Imperium

Ok, I’ve been advised that I should post my Orange Box review in installments. Hopefully that should make it easier to read, and it will be up on the site earlier. To start, here’s the introduction and the review of Episode 2:

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The Orange Box

I haven’t always been a fan of boxes. I’ve been a PC gamer long enough to recall the days of cardboard packaging, five times the size it needed to be. My copy of Homeworld stood to the height of a small tome, with the jewel case and the manual rattling around inside. Those were dark times, and I look back on them now with not a single hint of nostalgia. You’ll not find me in a flight of whimsy, longing for Hellgate: London to be delivered in a gargantuan sleeve, just so that I might make another contribution to the recycling heap.

I’m not sure exactly when it happened, but at some point in years past there was a ’switch’, and games began to be sold in economical DVD-size cases. For these compact treasures, I have a much greater fondness. They’re not so small that they’re insignificant; and they’re not so large that they’re obese. They’re perfectly formed for the human hand without being chunky and childish. I like the way my collection looks, neatly arranged in my shelves as it is. I liked the way that I was slowly but surely running out of space, so that soon I was going to have to seek additional storage solutions.

Now, the age of boxed games is drawing to a close. A revolution has come. The one known as ‘Steam’ has risen to prominence. What was once an insignificant application for keeping your Valve products organised has been transformed into a computer gaming hub. There’s an online store selling titles from such giants as Activision, Eidos, 2K and id. Patches are released regularly. Community functions have been added to encourage teamplay. Most important of all, the service is reliable, which means that the one lingering concern I had with downloading games – that there was a chance that I would lose access to my purchases – is no more.

Just as the introduction of gunpowder to the battlefields of of the west brought with it a gradual evolution in the ways of war, so now does faster Internet access begin a new era in computer games sales. I’ve already started the transition myself: I’ve downloaded Peggle Deluxe, Defcon and Uplink over Steam. But those three were scarcely available in stores. A while ago, when I decided that I had to have Dark Messiah of Might and Magic, I stayed true to the old ways and got a hard copy. Now, something has happened that has converted me completely. That something is The Orange Box.

I know what you’re thinking! You’re thinking: “A box? You just said you were done with boxes, you flouncymouth!”. Indeed, but this box is of a different species to the boxes of yore. It is, in fact, not actually a box at all. It’s just called a box. Well, it is a box if you get it in a store, which you can do, but I’ve got it off Steam, so in my case the box is metaphorical in nature. The contents of the box, however, are far from metaphorical. They are very real, and also spectacularly good.

Half-Life 2: Episode 2

When I imagine The Orange Box as an actual box, with the games within it in boxes as well, I imagine them stacked in a particular order. The topmost on the stack being Half Life 2: Episode 2.

Episode 2 kicks off only a few seconds from the final moments of Episode 1. But, before you (Gordon Freeman) spawn inside a precariously balanced train carriage, you’re treated to a helpful ‘previously on…’ sequence, in which you see your faithful sidekick, Alyx Vance, fighting, hacking and talking her way through the levels of the previous episode. You’re reminded of your mission, which is to escort a vital data packet (in Alyx’s possession) into rebel hands.

You’re also reminded of the reason why your train crashed: that the reactor inside City 17’s Citadel had gone critical, and a truly epic explosion had issued forth, obliterating the city and untold acres of surrounding countryside. Besides the initial desolation, the aftermath is marked by portal storms – shockwaves of shimmering bluish energy, heralded by thunderous booms. Portal storms shake the earth and everything standing upon it, and sturdy metal bridges – built to provide safe rail transit for tactically versed MIT graduates and their beautiful female companions – are no exception.

The destruction of the bridge is a magnificent set piece, and it serves well as a showcase for the new physics functionality that Valve have coded into the Source engine. The physics of the Half-Life 2 series was already some of the best in the business, but with Episode 2 Valve have outdone themselves. One can no longer rely upon the integrity of the once unchanging landscape. Large structures can be entirely levelled into a rubble of planks and bricks, and the ground you’re standing on can suddenly and dangerously shift. This isn’t simple tech either; when a lumber mill is shattered by a Strider’s main cannon, it really is shattered, into its constituent parts. Most importantly, these destructions are glorious sights to behold.

There are a multitude of graphical enhancements to the engine as well. Most noticeably, dynamic lighting means that Gordon’s flashlight casts realistic shadows on every object in the game, including characters and enemies. So now, when you shine it in Alyx’s eyes and she raises her hand in irritation, it looks much, much better. There’s greater detail across the board: Alyx looks more defined, and the vortiguants have been given a masterful makeover. In fact, I had the distinct impression that everything was visually richer, I expect in part because Valve have learned from their work in Episode 1, and also because advancements in lighting are bound to impact positively on general graphical quality.

There are some treats in the gameplay department too. Early on you have to traverse the many caves and tunnels of an Ant Lion hive, and you’re forced to confront the worker caste of the colony. The workers are just as agile as their warrior kin (which you’ll be familiar with from previous outings), if not more so. But instead of moving to engage you in melee with razor sharp talons, they content themselves with spitting volleys of highly corrosive acid at you from long range. You can tell they’re charming little blighters.

The combine aren’t sticking with their old deployment either. The deadly Hunters have been unleashed: savage, calculating predatory tripods that make for efficient enough killers on their own, and will often come at you in packs. They’re incredibly tough, and apparently quite happy to work in concert with Striders or Combine soldiers, drawing your fire and dishing out charged flechettes that stick to surfaces and explode soon after.

The Hunters will tend to pounce when you’re on foot, when you’re far more vulnerable to their lightning fast attacks. Fortunately, for much of the game you won’t be on foot. Instead, you’ll be speeding through miles of valleys, mountain trails and hilltop villages in a nitro-charged turbo ultra mega super…car. It’s a far cry from the shoddy buggy of Half-Life 2, that was essentially nothing more than an engine strapped to a climbing frame. This time you’re gifted with a ferociously fast beast with extraordinary handling, an engine that looks and sounds like one that you’d find in the bonnet of a Bigfoot monster truck, and a boost function that recharges in about 5 seconds.

Not only does the ‘Hotrod’ (as it’s being called) multiply the fun factor of the outdoor areas by 10 times, it’s also a lethal weapon for hit-and-runs. Even Hunters – who are quite capable of absorbing the damage from 10 direct hits from the shotgun, or several well-landed grenades (at least, on hard difficulty) – are turned to lifeless ragdolls if you charge into them at high speed.

It’s not the new additions that secure Episode 2’s place on the top of my imaginary stack though; nor is it the garden gnome hidden in the communications outhouse at the beginning. The reason why it’s firmly in first place is simply because it’s another storytelling masterpiece in the Half-Life saga, and because it’s another demonstration of Valve’s commitment to create and develop characters that shine with emotion and personality.

Prior to the game’s release, I had feared that I was to be parted from Alyx, and that I’d either have to proceed on my own or in the company of a fresh comrade. This is mercifully not the case, although there are chapters where you’re required to leave Alyx in order to achieve certain objectives. For the most part, she remains at your side, and it looks to be Valve’s intention to carry on the partnership into Episode 3. For that, I am eternally grateful.

I’m further grateful in declaring that the Alyx of Episode 2 is more delightful than ever before. I fell in love with her almost at first sight in Half-Life 2, but the emotional rapids of this latest episode have left me utterly besotted. I got an even stronger sense of the implicit bond between her and Gordon, which comes across subtly, in and out of combat, through small gestures and remarks. I think that bond remains also because of what she doesn’t say. She never wildly gesticulates toward you in blind adoration, and she never tries to seduce you. Like any more reserved person, she has her inhibitions, her small measure of pride, and her potential embarrassments, and she’s all the more convincing as a character because of it.

Valve have also seen fit to expand on the role of the Vortiguants in Gordon’s adventures. In those sections of the game when you’re separated from Alyx, an unnamed Vortiguant ally takes her place. He’s extremely valuable to have around. Like Alyx, he’s indispensable as a means of opening gates that block your path; but unlike Alyx, he fights like a demigod, wrestling Ant Lions and zombies to the ground and quickly zapping them to death. And at White Forest (the rebel headquarters) there’s one who goes by the name of ‘Uriah’, who has donned a white lab coat and works tirelessly as a colleague (or perhaps more accurately, servitor) of a new and most welcome introduction to the saga, Dr. Magnusson.

Like Isaac Kleiner and Eli Vance (once again superbly acted by Harry S. Robins and Robert Guillaume), Magnusson is a ‘fleshing out’ of some of the scientists from the original Half-Life. He’s easily irritated by the activities of those around him, or indeed anything that happens to interrupt his work, but not in a way that made me resent him. He’s proud, pompous and arrogant, but enough of a genius that he doesn’t end up looking like a fool.

There’s some hilarious interplay at White Forest between him and Kleiner, who, according to Eli, were rivals long before the Combine invasion. Kleiner remains overtly compassionate but easily panicked; Magnusson has no time for sentiment and, in moments of crisis, adopts the role of the overseer frustrated with his underlings. When they’re together in the lab it’s like watching a rabbit who’s been thrown into a cage with a python, without the inevitable constriction, swallowing and slow digestion of the rabbit.

As always in the Half-Life series, the game underlying the story is also first class. There’s tremendous excitement to be had from the episode’s action sequences. I’ve heard other gamers speak of their distaste for the opening sequences in the Ant Lion hive, but I think that those sequences are home to some of the most thrilling scenes in the game. At one point you delve deep into the hive with your Vortiguant companion on a mission to obtain a sample of a substance much revered by him and his brothers, ‘the extract’. Of course, it’s not a simple task of finding and retrieving; the inner sanctum is patrolled by an especially tenacious Ant Lion Guardian.

Immediately upon entering the sanctum, the Guardian charges at you in a fit of pure rage. You’re undoubtedly familiar with fighting Guardians from Half-Life 2 and Episode 1; this time, you can’t risk killing it, because if you do, the extract is immediately spoiled. You must outrun the Guardian in its own habitat, pushing the HEV suit, and your wits, to their limits. The key is to sprint from cover to cover, from alcove to alcove, before the Guardian can catch you in the open. It’s a heart-pounding encounter.

Prior to the ‘Guardian Gauntlet’, as I’ve come to call it, there’s a drawn out stand-off against waves of Ant Lions. Anyone who’s seen Aliens will recognise the set up: a small band of isolated soldiers, a couple of automated turrets to help stave off overwhelming hordes, and a frantic last stand once those turrets have failed.

You’re not on your own though. To begin with, two colourfully charactered resistance members demonstrate their ingenious early warning system – essentially a set of traffic lights plugged into motion sensors – and then bravely stand with you against the first few waves. At the finale, you’re joined by a wayfaring group of Vortiguants, and a swarm of Ant Lions – I’d say twice the number of all of the previous waves combined – desperately flood into the chamber. A glorious slaughter ensues, in which the Vortiguants are deployed in full battle mode, forks of lightning piercing chitinous hide, met by the applause and astonishment of the resistance members. The only thing missing was for someone to shout “they’re coming out of the fucking walls!”.

As with all three titles in The Orange Box, it’s an uphill struggle to find anything wrong with Episode 2. The only criticisms I have are niggles; instances where Valve have apparently not brought the full weight of their genius to bear upon a problem. There are two such instances, as far as I can discern. The first, a face-off with one of the mine-dropping Combine helicopters; the second, a physics puzzle on a sundered bridge.

For the face-off, you’re encouraged to grab the mines that the helicopter tries to bomb you with, and propel them back at it. Thus, the chopper is rapidly torn to shreds, and your rebel friends jeer in jubilation “return to sender!”. On paper it sounds like a decent enough challenge for the Freeman; in actuality, it felt cheap and fake. Who was the prodigy in Combine R&D that arrived at the conclusion that, instead of standard bombs, it was best to equip their choppers with spherical mines that roll around aimlessly and take almost 10 seconds to explode? This isn’t Dambusters! Ultimately, the mounted machine gun is far more menacing.

The physics puzzle takes place just before you get on the road with Alyx. I’d made it to the Hotrod, which had been dumped on the road, but the bridge ahead was – just like the train bridge at the start of the game – torn asunder by a portal storm. The objective, as I eventually discovered, is to shunt a bunch of abandoned cars off of the bridge so that it pivots in your favour, forming a ramp and a means of reaching the other side.

The problem is that this solution was far from readily apparent. At first, I thought I had to somehow drive the car back through where I had come from, and so I tipped it off the edge of the bridge, only to be confronted with the classic ‘you have failed to secure vital resources’ message. I began to wander aimlessly, and then to bully the cars around with the gravity gun. Shortly, the bridge shifted and all became clear as day, but it was random experimentation, not considered action, that had made it clear, and there’s something off-putting about that.

These are both exceptions to the rule though. The fact is that 99% of the battles and puzzles in Episode 2 are as close to perfection as you can get right now. I’ve been pondering the question of whether Valve have successfully surpassed Episode 1. It’s not like there’s a great deal between the two. Episode 1 introduced new enemies (the zombine and the stalker), let us explore new areas (the citadel and the hospital), spiced up the gameplay (cooperative play with Alyx) and advanced the story.

All those boxes can be checked for Episode 2. What gives it the edge is that it goes a few yards further on the road toward the promised land, where the player can’t resist being enamoured with the characters, caring for them, sharing in their triumphs and mourning their losses. When you experience the episode’s heart wrenching ending, you’ll understand.

✓ Looks gorgeous
✓ Hardcore action scenes
✓ Outdoor vehicle sections
✓ Emotionally involving
✗ A couple of disappointing bits

98%

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Coming up next is Portal.

- Chris

I’ve been busy playing the Orange Box games, and I had a little writer’s block, but I’ve managed to put together my review of Bioshock:

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Bioshock

I wanted to prolong my experience of Bioshock. It had been touted as the great spiritual successor to System Shock 2. Playing it was said to be like reading a brilliantly written novel. I didn’t want to rush it; I wanted it to last. I silently swore an oath to myself not to play it unless I was on my own, undisturbed, because that’s what I thought it would warrant. That was enough to slow the pace of my progression through the game, because I was rarely given such moments of solitude, what with the constant requests for me to play Team Fortress 2. Nonetheless, close to a month later, I am done with Bioshock, and now I can tell you what I think of it.

It begins with one of the most brilliant introductions in any game ever. You (Jack) start off on board a plane, which swiftly crashes into the sea. You swim to the surface, debris sinking around you, and once you take your first breath, you’re in control. I was immediately overwhelmed. All around me there was the most beautiful in-game water I’ve ever seen, and as if that wasn’t enough, a ring of fire surrounded me, the reddish glow from the flames reflected in the water droplets on my screen. Nearby, the main body of the plane was gradually sinking, the water frothing realistically at the base. Finally, rising up above the carnage, there stood a tall lighthouse, with steps leading up to its entrance.

Of course, I knew instinctively that the way forward was through that entrance, but I was compelled to stay outside for a while. The plane was still sinking – I wanted to see it finally disappear – and I couldn’t help but look out with awe upon the vista of fiery wreckage one more time. Once the plane had vanished, I turned around and stepped into the darkness of the lighthouse. At first, I could see only by means of a shaft of moonlight, but after a few more steps, the door suddenly slammed shut behind me, and for a brief second, I was alone in the dark.

Then, I heard the characteristic flicker of halogens, a dim ambient light fell upon the room, then more flickering, more light. I was in a lobby. A grand statue of a man leered over me. Across it there was a banner bearing the slogan “No Gods or Kings. Only Man”. Below it there was a plaque, upon it the words: “In what country is there a place for people like me?” - Andrew Ryan. At that point, I knew I was playing something special.

The core of Bioshock is its plot and its characters. The premise of the story is that, sometime in the 1930s, the above mentioned Ryan – a radical genius, and seemingly a staunch advocate of the more controversial tenets of Nietzschean philosophy – has succeeded in constructing a fully-fledged city at the bottom of the sea, Rapture. Unfortunately, the combination of an isolated ecosystem and a policy of espousing amorality has resulted in an apocalypse of sorts. The streets of Rapture are roamed by all manner of ne’er-do-wells, and a society initially unified by a common purpose is now fractured into opposed factions.

You’ll come to know this much by the time you reach the end of the first level (The Medical Pavilion) by means of listening to audio recordings left behind by certain of Rapture’s citizens. And you might find yourself thinking that it’s enough for a game to go by: a city in ruins, a tyrant in control of the chaos, you, the hero with the power to bring him down. For the first half of the game, I naïvely thought that was all there was going to be. I was glad to be wrong.

For the first half of the game (the first act, if you will) your primary objective is to depose Ryan, thereby (hopefully) liberating the people of Rapture. A likeable Irish chappy by the name of Atlas guides you over a two-way radio, kindly explaining the situation for you along the way. That all gets flipped on its head at the start of the second act, when you experience a truly earth-shattering plot twist. Of course I won’t go into the grizzly details here, suffice to say that I was totally surprised.

All of this narrative twisting and turning takes place in perhaps the best designed sprawling complex I’ve ever had the pleasure of exploring. For the opening chapter of the game you’re confined to the Medical Pavilion, which is, by itself, impressively large. After that, you move on Neptune’s Bounty, which I’d say is as large, if not larger. Once you’re done mapping out every nook and cranny of one level, you’re sent off to the next one, with its own unique atmosphere, new enemies for you to face, new weapons, new upgrades, new powers. Enough to keep you occupied for at least a further few hours.

There are about 12 levels, some of which are big hubs like the Medical Pavilion; others are smaller. The level that stood out most for me was Fort Frolic, where I met Rapture’s premier artist, Sander Cohen. Cohen is eccentric to say the least, and in his psychosis he has his heart set on creating a truly morbid masterpiece. The moment you step foot inside the level proper, Cohen seals you inside and cuts off your radio contact with Atlas. You have no choice but to follow his instructions and contribute to his work.

Your contribution consists of exacting revenge on certain citizens – all of whom have wronged Cohen in some way – and afterwards taking snaps of their bullet-ridden, or even charred corpses. After that, you post the photos on frames that Cohen has set up on a stage in the promenade.

Now that I think about it, Fort Frolic is Cohen, in so many ways. Undoubtedly, like the rest of Rapture, it used to serve its function. It used to be a lively pleasure centre with the casinos flowing with cash, concerts and functions being held, bars buzzing with activity, artists like Cohen churning out work in their studios. And, like the rest of Rapture, its undergone a tragic transformation.

Now Cohen rules it from up-high, with total control over the security system and an apparent dominion over the local splicers (citizens turned scavengers). His more recent and more manic works abound: a family set in stone around a dinner table, the father with his upturned hands bleeding, the mother with her arms restrained behind her back, the baby girl with her head bowed. As in all good horror, you’re never told straight-up whether the statues are real people encased in plaster, the victims of one of Cohen’s mood swings, or just sculptures. The mind fills in the gaps.

Sections of Fort Frolic are truly eerie, and there are some rare ‘moments’. I’m talking about special moments, of the kind that spirit you away from what is ‘just a game’, and take your experience to a higher level. When I came across the family, I remember feeling very deeply a sense of Cohen’s perversion, and later, when Cohen sent his goons at me in waves, and Tchaikovsky’s Waltz of the Flowers burst forth in accompaniment to my slaying them with anti-personnel pistol rounds, pure joy. There’s an abundant supply of these moments in Fort Frolic alone, not to mention every other level in the game, and then there’s the revelatory scene at the end of the first act, which is simply magnificent.

With all this talk of plot and characters and moments, I don’t want to give the impression that the gameplay lying underneath it all isn’t up to scratch. Quite the contrary. Bioshock’s gameplay is diverse in the same way that Deus Ex’s was. There are standard FPS elements given a stylistic treatment, and character development (RPG) options as well.

There are seven weapons in total, all of which can be upgraded at rare weapon upgrade stations. Upgrades take the form of add-ons, all of which are clearly visible on the weapon itself, which I thought was great. Technology in Bioshock is very ‘retro’, so the add-ons are bulky and crude: like an array of pipes on the side of the shotgun, or a combination of gear-like wheels strapped to the pistol to allow for automatic loading of clips.

There are two upgrades for each weapon: one of which increases the base damage, the other one is unique to that weapon. So, for the pistol you can increase clip size, for the shotgun you can increase rate of fire, for the crossbow you can decrease the likelihood that a bolt will shatter upon impact, and so on. The exception to the rule is the chemical thrower, which doesn’t have a damage increase upgrade, instead you can decrease the rate at which it consumes fuel and increase its range.

All the weapons are tremendous fun, even if I found shooting with some of them to be quite disorienting in the beginning, particularly the shotgun. But conventional weapons only represent one way to take on the challenges of Rapture. You get to use plasmids. Plasmids are superhuman powers, developed from a substance – called ‘ADAM’ – derived from a previously undiscovered species of sea slugs. They work like force powers in Jedi Academy, in that you inherit more and more powerful versions of them as you progress through the game.

The first plasmid you get is ‘Electro-Bolt’, a timid version of force lightning, which you have to fire at a control panel to open the way into the Medical Pavilion. Electro-bolt is probably the most multi-purpose plasmid in the game. You can use it like a tazer, stunning an enemy for a short time, or you can electrify a body of water that they happen to be standing in, thereby doing major damage, or you can open doors, as I’ve said, or you can temporarily disable turrets and security cameras.

‘Telekinesis’ can be used to retrieve objects like weapons and ammo that are out of reach, or you can catch grenades that are thrown at you and lob them back (as with the gravity gun in Half-Life 2). ‘Incinerate’ is adequately nasty in its standard deployment – just setting someone on fire – but you can also use it to make an enemy run into nearby water, and then whip-out electro-bolt to finish them off, cackling like a Sith Lord.

In keeping with the retro theme, plasmids are bought from vendors called ‘Gatherer’s Gardens’, which, like the other vendors (for weapons, ammo and other items), look like some cross between a jukebox and a slot-machine, decorated with tacky slogans and caricatures. Whenever you find a Gatherer’s Garden, you have an opportunity to spend your collected ADAM points on whatever plasmids are available, or you can spend them on tonics (passive abilities), additional slots for plasmids or tonics, or upgrades to your health and ‘EVE’ (the substance required to fuel plasmids) capacity. The fact that you have to purchase all this with a limited amount of ADAM means that you’re inevitably making character development choices, all the way through to the end of the game, that have a substantial impact on your gameplay experience.

The choices are tough, but they can be made a lot easier if you decide that you’re an evil bastard. The big selling point of Bioshock was that it had a moral dimension. Rapture is patrolled by ‘Little Sisters’ – toddlers possessed by the slugs implanted into their bodies – and their ‘Big Daddy’ guardians. The Little Sisters travel around Rapture, jabbing their needles into the corpses of Splicers and sucking out the ADAM.

It’s abundantly clear that these girls aren’t enjoying their childhood to the fullest. So, if and when you manage to best a Big Daddy in combat (easier said than done, at least in the first half of the game) you are confronted with a vulnerable Little Sister, and a very obvious choice (obvious in that it pops up in the middle of your screen when you draw near to her). You can either harvest – which means that you rip the slug out of her, and get more ADAM, unfortunately killing her in the process – or rescue – severing the mental hold that the slug has over her but receiving a smaller portion.

I thought that the Little Sister choice was interesting, and I certainly wouldn’t want it out of the game. However, it only serves to create a simplistic Jesus/Hannibal Lecter dichotomy, where there could have been more complexity, with, say, a number of factions desperately trying to get you to fall in line with their individual philosophies. There could have been an option to save the Big Daddies as well. As it is, I felt like I was putting-down a sick dog every time I had to kill one.

It’s also a shame that the choice doesn’t have a stronger impact on your ADAM supply. I stand by my assessment that there are meaningful character development choices to be made, but I realise that, ultimately, if you dedicate yourself to harvesting, you don’t end up with a great deal more ADAM than a rescuer.

You see, if you consistently rescue, you earn the gratitude of the Little Sisters and their ‘mother’, an ex-Nazi doctor by the name of Tenenbaum. Tenenbaum will occasionally thank you by sending a Little Sister out to the Gatherer’s Garden with a present. What’s the present you ask? A healthy dose of ADAM and sometimes a plasmid or tonic that, wait for it, cannot be found anywhere else. So much for the good path being the harder one.

Furthermore, the Little Sister choice is the only one you ever get to make, unlike in Deus Ex, where there were many distinct and important choices to make on each level, in addition to the multiple divergent endings. Again I feel like there’s a parallel to be drawn with Jedi Academy: there’s one central choice that dictates the final outcome of the game.

I feel bad admitting it – because the two games are leagues apart – but I think that Jedi Academy actually does it better. In Jedi Academy, if you chose the Dark Side path, you were forced to contend with both the Sith and your former Jedi colleagues, and at the end you had to face two harder bosses instead of one. If you choose the evil path in Bioshock, your end-game experience is barely changed at all, except for a different cutscene.

Choice, or the lack thereof, is the one major issue I have with Bioshock. There are a number of minor negatives as well. First, the hacking. Hacking in Bioshock consists of a highly derivative mini-game involving swapping tiles around so that liquid can flow from an intake point to an outake point. If you manage that, you can unlock safes, turn turrets and security cameras into friendlies, and bypass keypads.

At first, I didn’t have any problems with it, because I was grateful that some form of hacking was in the game. It soon became a serious irritation, though, because I would often fail to uncover enough tiles to work with before the fluid reached a dead-end, and my health was dealt a grievous blow. It didn’t feel like an exciting challenge; it felt like an annoyance, one that I had to return to again and again.

Second, alcohol. There are a variety of alcoholic drinks scattered all over Rapture for your consumption. They drain health and increase EVE, so they’re designed as a kind of trade-off. But, whereas in reality a bottle of vodka will turn even a veteran drinker into a heap of useless puke-spewing flesh, in Bioshock one can gather up three of four such bottles, a dose of whisky that would render a bull unconscious, and a small cellar’s worth of wine, and not suffer any ill affects beyond a short period of light dizziness. I know that applying medikits to bullet wounds is essentially the same, and we’re all used to medikits, but something about the alcohol didn’t sit well with me.

Third, the AI. At no point was I impressed by the way an enemy attacked me. As in Quake 4, the default tactic was to strafe toward me spraying bullets. Some breeds of Splicer had some interesting plasmids and other genetic abilities that they would make use of, but they never fired from cover, or tried to outmaneuver me. This is explained, to an extent, by their quite blatant mental instability, but it always sucks when you don’t feel like you’re fighting an intelligent enemy. The AI has some pathfinding problems as well. On one occasion in Neptune’s Bounty, a Big Daddy got stuck behind a wall, and a glitch occurred that made him seize back and forth indefinitely. This kind of thing stands right out and momentarily ruins any sense of immersion that the rest of the game had created.

In the final analysis, none of these problems create much of a dent in Bioshock’s crown. Even my main concern – the fact that there’s only one, very limited choice that has a fairly trivial impact on the narrative and the gameplay – isn’t sufficient to spoil one of the greatest stories ever told in a computer game. Yes, Irrational have failed to catch and run with some important balls (character development, morality, mini-games etc.), but the balls they’ve scored with are, I think, more important ones. I mean, these balls are made of solid, 24-carat gold: characters, plot, atmosphere, level design, and it’s harder to slam-dunk a ball if it’s made of gold, so I think they deserve a lot of credit.

✓ Magnificent story
✓ Believable and intriguing characters
✓ Rapture
✓ Philosophical undertones
✓ Plasmids
✗ Disappointing moral dimension
✗ Artificial unintelligence
✗ Rubbish hacking

91%

- Chris

You may or may not know of an old turn-based strategy game by the name of Birth of the Federation. It’s a Star Trek game (in case you couldn’t tell by the title) set in the The Next Generation era (the age of Jean Luc Picard).

Many years ago I played BOTF on a LAN, and back then it was definitely one of my favourite multiplayer games. The LAN was mine, but the game wasn’t, and it was not long before events transpired to separate me from the glorious Star Trek strategy goodness.

For a long while, there was no BOTF, but recently the hunger for it once again took hold of me in earnest, and I found myself buying it for £20 (far too much really) on eBay. As it turned out, it hasn’t aged particularly well in terms of its compatibility with later versions of Windows. For about a year, I have either been unable to connect to a multiplayer game, or - upon a successful connection - unable to sustain one for more than 5 minutes without it locking up.

The past few days have brought good tidings. It has been discovered that setting the BOTF shortcut to boot the game into Windows 95 compatibility mode, instead of the recommended Windows 2000, mostly relieves it of bugs. Now, the old days are renewed, and I fight as the Klingon Empire alongside my ally, the United Federation of Planets. We face the cunning Romulans, combining our fleets of starships so as to crush the enemy.

In the near future I will do BOTF justice, and write a review of it. I tentatively predict it will score well.

- Chris