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SUN,
SEA AND STRATEGY
There
doesn't seem to have been too many exciting wargames
released over the summer -- either for the Commodore
or the Spectrum. I wonder if the software house's marketing
men are using the right brand of logic in timing their
releases. I assume that things have been slow over the
summer because software companies deem it sensible that
the nation's youthful game-buying population are out
enjoying the fine weather (or have fled the country
in search of fine weather), and it is imagined that
when the nights draw in, the consumers will turn once
again to the computer as a means of entertainment .
. . almost like a good book in front of the fire.
There
might be a certain reality in the inverted logic of
student life -- that the more there is to do the more
time gets spent on irrelevant activities like flying
bombing missions to Ploesti or re-mobilising D-Day --
but I think the assumption that computer-minded schoolchildren
abandon their computers over the holidays is wrong.
In some ways, computer gaming is a compulsive occupation.
With school out of the way for a few weeks, there's
nothing to get in the way of 16 continuous hours in
front of the screen. The fact that the weather outside
is nice and hot is an irrelevance to be screened out
of the room by closed curtains because the sun shines
on the television. Family holidays are a desolate computerless
nuisance.
It
seems to me that the software houses ought to concentrate
their releases over the holiday period. This is a time
when schoolchildren are also more likely to have money,
generated by gainful holiday employment. But as usual,
I expect there will be a cluster of new game coming
up in time for the Christmas market. Now the Christmas
break really is a time when schoolchildren have got
other things to do with their spare time. There are
so many interesting programmes on television for instance.
The
undoubted power of a computer game to be so all-absorbing
is certainly alarming to anyone who worries about the
intellectual health of the nation's youth. Although
it isn't immediately clear why computer gaming should
be seen as a less valid occupation than reading a book
or watching a play, I think it's true that we have that
feeling. Part of it is the compulsive nature of some
games. Books might be compelling, but it's rare to read
for seven hours solid without feeling strained. Plays
and other dramatic entertainments are specially tuned
to last for only a couple of hours. Computer games can
swallow up hours on end without causing the player any
mental fatigue.
It's
all to do with the human mind's need to be stimulated.
Computer games -- particularly the fast and simple type
-- provide a continuous high level of stimulation. They
can be what I call 'junk food for the mind' -- strong
in flavour, low in nutritional content. The computer
is interactive too, which is probably its greatest addictive
factor. It's impossible to be lonely while involved
in a computer game.
Strategy
games are only slightly different. They provide interaction
without the nuisance of a complicated human presence,
and they simplify reality to a manageable level. The
fact that they require a thoughtful input from the player
is something which makes them even more likely to be
played for long periods at a time.
I
for one never was convinced by the 'lovely sunshine'
argument, long before I became a computer convert. But
I think we ought to be aware of the dangers of letting
computer games be an easy substitute for all other intellectual
activity.
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Both
of the games reviewed in this month's issue take a similar
sort of concept as the basis of their gameplay. The
player is put in an omniscient position, more or less
holding the fate of Earth in the not too distant future
in his hands. In Armageddon Man, from a software
company which has a reputation for producing classy
and unusual strategy games, this idea is taken to its
extreme. The player has just landed what must surely
be the most uncoveted job in history. The 'Armageddon
Man' of the title has been given the task of coordinating
the satellite network above Earth, acting as a sort
of super-diplomat to negotiate continuing peace between
the world's collection of paranoid and nuke-happy superpowers.
It's
quite obvious that this scenario is more than a little
improbable, but that isn't a fair criticism of it as
a game -- at least it wouldn't be if Armageddon Man
didn't attempt to be so sophisticated, subtle and politically
realistic that the game itself vanishes into a web of
open-ended diplomacy. In fact Armageddon Man
falls into the familiar fatal trap that always lies
under the feet of designers of 'pure' strategy games;
the player has lots of basically simple decisions to
make, which affect the mass of events in some way, but
which a) don't give the player enough control over what
happens and b) don't give the player enough to do. Pure
strategy games can be designed around a structure of
simple decision making, but can still make the player
feel that his participation directly and visibly affects
the outcome. The best strategy games of this kind can
be very addictive, and ironically they usually have
a pretty simple 'storyline'.
Listening
in on secret discussions between the
superpowers with a high-tech radio receiver
The
story line of Armageddon Man is ambitious in
contrast to one of the classics of the genre like Football
Manager. The superpowers of the world do not appear
to combine in any broad alliances, which is essential
for the gameplay, but unrealistic if the scenario is
really trying to project current trends 50 years forward,
and are all more or less suspicious of each other. Most
of them have nuclear capability and are quite ready
to discharge a few missiles at nations they dislike.
In the role of Supreme Commander of the satellite defence
and espionage network, the player has four aims. He
has to learn to get on well with individual countries,
promote relationships between countries and make sure
that the economic and military balance is maintained.
The game is supposed to simulate a computer system set
up to make the job of communication easier. If I were
inclined to take that literally, the first thing I would
do as Supreme Commander would be to fire the programmer.
The
screen display shows a finely-etched map of the world
-- which is largely for display purposes only -- and
a collection of the indispensable icons which allow
the player access to the various functions. Via these
icons, the player can position spy satellites and what
amount to SDI satellites over the world map. He or she
can also check the level of food, technological and
military resources currency at the disposal of each
country, can move the one UNN troop unite about the
world, can receive and sand hate letters, and can attempt
to intercept the world's radio transmissions.
Putting
defence satellites over countries where trouble is anticipated
is a good idea, because they can reduce the severity
of a nuclear attack if one comes. Spy satellites can
let the player know if any countries are deploying extra
troops in secret, and also what the country under surveillance
thinks of any other power. Not that this is under the
player's control; reports from the spy satellites flash
up at random. If a country notices it's being spied
upon it tends to object, and I imagine you go down in
its estimation by a few points. If a country doesn't
have a good relationship with the player, it is more
likely to ignore requests from the controller to do
anything from reducing its number of nuclear warheads
to holding peace talks with an aggressor.
In
addition to the spy satellites, which rarely seem to
come up with anything useful anyway, the player can
attempt to find out what's going on in the world by
intercepting radio transmissions. Quite a lot of thought
has gone into the design of the equipment which enables
the player to do this. You can choose to let the computer
scan rapidly between certain wavebands or just listen
for transmissions on or near a likely frequency. The
first option gives a greater chance of picking something
up, but it will be in code. A clever unscrambling device,
which involves switching on and off a bank of six filters
until you find the right combination, allows the message
to come through clearly. The unfortunate thing is that
once the messages have been deciphered they turn out
to be most inane and repetitive. Japan gives preferential
import factors to Australia, America complains of missing
diplomats, and the Islamic Alliance announces that its
opinion of Europe Unite is 'average'.
I
refuse to believe that the most efficient way to gain
information about the relations between countries is
to act like an amateur radio ham. I don't need to put
a spy satellite in the air to find out that Iran's view
of Iraq is unfavourable. Willing suspension of disbelief
is as necessary when playing a computer game as when
watching a play, but self-evident absurdities like this
don't help the process, and a scenario which has realistic
pretension makes them all too conspicuous.
The
game is played in real time, but there is no sense of
urgency about it. In fact the background tune (a fine
piece of Commodore music) gives the play a relaxed and
jazzy atmosphere. From time to time reports appear out
of thin air, informing that the Black African Republic
and Argentina are arranging cultural exchange visits,
or have record trade with each other, or have launched
a conventional attack on each other. Usually the player
is given the opportunity to respond immediately, by
supporting or criticising or remaining neutral.
If
two countries look like they might be warming up for
a fight, you can ask for talks which may or may not
take place. A beautiful plastic coated map and vinyl
friction stickers provided with the game are used to
keep track of relationships that seem to be developing
between countries. In theory this is an excellent idea.
In practice, it is impractical. The amount of information
the program presents is too much to keep track of, and
every time you pause to re-arrange a sticker on the
map a few more seconds of game time have gone. In any
case, there is no real sense that anything the player
says or does makes much difference in the end. Canada
may decide to nuke Australia -- and this has happened
to me -- without warning. Once a country has launched
a nuclear attach there is nothing the player can do
but watch pin-point missiles flying across the world
map and hope that one of the defence satellite catches
some of them. Although rules drop dark hints about escalation,
it doesn't seem to happen. Countries chuck missiles
at each other in glorious isolation, and the most dramatic
thing that can happen is their mutual annihilation.
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