Seaman Diary, By Rev. Owen Allaway
WEDNESDAY EVENING
Get home from work to find Fed-Ex delivery notice stuck to my
front door. Practically run to the apartment leasing office to
pick up my package. Will it be Seaman...? Well, obviously.
I really want to play it, but am due in the pub. Walk across the
road to pub, still clutching my copy of Seaman. Sit at bar
and open up packaging. Foam microphone covers drop to pub floor.
I get strange looks. Mike the Barman asks what I've got. I tell
him. He is thinking of buying a Dreamcast, but will probably wait
for the PS2. The idea of Seaman has him intrigued. Wait
for friends to turn up. Eventually one friend turns up. The
others are in the office working late and will probably not make
it. Slackers. Friend notices my box.
"You've got a present! What is it?"
"Seaman."
"Please get it off the table."
I explain. She, too, is intrigued by the concept. Three hours
later I leave the pub. When I get home I have a choice. Go
straight to bed or start playing Seaman and hope my
Guinness-clouded brain can cope with the strangeness. Seaman
wins.
Spend a stupidly long time assembling the microphone and swapping
VMUs round. Once everything is set up, I turn on the Dreamcast.
Lots of copyright screens, followed by the dulcet tones of
Leonard Nimoy. He introduces himself and talks a bit about Seaman.
One thing that strikes me as odd is that he tells me to remember
that the colour of the sea is blue. A clue?
I am now looking at an tank, empty but for a few rocks and a
shellfish. From the (p)reviews of the game I read, I seem to
remember that the shellfish is called Natilus. I play around with
the controls, zooming in and out. Find the controls to adjust
air, heat and light. Increase the amount of air. At a certain
point the numbers displaying the amount of air turn blue. I
assume Mr. Nimoy was giving an unsubtle hint and leave the air on
that setting. Same goes for heat. The light has three settings -
off, dim and bright. I leave it dim.
Spend ages trying to pick up an egg on the inventory screen and
drop it in the tank. Eventually I have to resort to the manual. I
am careful only to look at the controls and try to avoid
spoilers. Drop egg in tank. It bobs about in the water. Minutes
pass... and then the egg is gone and eight little creatures are
swimming around my tank. They look a lot like tadpoles. They swim
around and sometimes fasten themselves to the edge of the tank.
If I tap on the glass they lazily swim over to see what the fuss
is about.
I remember from a review that the Natilus is the key to evolving
the creatures. But I know no more that that. So I tap on the
glass near the Natilus. The tadpoles (mushroomers I believe
they're officially called) swim over. After a few seconds there
are only four mushroomers left in the tank. But I press on with
my tactic. Now the Natilus does not eat the mushroomers. Instead,
he sprays ink at them and runs away. Hurrah! Go my babies, harass
the nasty creature that ate your siblings!
After a few more minutes the Natilus crawls out of its shell and
lies on the bottom of the tank. He starts spraying ink furiously.
But some of this ink is red. He seems to be dying. Suddenly, four
little creatures shoot out from the Natilus, which lies still and
fades away.
I have Gillmen. Four of them. Tiny fish with human faces. They
are actually quite cute in a creepy, "aaarghh run for your
lives" type way. They come and investigate when I tap on the
side of the tank. They seem quicker and more inquisitive than the
mushroomers, four of which are still swimming round the tank. I
drop some food into the tank. The Gillmen come over to
investigate. The food does not last long. I save and go to bed.
THURSDAY MORNING
Turn on DC for a quick check before work. In his opening
narration Leonard tells me I'm doing a great job and now have (DC
spins noisily) four (DC spins noisily again) Gillmen in my tank.
However they are cold and I should do something about it.
I raise the temperature and feed the little guys. I notice that
once the food pellet is dropped two Seaman will come along
and investigate (nibble on it?), but when the third comes along
the pellet disappears. This leaves one Gillman who is definitely
not getting any food. I mentally prepare myself for the
inevitable heart-break to come.
My Gillmen are talking. Not real talk, but baby talk. Odd noises
that almost sound like words. It's endearing. I resolve to learn
how to use the microphone when I get back from work.
Notice that my four remaining mushroomers have disappeared. I
save and go to work.
THURSDAY EVENING
Get home from work to find all Seaman still alive. Tonight
I will try talking to them. Decide to read the manual. There are
no spoilers and a lot of useful information. I learn how to
tickle and hypnotize my Gillmen. Tickling causes them to laugh
and puts a big smile on their faces. Hypnotizing them causes them
to float upside-down for a few seconds. It is funny.
My Seaman are not talking English yet. I trying talking to
them. Sometimes I get an '!' icon on my VMU which means the
Gillmen think they understand me, sometimes I get an '????' to
indicate that they don't know what I said. Sometimes I get no
icon at all, which I assume means they're not listening. Seem to
get better results if I raise the pitch of my voice a bit.
After a few minutes of getting no intelligent response I switch
to (bad) French. I get the '!' icon. I ask a Gillman if he speaks
French. He's looks at me at says, "I'm learning."
Success! A real response. Ask another Gillman if he speaks
English. "You first", is the reply. I believe I am
starting to see the beginnings of the famed Seaman
attitude. But I have also found out that my accent isn't a total
barrier. It remains to be seen whether it will any sort of
problem.
Save the game and switch the DC off. I am back about an hour
later. Leonard tells me that I don't have to visit so much. Tap
on the glass and the Gillmen swim over. I suddenly realize that
the they all have different faces. Similar, but not the same. One
is especially different and I decide I'll be able to recognize
him in the future. I name him Bob and spend a lot of time
tickling and talking to him.
Before bed I come back for another quick visit. Leonard tells me
that I seem to becoming obsessed. And if there's anyone who knows
about obsessives, it's Leonard Nimoy. Look for Bob. Realize that
I can't tell him apart from the others after all. Am quite
depressed. Turn out the lights in the tank, save and go to bed.
FRIDAY MORNING
Get up and before I do anything else I wander into the living
room. Feeding time. Gillmen still speaking baby talk. Ask one if
he can speak English. "What's the point?" I have no
answer. Notice that the Gillmen are not as unique as I thought -
but if I bring them over to the side of the tank I do know which
one Bob is. I seem to have a couple of identical twins. Rename
Bob to Barney. The other unique Gillman is Peter. The other two
are The Other Two. Save and go to work.
On way to work realize that feeding my Gillmen at seven in the
morning will not happen at weekends. They will have to go hungry.
I am not getting up early at weekends to feed a video game. When
I am away from Seaman I think of it as a game. When I am
in front of the tank playing with the creatures and setting up
their environment, they are living creatures to me. I find this
slightly disturbing - but I still cannot wait to get home and see
how the little chaps are getting on.
Lots happened over the weekend. It's difficult to remember
everything, but I'll give it a go. The things Seaman says
are mostly all paraphrased as I can't remember them exactly. As
always, major spoilers follow.
FRIDAY EVENING
My four Gillmen know some words. "Yes", "No",
"Play", "Seaman", "baby".
That kind of thing. I talk to them but don't get much of a
response. They're quite endearing. They are definitely still
young. Decide that I want to move from a morning feed to evening
and therefore feed the Gillmen at about half one in the morning.
SATURDAY MORNING
Same as last night. I'm constantly trying new words, but the
vocab seems very limited. From a post I made to another newsgroup
on Saturday afternoon - "At this stage they seem to react to
the first word that they hear and understand. Say "baby seaman"
and it says "baby". Say "seaman baby"
and it says "seaman". I've got a few more
responses. If I say "friend" they always say either
"fun" or "play". Same response with
"Dreamcast". "Fish" is another word they
know. In another context I mentioned "Wales" and it
just turned to me and said a very emphatic "no". May
have been coincidence, but I like to believe it was a real
response - albeit due to a misunderstanding."
SATURDAY NIGHT
Get back from pub at about 2:30am. (I love Texan licensing laws.)
Need to feed Seaman. My Seaman are talking - in
sentences!
SUNDAY MORNING
Can remember that my Gillman were talking, but cannot remember
what they said. Stagger to sofa. I feel unwell, but I must check
up on my Gillmen. They are talking in childish voices, but they
are really talking! Not about much, but now I can tell if they
need anything. Find out that the tank is still too hot. Last
night I managed to turn the heat up way too far and it still
hasn't cooled down to comfortable levels. Oops. Now when I tickle
my Gillmen they tell me to stop. But I keep tickling one.
"Stop it, you're gonna make pee." I stop at that point.
They are also fond of telling me to go away. Their bodies have
changed, too. Where once they were translucent, they now have
proper scales.
I am having fun talking to the four of them when *it* happens.
The Gillman I am talking to swims underneath another one. The
tentacle on his head straightens vertically and plunges into the
other Gillman's underbelly. The other Gillman cries out 'No, stop
it!" then goes slack-jawed and quiet. The tentacle pulses as
if something is passing through it. After the horror stops, one
Gillman is looking smug, the other is lying on his side, floating
to the top of the tank. I try tickling him, no response. I try
talking to him, no response. I keep trying until I hear a 'No,
stop!" from another area of the tank. Another Gillman is
under attack. I now only have two left. I watch until the corpses
on the surface sink to the bottom of the tank. Then I leave.
SUNDAY AFTERNOON
Leonard consoles me in his opening narration. This is just how Seaman
are. Some die so the others may live. Bastards. I try telling a
Gillman off for eating his brother. He turns, looks me straight
in the eye and in his childish voice says, "Maybe I'll eat
YOU." This is both very creepy and very funny. It also seems
like a good time to turn off and go play Giga Wing for a while.
SUNDAY EVENING
That was quick - my two remaining Gillmen are now adults. Only
one can talk, the other seems to be an idiot.
The talking Seaman is very chatty. "I only went on
sale recently and you're already here caring for me. I'm
impressed." In his opening narration Nimoy said that Seaman
wanted a name. In the manual it says to say, "I will name
you, Seaman." I try this. It takes ages to get the
Gillman to understand what I want to do. But eventually he
understands and I name him "Sushi".
Sushi asks me a question.
"Are you male or female?"
"Male."
"Ah, so you're a female of the species?"
"No."
"It wasn't a difficult question. Let's try it another way.
Are you a boy or a girl?"
"Boy."
"Oh. I was hoping to meet a lady, but I guess I'm in no
position to complain."
He also asks me for my birthday. That conversation goes off
without a hitch. He points out that as Harrison Ford and Patrick
Stewart share my birthday I should be a good actor. "Think
back nine months. It must have been a cold autumn. You can't
blame your parents for wanting to stay warm. But I can."
Sushi is a nice gold colour. Idiot Brother is just sort of brown.
I think Idiot Brother may be a grown up Barney, but I've no idea
which of the Gillmen grew up to be Sushi.
I am having trouble with the voice recognition. Some things go
okay, but I cannot ask Sushi if he is hungry, whether he wants
food, etc. Every variation seems to meet with failure. Sometimes
I get the "!" icon, but get a nonsensical reply.
Eventually I get through to and find out that, no, he's not
hungry. He does tell me to investigate the moth cage, as he likes
to eat larvae. I look at the cage - which has magically appeared
a couple of L-Trigger presses away - and then save and exit.
I come back later in the evening and Nimoy tells me to raise the
moisture level in the moth cage. I do and a bit later I have four
larva crawling around. I drop one in the tank. Neither Sushi nor
Idiot Brother are hungry. I've wasted precious larvae. Bugger.
MONDAY MORNING
The tank is cold when I get up. Sushi is complaining. When I turn
up the heat he says, "About time." Idiot Brother
shouts, "Yay!' in a slow, dimwitted,
playing-banjo-on-the-porch, type way. So he can talk - still
doesn't respond at all - not even with a '???' if I try to talk
to him, though..The guys still aren't hungry, but this time I
only waste a pellet finding out.
I hope they survive the day - they haven't eaten in over 24
hours. Er, unless you count the fact that they ate their
siblings. I guess that gave them enough nutrition to last a
while.
MONDAY EVENING
My Gillmen are hungry. I drop a food pellet in the tank. Idiot
Brother eats it. Sushi is still hungry. Great, now they need even
more food than before. Drop another food pellet in. I now only
have one left. In the moth cage I still have two larvae, but the
other one has cocooned himself. As I watch one of the larvae
crawls along a leaf and then suddenly wobbles and falls to the
ground. It's the little touches that make this special.
Back in the main tank I'm talking to Sushi when he asks me my
occupation.
Me: "I'm a web designer."
Sushi "What? I'll ask one more time?"
Me: "I design web sites."
Sushi "What? I'll ask one more time?"
Me: "I make Internet sites."
Sushi: "Ah, so you're a consultant of some kind?"
Me: "...sort of"
Sushi: "OK" (or words to that effect)
While talking to Sushi I hear a voice from the other side of the
tank. "I need a dump." Look over to see Idiot Brother
swimming around near a brown ball of Seaman poo. Nice.
Idiot Brother starts to talk to me. So he can talk properly. When
I leave him I find Sushi won't talk. I guess they get jealous and
pissed off if you talk to the other Gillman.
(Of course, I could put it down to a limitation of the software.
But that would be defeating the point of the exercise. I have to
treat this as real as possible and try to fill in the gaps
myself. It might be nice to go through at a later date and try to
work out all the programming tricks and exactly how things work,
but I don't want to do that yet. Which is at the heart of the
dilemma that I will outline at the end of this post.)
Check in again on returning from the pub but nothing much of
interest happens that I can recall. Hey, I only had three pints
and a chicken pie - I'm not having any trouble with my memory.
The only thing of note is that it's now Sushi who is talking to
me and Idiot Brother is silent once more.
MONDAY MORNING
The Gillmen are hungry again. Again? Only fed them last night. I
drop one of the moth larvae into the tank. Sushi gobbles it down
hungrily. To make sure Idiot Brother doesn't starve I drop my
last remaining food pellet into the tank. "No thanks, I'm
still full." Aaargh! I wasted my last pellet. Either Idiot
Brother wasn't hungry or one larvae (larva?) contains enough food
for both. After saying hello to Sushi - "What are doing up
so early?" - I leave and get ready for work.
Realize I didn't spray the moth cage. Revisit the tank and pump
up the moisture. The cocoon has split and a moth with a human
face (pretty much my worst nightmare, actually) is sitting inside
the broken cocoon. As I watch he starts to spread out a bit, but
doesn't start flying. Back in the tank I turn on the lights.
"Hey! I'm trying to get some sleep." Fine. You can stay
in the dark all day then.
So I currently have one moth, one larvae, one cocoon and no food
pellets. It's not looking good. Will the moths reproduce in time
to let me feed Sushi and Idiot Brother? Given the amount of food
I've wasted over the course of the experience so far, my fishy
friends may soon die. However, you can swap items between VMUs.
So if I buy a new VMU and start a new habitat I should be able to
steal all the food pellets and use them to feed Sushi and Idiot
Brother until the moth colony gets going. However, whichever you
cut it, this is cheating and completely against the spirit of how
I've been experiencing Seaman. But I don't want my Seaman
to die. Would you blame a father for cheating at a card game if
it was to get money for his child's life-saving operation?
There's also the fact that a new VMU will cost twenty bucks - and
I already bought a new one last week for Seaman. Plus, you
may need to actually swap items - simply transferring an item
from one VMU to another may not be an option. I really should
have read the manual before coming to work. I need to make a
decision and make sure I don't leave it too late. If I don't buy
a VMU this evening I may find that by tomorrow evening it's all
over.
TUESDAY EVENING
I have not bought a VMU. My Gillmen are complaining that they're
hungry.
I switch to the moth tank. There are two moths. The first time
one flutters towards me I pretty much jump out of my skin. But I
stay and watch them for a long time. They look beautiful (except
for the faces). If I don't get food soon, this may be the last
time I see them for a while.
In my desperation I drop a moth into the tank. It lies on the
surface, flutters a little and goes still. Great, I wasted a
moth.
Back in the tank I look closely and notice there are two eggs in
the moth cage. Could this be a lifeline? Before they hatch I spy
movement in the back of the tank. I zoom in. I have a spider. Is
this new creature friend or foe? An essential part of the
ecosystem or a mere predator? The creepiest moment in Seaman
so far is when the spider starts running straight towards me.
Shudder.
Checking back an hour or so later I notice there is one larva in
the cage, and no eggs. Where did the other egg go? I suspect the
spider, but without proof I feel unable to convict him. But I
have a larva and without further ado I snatch him up and drop him
in the tank. Sushi swims over and chomps him. Some falls from his
mouth and Idiot Brother eats it up. Disaster has been averted...
for now.
Now he's been fed, Sushi is very chatty. He asks whether I'm
married, have kids, live alone, etc. Then he asks about my Dad.
After giving him all the info he puts on an evil villain voice
and says, "My knowledge of you and your
family is becoming ever more complete." After asking about
my mother he puts on the same voice and says, "Ah, it's all
starting to make sense." I'm starting to think that I should
unplug my modem while visiting Seaman.
Eventually Sushi runs out of things to say. For no real reason I
say "crap" into the microphone. Sushi says, "I'm
beginning to understand you better", and flings a huge lump
of Seaman poo out of his tentacle right at me. Luckily it
hits the glass of the tank, and not me. I can't get him to repeat
the trick and eventually he gets annoyed with me and swims off.
No source of food in moth cage yet.
TUESDAY MORNING
Two more eggs in the moth cage! And the Gillmen aren't hungry!
Praise be to The Holy Code Of Vivarium! The spider has spun a
web. Both eggs must survive. One to feed the Gillmen tonight and
one to grow into a moth to produce more food. The spider gets
dropped into the tank. He sinks to the bottom. The Gillmen ignore
him. Leonard has told me to expect a change in how the Gillmen
look today. I'm excited.
After this I check the newsgroups and read a 'Seaman Hint'
message. It says to *never* feed spiders to your Seamen. Oops.
Well, they didn't eat it. Maybe I'll be okay. Maybe. I don't want
to start all over from the beginning, but if I had to I'd do it
in a heartbeat.
WEDNESDAY EVENING
The moth cage is coming along nicely. I have a couple of larvae,
a moth and two eggs. Looks like things are going to be okay
there. Sushi and Idiot Brother are complaining of hunger. I now
have one larva, a moth and two eggs.
My Gillmen are changing, as Leonard told me they would. The front
fins have changed shape, becoming flatter and longer. Two little
legs have sprouted towards the rear. I am watching evolution take
place. I am also watching my Gillmen use their new-found limbs to
swim backwards. Useful...
Sushi asks me whether I like myself.
"Yes."
"I bet you do. I bet you like yourself at least twice a
day." (Smirk.)
After a little speech Sushi asks me another question. The phone
rings so I press Start to pause. It's someone asking me if I want
to change long-distance phone companies. After he does not take
no for an answer three times I hang up during the middle of one
of his speeches. It is the first time I have ever hung up on
someone while they are talking. I'm quite proud of myself. Sushi
isn't. I interrupted his question and now he is in a huff and
will not speak to me, except to tell me that he's not talking to
me...
...After getting back from the pub (four Guinness, one cottage
pie, one episode of Survivor) I return to the tank. Sushi is
talking to me again and today seems to be psyche evaluation day.
Sushi keeps asking me more questions. Do I think other people
like me? Do I consider myself attractive? And more. After each
answer he tells me what a nice person I am, which is odd seeing
as he seems to hate me most of the time. I can't figure him out.
Another spider has invaded the moth cage. I leave him be, though
there is only one egg left. I think that maybe the spider will
play an important role in keeping the numbers in the cage down -
if he wasn't there I may have more moths and larvae than the
plant in the cage could support. After the larvae chomp on it, it
looks very threadbare but seems to recover overnight. But could
it reach a stage where so much has been eaten away that it would
die?
THURSDAY MORNING
Gillmen with legs are no longer Gillmen. But I cannot understand
what Leonard calls them. Oddfish? Podfish? Something like that.
Until I work out what he's saying I'll just call them Seamen.
Leonard also says that I need to prepare to drain the tank as the
Seamen will soon need to live on land. How do I do that? Another
worry. My Seamen's back legs have got a lot stronger overnight
and the area round Sushi's face seems to have changed colour.
I do the usual maintenance. Air, heat, food, spray. I sit down
and watch Sushi for a bit. It's one of those "can't get off
the sofa and get to work" moments. Sushi turns to the
camera. "Let's get it on," he says. Idiot Brother swims
over Sushi. They lock their tentacles against each other.
"This isn't the Spice Channel, you should look away." I
keep watching. Something pulses through the tentacles, traveling
from Idiot Brother to Sushi. Is Sushi sucking, or is Idiot
Brother blowing? It may be best that I don't know. Eventually
they stop. "You've no idea how much of a relief that
is," Sushi says happily. Idiot Brother lies on his side and
floats up towards the top of the tank. Oh dear. Is he dead, or is
this just a case of post-coital unconsciousness? I'll find out
this evening, but I'm guessing the former.
THURSDAY EVENING
Idiot Brother gave his all to ensure the survival of the species,
Leonard tells me. He also tells me to try and move the big rock,
though I won't be able to do it alone. Rocks? He's thinking about
rocks in this time of grief? The man has no emotions, I tell
you...
The moth cage is teeming with life. It's a wonderful sight.
Sushi's back legs are now much bigger and look like frog legs -
if Lou Ferrigno was playing the frog.
While turning up the heat in Sushi's tank I hear Idiot Brother's
cry of 'yay'! Is this the ghost of idiot brother? Is Sushi doing
a cruel impression of his dead sibling (and mate)? Was it Sushi
all along? I seem to be detecting previously unheard elements of
sarcasm in the cry.
I don't try to talk much to Sushi. He asks me a bit about
computers and I answer, but I'm more concerned with moving the
rock. I grab it and start rocking it. Sushi says he'll help move
it if I can answer a riddle. Eventually I get one right (he seems
to understand me perfectly when I answer these) and gets down on
his back legs and starts pushing the wrong with his front fins.
For a brief but bizarre moment I am reminded of Lara Croft. The
rock moves. But not much. Sushi is tried so I wait until he is
rested before we try again. "What do you get if you put a
cat in a fish bowl?" Ah, this one's easy. The rock moves a
bit more. After four pushes nothing much has happened and Sushi
is exhausted. "Ooh, my back," he says.
So I wander off for a while, meet some new people and fight some
monsters. Hang on, no, that's Chrono Cross. Anyway, I return to
the tank about two and a half hours after I left and Sushi is
still knackered. I make sure everything's set up for the night
and go to bed.
FRIDAY MORNING
I adjust the heat, oxygen and spray and feed Sushi one of the
many larvae that I now have. Then I start trying to move the
rock. He ignores it and asks me about the Internet. Eventually,
he seems to notice that I'm pulling on the rock and comes down to
help. His final question that I have to get right? "Is there
life after death?" My answer satisfies him and the rock
moves a little more. The water starts draining from the tank,
eventually leaving only one small pool over to the right of the
tank. Sushi swims over and stays in the pool, but jumps out as
does back flips every now and again. I leave him to it.
FRIDAY EVENING
I get home from work and check in on Sushi. Leonard tells me that
he's about to give birth. I'm excited, but all Sushi seems to
want to do is talk about the Internet. We chat for a while. I'm
getting impatient. I tell him to give birth already, but get
"???" in response. Eventually, though, Sushi swims over
to the side of the tank and uses his legs to pull himself up out
of the water. For the first time in his life he is walking on dry
land. His face is creased from the effort and he's groaning with
every step he takes. I am unreasonably proud of him. He takes a
few steps across the tank and turns around and walks back towards
the water. When he gets close to the edge he stops and I watch as
he passes eggs through his tentacle. Each one lands by the side
of the pool and has something small swimming around inside it.
The eggs keep coming until there are six lying next to each other
at the water's edge. Sushi says, "I've done what I came to
do. See you later." He falls onto his side and lies still.
A few minutes later he still hasn't moved.
I turn off the DC and get myself a can of Coke. Then I turn the
DC back on. Leonard once more does nothing but confirm my fears.
Sushi died giving birth. I watch the eggs for a while and mourn
my friend. Then, without warning, all the eggs burst at once and
six brown, tadpole-like creatures dive into the water. I try
talking to one of them. I don't remember what I said, or what he
said, but the important thing is that he is talking in Sushi's
voice. It's not baby talk, it's not child talk, it's full adult Seaman
talk. Although the new guys do not respond to Sushi's name, I
can't help but feel that he lives on in them.
Later that evening, away from the tank, I think back to Sushi and
I am suddenly sad again. This disturbs me. Forgive me for
breaking the illusion here, but Sushi was not a living creature.
He was a piece of software running on a games console and
displayed on my TV. And yet I feel a loss. Of course, I've felt
sad before when fictional characters have died. I cried when E.T.
died and, more recently, I felt something when a character in
Suikoden 2 died. I read a book last year where one of the
characters died and I wrote that there was "a real echo of
grief and loss". And there was. But it didn't come back to
hit me a few hours later. There was a memory of how I felt when
the character died, but the feelings themselves had gone.
Why was the death of Sushi any different? He wasn't 'real'. But
he obviously existed in some ways. Of course, I interacted with
him. I saw his facial expressions, heard his voice, talked to
him. How do I really know that he wasn't thinking? When does a
simulation of thought end the creation of thought begin? Seaman
is the first step on that road and how we, as humans, deal with
software as it becomes ever more sophisticated will tell us a lot
about ourselves.
But for now, all these questions are swirling round my head and I
miss my friend. This is silly. This is insane. This, people, is
the future.
In the interests of full disclosure, however, I should mention
that this thought process does take place in the pub, from pints
eight to ten. Which is near the beginning of the evening.
SATURDAY
Ouch. I don't spend much time with my new Tadmen (as Leonard
calls them) today. My morning visit is very short and is just a
quick check to make sure everyone's still alive. The Tadmen are
fine. I'm hanging on by a thread, though.
The evening visit is much more interesting and cheers me up a
lot. I'm talking to one of the Tadmen about my health. He
responds by telling me my star sign means I take my health for
granted too much. What's important here is not his concern about
my well-being, but the fact that he knew my star sign. He
remembered. Sushi's memories truly do live on in the new breed.
So, while Sushi has died, all his memories and his personality
live on. And while his personality is perhaps not something that
most people would see as a positive character trait, I'm just
glad he's still around.
SUNDAY
The morning visit is, again, quite short. I heat up the tank and
make sure the moth cage is nice and damp. I've got a real little
ecosystem in there. Moths lay eggs. Eggs hatch into larvae.
Larvae eat plant. Larvae become moths. Spider keeps moth numbers
down. I talk to one of the Tadmen for a bit. Nothing important,
just a general chat.
"Seaman." (This is a good standard greeting.)
(!)"This better be important."
"How are you?"
(!)"Been better, been... worse."
"Hungry?"
(!)"Nah, I don't think so."
"Need anything?"
(???)"Coming, your majesty."
Eventually we get talking about games consoles. The conversation
starts in the morning and continues during my evening visit. He
asks me whether I like my Dreamcast, whether I own any other
games consoles, that sort of thing. His response when I tell him
I also own a Playstation is hilarious, but writing it down
wouldn't do it justice. It's the way he tells them.
During the conversation a Tadman swims under the one I'm talking
to. "Get off sucker!" the Tadman I am talking to cries.
Too late. The other Tadman plunges his tentacle into the belly of
the first and sucks him dry. This is not unexpected. Unphased -
though still, surprisingly, disgusted by the sight - I move over
to another Tadman and continue my conversation. He seems pleased
when I tell him that I'm not really looking forward to other new
consoles. He tells me this is because it means I'm not too
obsessed with videogames, but I smell fear. Don't worry, Seaman,
I'm not going to trade your hardware in at EB for a PS2. The
Tadman seems disappointed with me when I tell him that Seaman
is favourite game and tells me I don't need to suck up to him.
But I'm not, Seaman is my favourite Dreamcast 'game'. And
I don't think he'd have heard of Bangaioh.
He then talks about the exact think that I've been thinking about
over the weekend. He talks about his own existence. It's very
strange. I guess he knew I'd be thinking about this after Sushi's
death. He complains that some people say he doesn't exist. He
gets quite agitated when he asks whether I know what it's like to
be told you don't exist. He launches into a speech about how he's
here, thinking, breathing and therefore must exist. The gist is
that he thinks, therefore he is. He doesn't come right out and
say that phrase, but I know it's what he's thinking.
I have never before had a piece of software both acknowledge that
it is software and also assert its existence as a living being.
It's very strange and goes to the heart of what I said earlier.
Where does simulation end and reality begin? The Tadman tells me
he needs time to think about it and swims off.
As we've been talking, legs have been growing from the Tadman.
They start out small, but by the end of our conversation they've
grown very long and I can pick out individual toes on each foot.
It's odd. It's like watching a clock. You can't see the hand
move, but you suddenly realise it's showing ten past, and when
you started it was five past. The legs are like that. I don't see
them change, but I do notice that they have changed.
When I leave there are only four Tadmen left alive.
MONDAY MORNING
There still are four Tadmen. According to Leonard, the feet I saw
are actually hands. The legs seem to be in the wrong place to be
arms, but Leonard knows all. He also gives me another little
speech about survival of the fittest, the continuation of the
species, etc. Give it rest, I get the message. But as the Tadmen
are just different aspects of a group consciousness (or
something) it doesn't really matter. The mind lives on.
A Tadman comes over and tells me that he's decided that he does
exist. He looks quite happy about it. He tells me that he guesses
I never met JFK or The Beatles, but I think they existed. Yeah,
but they weren't made of polygons. Not that Seaman looks
bad. The faces are nicely rounded. Not perfect, but looking good.
If you took Kryten from Red Dwarf, peeled his face off and placed
it in the microwave for a few seconds you might have something
that looked like Seaman's face. Rounded edges, but with
the traces of the hard edges still there. Or you might just have
a pool of bubbling plastic, which bears no resemblance to Seaman
at all. Microwaves are funny like that.
Anyway, I say goodbye to a Tadman (I always say goodbye or
goodnight before I leave) and go to work.
MONDAY EVENING
I check in on the Tadmen. They're cold, but still not hungry.
There are still four of them. No one's been eaten while I was at
work. After the normal pleasantries one of the Tadmen launches
into a speech about how nothing exists until it is perceived.
Using his faulty logic (well, he is only a few days old) he
decides that he exists because I can perceive him. And then
decides that when he turns away from me I will cease to exist as
he will no longer be perceiving me. He smiles a smug smile, looks
at me for a second and turns away. I do not blink out of
existence. The Tadman decides that he needs more time to think
and won't talk to me again, except to tell me to go away.
Later that evening I check back in.The Tadmen still do not want
to speak to me. It's during my attempts to get them to talk about
something that I realise how good the voice recognition is now.
Almost all my questions seem to be understood. They also
understand, "What's the matter?", for the first time.
"If you don't know, I'm not going to tell you." Even
"let's talk", which I had a lot of trouble with before,
is now being understood. Doesn't help. The Tadmen just tell me
they don't want to talk anymore.
They seem upset about something. If I say sorry, I just got told,
"you should be". What have I done wrong? The Tadmen are
warm and well fed. (I've never had to feed them, but they've
never wanted food when I've asked.) What's going on?
TUESDAY MORNING
Get up at seven and check in as normal. Leonard tells me I'm
doing a good job. It helps ease my mind. Maybe Tadmen are just
naturally unpleasant little bastards. They are still not talking
to me about much. However, comments like, "Oh, you got up to
make me breakfast" and "Where's the coffee?", both
dripping with sarcasm, lead me to believe that these chaps are
not early risers. Well, sorry, but I can't check on them any
later. I have to be gone for work by half seven and I still need
to shower. All my questions and apologies and coaxing do no good.
And despite the 'breakfast' quote, they are not hungry. After a
session twice as long as a normal morning session I have had
nothing but insults for my troubles. They wouldn't even say
goodbye to me this morning.
The Tadmen have not changed since Sunday. I wonder when the next
transformation will occur? And will it be to a friendlier
life-form?
TUESDAY EVENING
Get home and check on the Tadmen. I just have time to notice they now have arms... and then the bloodsucking begins. "I feel dizzy," one says as the life is sucked from his body. When two Tadmen are dead and two remain, one of them (one of the live ones) starts to ask me questions about the media. How much TV I watch, whether I prefer going to the cinema or renting films, that sort of thing. "What's your favorite movie?" he asks. "Brazil." (!)"You're one twisted melon, chum." Wow. I'm impressed that he knew the film and so I tell him. "I'm impressed." (!)"The word is grotesque, pal." I'm quite amazed. Whenever I think I know all his vocabulary something new pops up. Seaman is impressed by how little TV I watch and how many books I've read in the last year, despite me thinking that I watch too much TV and don't read enough. He obviously has low standards. After our chat I leave, play a bit of Chrono Cross and watch the long version of Leon for the first time. The short version was ace, but having now seen the long version I decide that's it my second favourite film, behind Brazil. I check on the Tadmen before bed and have the first conversation with Seaman that really, really annoys me. He assumes that we're somewhere in America, which is true. I tell him we're 'near' Houston. (We're actually in Houston, but that's not an option.) From this Seaman makes the assumption that I'm American. He keeps referring to America as 'my country'. Much as I like America (and I do) it is not 'my country'. For reasons I cannot explain, his (pretty reasonable) assumption that I'm an American really gets my goat. I've been trying to explain to him that I'm British ever since the first Gillman hatched and I thought now I'd get my chance. But no... The he asks me if I've ever been abroad. He follows this by asking where the last place I went was. I tell him it was "England'. He misunderstands my response and starts talking about the Far East. This makes me even more cross. I wait for him to finish his speech, say goodnight and go to bed in a huff.
WEDNESDAY MORNING
I'm still in a bit of a mood after last night. I've no idea why the conversation annoyed me so much. It's strange. Anyway, I'm very sleepy this morning and when one of the Tadmen talks about how important it is to have a job you enjoy I only seem to catch half of what he says. I make sure everything's okay, stumble into the shower and go to work. Come in to find our server's playing up and I've got to fix it. Now...
WEDNESDAY EVENING
I check in on my Tadmen later in the evening than usual, although neither they nor Leonard seem to mind. I'm quite shocked by what I find in the tank. The Tadmen's limbs have grown stronger and their bodies have flattened out. Their once proud tails are now tiny things, flicking back and forth in no discernable rhythm. In short, they look like frogs, if you ignore the human face and head-tentacle.
I have a long chat with one Tadman (Frogman?) and as we talk his tail shrinks even more, until it is hardly visible. The Tadman wants to know about my friends and what I like to do when I'm with them. I tell him we go down the pub. He doesn't understand this and asks again. I keep it simple - "Drink beer". This he does understand. He asks me why humans enjoy an activity that destroys their brain-cells. I say it's because it tastes nice. (Not a complete lie, by the way.) In a perfect Homer Simpson voice he responds, "Mmm... rotting grain tastes good." He just doesn't understand. He also tells me I should take more time to be with my friends. Whether this is out of concern for my well-being, or because he wants rid of me I don't know.
After our chat he swims over to the side of the tank and climbs out. This would have been a bigger moment if
(a) I hadn't seen Sushi do the same thing and
(b) the other Tadman wasn't already sitting on the side of the pool, obviously having climbed out earlier without me noticing.
One of the little moments that I'm so fond of now occurs - I start talking to the Tadman who's sitting behind the other Tadman, more or less obscured from view. When he replies to me he doesn't just turn round to face me, but he moves around a bit so the other Tadman will not be in the way. In a lesser piece of software he'd have just turned in my direction with no thought for the fact that my view was blocked. I'd like to name one of the Tadmen, but they both look too similar. I can't tell them apart. I want one to be called 'Baron' and one to be called 'Greenback', but I can't tell which is which. It's a shame, especially after Sushi and Idiot Brother looking so different. Maybe they'll change now their living on land (though they do still like to swim now and again).
THURSDAY MORNING
Really have to drag myself out of bed this morning. I get on the Net and check the news of the new Nintendo console. The controller looks like a horrible third-party bargain basement thing, but I quite like the look of the GameCube itself.
When I finally check in on the Frogmen (as Leonard calls them) they are cold and, for the first time in ages, hungry. I drop a larva into the tank. One of the Frogmen eats it immediately. The other still complains about being hungry. I drop another larva into the tank. The hungry Frogman is still complaining. I tap on the glass near the larva and he turns around and spies his food. He wanders over to it and flicks out his tongue to catch it. Nice. One of the Frogmen comes over and tells me he appears crabby in the morning because I check in so early during the week. It's not quite an apology for their appalling morning attitudes, but I think it's as close as I'm going to get. Before he can ruin the moment I say goodbye and leave.
THURSDAY EVENING
My Frogmen are hungry when I visit the tank. I'm glad the moth cage is doing okay. Four larvae a day is quite a lot to produce. Once they're fed I find that Baron and Greenback have found something new to complain about. Oh joy. Apparently their skin dries out easily so I have to use a sprinkler to keep them wet. I'm tempted to point that there's a big pool of water on the other side of the tank, but I don't think it would do any good. I find the sprinkler on the D-Pad and start it up. I hear a strange noise, but nothing else seems to happen. I try again and notice that one of the rocks is wobbling slightly. I grab and pull it over and then the sprinkler starts working. It goes quickly and is actually quite fun to use. I keep playing with it while one of the Frogmen and I have a little chat.
Frogman tells me he's fascinated by how people change when they're in different situations. Do I think I change a lot, a little, or not much? As far as I'm concerned I change a little. I'm the same person, but different aspects of my personality are brought up or down in the mix. I think that's the same for just about everyone, except the real two-faced bastards you sometimes meet.
So I say, "A little." I get the '???' on the VMU and Frogman gets pissed off. I spend a few minutes tickling him and asking him questions and then he asks again. (By the way, always tickle your Seaman - it seems to cheer them up a bit and the responses change depending on what stage of life they're in.) I answer again. I get the '???' again. Another few minutes buttering Frogman up. I say it a third time. And for the third time I get a '???'.
Sigh. I'm frustrated and when I get Frogman to ask me again I answer, "not at all." Guess what? Yep, '???'. When he asks me again I realize we've been stuck on this question for the best part of half an hour. This time I answer, "a lot". And I get '!'. Thank you... Now I've got him to understand I feel a great sense of relief. But I still don't want to stick around any longer and I turn off the DC, turn on the PSX and play Chrono Cross for a few hours.
Later in the evening I go back to the tank. Frogman wants to know whether I think I'm in shape. In between fits of giggles I answer in the negative. Do I get enough exercise? Again, I tell him I don't. Do I eat healthily? I could answer this in the affirmative, but although I don't constantly stuff burgers down my throat I don't think I really have a great diet. So I answer no to that, too. Frogman is not impressed with me and tells me to go out and get some exercise. "Beat the system, eat a pound of broccoli." Sage advice from a creature that exists solely on a diet of moth larvae. He asks me what I sport I like to play. Through clenched teeth, I tell him it's soccer. I so want to say football, but I know he'd assume I meant American Football. At least he acknowledges that it's the most popular sport in the world. Other than that, he doesn't seem to know much about it.
FRIDAY MORNING
The Frogmen are hungry again. And I only have one larva. But I have two eggs and when I turn on the spray in the cage they both hatch. The newborns do not live long. Once he's fed, one of the Frogmen complains that I visit too early and then starts talking about sport, again. He asks me which professional sport I like to watch. I say soccer. "You and three-quarters of the rest of the world." After this he seems talked out, and I need to be at work, anyway.
FRIDAY EVENING
It's a quiet evening, with my Frogmen wanting to discuss politics and religion. I tell a Frogman that I'm a liberal, which he seems to equate with communist, given that he calls me a friend of the workers and asks me if I think there's going to be a workers' revolution. He also gives me a useful - if cynical - lesson in American politics. I tell him that I think voting's important, but that I'm not registered to vote. This apparent contradiction confuses him and his response is quite rude. I want to scream at him. "I am not registered to vote because I am a foreigner on a temporary visa! Do you see?"
Of course, I could, but I don't think he'd understand. And I might blow up the mic. And make my neighbours might think that they're living near a madman. (That's assuming they haven't already seen my talking to my TV, of course. In which case I pretty much rule out any barbeque invites.)
SATURDAY
The day begins with a bit more religious talk, Frogman asking me if, despite the fact that I don't believe in a god or gods, I consider myself a spiritual person. I tell him no and he takes this to mean that I don't think about religious or spiritual issues at all. "That's not what I meant," I say through gritted teeth. But he doesn't understand. After our conversation I sit and watch for a while. "I'm not letting this DNA go to waste." Oh dear. I guess this is mating time again.
One Frogman hops over to the other. He rests a webbed hand tenderly on the other's shoulder and they lock tentacles. There is only one 'pulse' of the tentacle and then they disengage. Although they look tired, neither one dies. I breathe a sigh of relief. Sex does not always lead to death in Seaman world. Then one Frogman turns to me and tells me that more of his memory has returned. He tells me a story.
Back in ancient Egypt the son of the Pharaoh and the daughter of a priest fell in love. The Pharaoh forbid the union, due to the difference in the lovers' castes. The priest, who looked more kindly on the youngsters, asked the advice of the god Thoth. Thoth decided to change to the two lovers into beasts, that one day in the future they could evolve once more and be reunited when their union would not be forbidden.
It's a touching story in many ways, but I refuse - refuse! - to believe that my Frogmen are royalty. No way.
Now he's recovered his memories the Frogman wants to escape the tank. To do this he wants to jump from the big rock at the back of the tank to the ring that's hanging down into the tank. I always thought that this ring was a thermometer, or something like that. The Frogman climbs to the top of the rock. When he says, "Now," I am to say, "Jump!"
"Now!"
I immediately say "Jump!" into the mic.
The Frogman doesn't move. Then I hear the VMU beep. I pause, confused, until I remember that the VMU beeping is the cue for you to say something. I told the Frogman to jump too soon. So I tell him to jump again and he leaps from the rock... and crashes to the floor. He doesn't seem to want to try again. I play some DoA2 and Soul Calibur, go down the supermarket, that sort of thing.
When I get back to the tank the Frogman tells me he's worked up enough nerve to try again. This time I wait for the beep before shouting. The result, however, is the same. But now he's done it twice, the Frogman seems eager to try again. Once more he perches atop the rock. Once more I give the command at the correct time. And this time, the result is different. This time the Frogman doesn't even jump. As he makes his preparations he slips and tumbles down the side of the rock, landing in an undignified heap on the floor. I laugh - but not into the microphone. I expect he's feeling bad enough as it is.
Later, we try once more. The same drill. I watch the Frogman leap. He grabs the ring. Success! His weight pulls the ring down into the tank. And as the ring falls, the back of the tank rises like a theatre curtain. For the first time I see what was behind the tank. Welcome to the jungle. My Frogmen immediately run towards it, towards freedom. And away from me. Once they are both out one of the Frogmen turns to me and thanks me for all the help I've given him. And he tells me to tap on the glass, sometime, saying it's his parting gift to me. One of the Frogmen hops off, deeper into the forest. The other walks left, until he leaves the area I can see. I watch him disappear off the TV screen and I feel...
...To be honest, I'm not sure how I feel. I'm pleased that Frogmen are free. I'm proud that I made it this far. But I'm sad that they don't seem to need me anymore. There are no controls in the jungle. No heater, no sprinkler. My children have left home. I confirm this by leaving for a while and then returning. Leonard tells me that I am no longer needed, but that I am free to visit. He also gives me a longer version of the origin story that the Frogman told me earlier. I sit and watch the jungle until I start worrying about burn in. I try right tapping on the glass. The Frogmen both come to see what the fuss is and a beat starts up in time to my clicking. It's kind of fun, but I'm not in the mood.
SUNDAY
I check in and receive a major shock. Leonard has gone. There is no, "Welcome to the laboratory of Jean-Paul Gasse." Nothing. Both Frogmen are in the visible part of the jungle. One comes up to me and starts talking to me about my family. Asking me whether I get on with them, that sort of thing. And old school style conversation. Not everything has changed. In the evening I decide that I don't need the moth cage anymore. I take the seeds that are in there and drop them into the jungle, to see if anything will grow. Then I take a couple of larvae and drop them in the item storage area, just in case. Then I realise that if I'm ever going to restart the moth cage from scratch I'm going to need seeds. Okay, maybe there'll be more tomorrow. For something to do, I try the right click trick again.
This time I keep going. The Frogmen start to dance to the beat, which keeps pace with my click speed. I can really make those Frogmen jump by hammering on the trigger. At certain speeds instruments and vocals float into the mix. And after a few seconds of this words appear on the screen. The end credits.
MONDAY
I check back in. Still no Leonard. I must accept the fact that he's gone for good. As I watch a storm starts. It's not much more than a quick shower, but when it's over the seeds I planted yesterday have begun to grow. The one Frogman I can see complains that I'm up too early. In the moth cage, everything is normal, but I have no more seeds yet. In short, nothing much is happening. I've seen Seaman's credits and although I can still visit, I am no longer needed. I have heard cryptic comments about how when you think Seaman's over, you're only half way there. But do I believe this? I'm not sure. It seems to me that I've done my job. There are a few loose ends. The mating on Saturday. Is one of the Frogmen pregnant? In his last speech Leonard said that the Frogmen had escaped to continue to the next stage of their evolution. Are there more mutations to come? But I still can't help but feel that my job is over. And that being the case, there is no need to continue this diary. Seaman has been an experience like no other. Part game, part virtual pet, part tech demo, part lesson in evolution, part love story. If and when something happens, I'll be sure to update you. It's like when a TV series finishes and they make TV movies instead. Inspector Morse springs to mind. I suspect that there will be more happening. But I also suspect that it won't be happening as quickly as it has been. Who knows, I may be wrong and I may be back with an update tomorrow as normal. But I think it's unlikely.
Thanks for reading. Live long and prosper.