with the introduction. Go on, take your time.

The most important location in the story, around which everything has turned, and whose continued existence is vital should the human cargo of Wildcat choose to declare the planet their new home, isn't named. Granted, this is an alien species we're dealing with, but throughout human history people have attempted to name everything possible. The little plastic thing on the end of your shoelace has a name¹, and there's a name for being thrown out of a window². Hell, there's even a name for the middle of your upper lip³.

During the Victorian era people set out to name everything upon the face of the planet, no matter how obscure or irrelevant, and yet Burroid culture hasn't even advanced to the stage where they point at something and declare "I give this thing a name."

The horrifying visual of an immense Mantis breaking through the city's foundations is a dramatic and tension-filled image, worthy of 2000 A.D. That this, a title which is aimed at younger readers, should present such a stunning and memorable opening is, frankly, astounding. Turbo and his dino-riding buddies head back to scene of devastation as quickly as their steeds can travel, the supreme war commander shouting out his defensive plans as they go.

There's something of a disparity between what we are presented with, and what we are told. Visuals indicate that the scene is to be taken seriously, with numerous events depicted in a rather detailed, if derivative, manner, though the text boxes have a playful, almost parodic tone. The invasion is led, we are told, by General Anvile. In Arglon, where news of Jones' role is relayed, there is a Minister of Electro-Cerebral Technology, who declares that by using circuit 10 KMG traversing 43 RXP on the biodeg XT 1871 computer, they can control Terrosauron mental ability.

This is SF informed by classic TV comedy sketches as much as works in its own genre.

Ortiz's dramatic painting of Cassandra would have been fine if this was for older readers, but by concentrating on her rear end reduces her role in the title to eye candy. Where was the pin-up of Loner, emerging from a lake, water rivulets running down his bare chest? If the characters are going to be exploited, then a little equality seems only fair and correct.

The mobile, intelligent trees advance on Joe Alien's unit, surrounding them - at which point they release a gas which incapacitates Joe and his men. Awaking at night, they discover they have been transported to an island, the water around which is filled with man-eating plants. Eventually the trees float over to the trapped group on a flying rock, whereupon a wizened human emerges to greet them.

Having any alien transport resembles an automobile from the sixties immediately incites a groan, especially when the rest of the story is handled in a manner which indicates that the story is amping up tension - though the revelation that a human is present does mitigate such an odd artistic decision somewhat. The appealing look of the trees is emphasised here, with maximum otherness played out.

Kitten deals with the flying robots in the only manner appropriate for a comic-book character - she destroys them all at the first opportunity with a Zam-Nine grenade. The remainder of the robots, who have been standing silently, watching events, suddenly begin spinning and drilling themselves into the ground. Cassandra is injured, with her grenade seconds from detonating, but Kitten uses talents picked up from playing football to save her friend. Cassandra questions this, as football was banned a hundred years before, forcing Kitten to cover by saying she played in illegal football games.

The last of the robots begin resurfacing, so Kitten orders the team to escape to the jungle. Aurora twists her ankle, and Kitten returns for her - as Hobos releases gas cannisters over the location. Cut off from the others, Kitten and Aurora watch as a robot's head is ejected into the air and explodes... The others see this, and remark upon the fact that the pair have been killed.

We know that it is unlikely for so prominent a character to be killed off in this manner, but the sequence works magnificently. What is less encouraging is the repetition of plot points in two separate stories - having gas (of whatever description) obscuring matters in two locations isn't a problem, but to have both events occur in the same issue is. At least two issues ought to separate any duplication such as this, so that the reader is not reminded that the depiction was better handled previously, and to prevent annoyance at any perceived lac of imagination.

Also, because it keeps getting used, it needs to be mentioned that 'detachable heads' are a patently ridiculous notion whose use should be limited to comedy strips. Or horror, as anyone who has seen The Thing can attest. How are the robots supposed to operate after they have blown up their own heads? Is there a repository of spare parts nearby, or is this the final, desperate act of a single unit? If it is a suicidal gambit, how are there still so many robots running around? This is a comic disinclined to provide answers to some of the questions raised in its plotting oddities.

Loner emerges from the machine, his cranium expanded in order to manipulate the weapons left over by the ancient civilisation, which the Fuzzballs have hidden. Donning an exo-skeleton - with a fantastic horned helmet - he is finally able to take control of the weapons. Having got the hang of telepathic controls, Loner sets out in search of the beast, discovering an immense cavern filled with webbed-up Fuzzballs which the creature has set aside for future snacks. Impatient to confront the lurking menace, Loner soon comes face-to-face with it.

And what an image that is.

Really, you couldn't ask for a more dramatic conclusion to this installment, with the hero barely registering in front of an absolutely gigantic threat. Remember the Chitauri Leviathans from The Avengers? This thing is so large it could eat one whole and likely remain hungry. Which, unfortunately, raises a slight issue with the presence of trapped Fuzzballs on the previous page - it is truly a giant, and sustaining nourishment from such trifling creatures as the telepathic balls of fur is hardly credible.

I'm slightly disappointed that we aren't given incremental steps towards the big threat, displaying increasingly large threats for the hero to overcome, as this would explain how such an immense creature can sustain itself. The lack of biodiversity is a major puzzle, though the strip isn't concerned with such insignificant matters - this is an action-adventure strip which is determined to squeeze the most drama out of every twist and turn.

Lets examine the steps towards the imminent battle. First Loner was attacked by the Fuzzballs, which is akin to being nibbled to death by cats, before facing a bipedal crocodile, after which he must face... an Argentinosaurus. The lack of intermediate threats of increasing size are a subtle hint that logic is taking a back seat to cool visuals.

But when the visuals are so cool, it is arguable that logic is irrelevant.

A Christmas Story brings us back to the cover image.

The great spacecraft Wildcat is spending its first Christmas in orbit around the new planet...

I'm not going to even attempt to untangle that line. What we know for sure is that the ship has some form of FTL, and the closest habitable exoplanet is very likely more than ten light-years distant. Throw in time-dilation, and you're guess is as good as mine whether this is actually the first Christmas aboard the ship or not.

Robots have been manufacturing decorations for those aboard the ship, in what is probably a flagrant abuse of existing resources, and those aboard are preparing to eat syntho-turkey and relax. Which doesn't explain why actual turkeys are absent. Did they forget to bring turkeys? Are they already extinct? Are there only a minimum of animal life aboard the ship?

A reading appears on the ship's middle-distance radar (is the long-distance radar broken?), which appears to be a giant Christmas pudding when a visual is obtained. It soon engulfs the ship, though without damage. A complete power failure hits the ship, which is unfortunate for anyone on life support, before Father Christmas and Pixie, a rather large elf, appear. They indicate that the pudding is their spaceship, and have travelled across the galaxy to deliver presents to everyone.

Once their mission is accomplished, the pair fade away, then their ship departs, changing into an image of Santa and Pixie aboard a sleigh pulled by reindeer.

Of course, they are revealed to be aliens rather than the real thing, but that raises more questions than the alternative - here is a species able to create realistic illusions, transport matter across distances, and able to track people across the galaxy with little effort. How this is not treated as a possible threat to the safety of the ship is inexplicable, and the command crew aboard - more interested in eggnog and gaudy decorations - should have been court-martialed for their incompetence.

A cute reference to the Alien films, urging readers to subscribe, rounds out an uneven (though visually strong) issue.

<sup>1. They're called aglets.
2. Defenestration, if you are curious. Or Frank Miller.
3. It is called the philtrum.</sup>

#04

Wildcat

#06