Sunburst Contamination

Played : 7/19/24
Playtime: 10min, 1hr of setup/source code reading

There are games, in IF a LOT of games, that hearken back to the golden age, dawn of IF. Successful examples can match the tone, humor and idiosyncratic fussiness to make for a warm experience. Thanks to the dynamite efforts of heroic fans across the years, a lot of original games are still available to modern audiences either through emulators or explicit porting and of course the legendary Z-machine legacy.

History has crowned some classics in the field, some games that even in their own time rose above their peers in gameplay, drama or humor, that delighted legions of fans and are rightly revered to this day. What we might forget is that for those games to rise, there was a veritable deluge of games from which they rose. Games that didn’t capture the imagination, whose opaque puzzles didn’t generate the mass-mind engagement, maybe whose limited platforms never got the market purchase to showcase their offerings. Thanks to computer literacy and pioneering efforts of motivated fans, we still have access to some of those today, too.

Sunburst Contamination is one such afterlife-gifted game, from the ranks of the lesser-knowns. Originally a Commodore 64 game, it was ported to ZMachine for its own stab at immortality. For me, it was the wrong kind of nostalgia. Nevermind I needed to install Frotz just to play it (which, honestly, why didn’t I do that sooner?), because modern interpreters like Gargoyle, Lectrote and Parchment can’t run it. Once I did fire it up in Frotz, it just kind of lay there. The game itself didn’t give me any clues what it wanted me to do, though thankfully the IFDB page did. I navigated its limited vocabulary, its largely empty spaces of unimplemented nouns, its wildly uneven implementation horizon, its bugs(?) - in one area I was able to bypass a gatekeeper without solving a puzzle, just using a different directional command. Then I got stuck on a door I couldn’t open, which, in fiction, I CERTAINLY would have known how to. I battered myself against it for enough time to know this was not where I wanted to be spending my time and quit. UNPLAYABLE is a hard word, and certainly back in the day, with expectations of frustrating trial-and-error would not necessarily apply here. Against modern standards, I found it so. Not all wine ages gracefully!

If you consume a lot of nostalgic IF, it is hard not to appreciate modern evolutions. By buffing down the cruelty and subtly expanding from the opacity of early efforts the FEEL of early IF can be evoked without the frustration that peppered so much of it. Interestingly, it has also reduced the need for online communities to trade hints and discoveries just to make progress. Between robust hint systems and walkthroughs, that forced community pressure is all but gone. Yet, here we are anyway!

My first stop after being stuck was to parse some existing reviews for hints. I didn’t get any, but I DID tumble onto a generous review that likened its gameplay to a Scott Adams spoof. What a bold, ephemeral choice! The reviewer claimed, which I have no reason to doubt, that the ‘bad’ gameplay, seemingly buggy implementation and even typos were all spoofing that particular style of IF. If you were deeply conversant in that playstyle, immersed in that zeitgeist back in the day, maybe this would land a lot better. Maybe its Adams-ness would trade on some cultural knowledge that clued its gameplay better, and made its frustrations funnier. Cultural Comedy often has the shortest shelf-life. 40 years on, gameplay norms have evolved significantly and what might in fact be hilariously cutting subversions of well-known tropes, now is just… unworkable. Like, if there was a SIDE-SPLITTING joke written in Aramaic - I totally wouldn’t get it, and may not even recognize it as writing.

My second stop after being stuck was so much more rewarding. I downloaded and started to parse the source code. My initial motivation was to parse the code directly to find the solution to my blocking hatch. I quickly lost myself in the sheer, willful majesty of the Basic code. What a treat that was! Spoiled as we are by modern languages with innovations like named variables and object orientation, even the code itself was a puzzle to understand! The mechanics of its primitive parser, the spaghetti of its gotos and gosubs, where puzzles were organized BY THE VERB USED TO SOLVE THEM. You may not know exactly what I mean here. What I mean is for objects that, say, need you to attach something, across the entire breadth of the game, ALL of it is implemented under if/else trees under the ATTACH verb! Authors were adding puzzle solutions inline, disconnected from all context! I didn’t get quite there in decoding my specific puzzle, but what an astonishing insight into those old author mindsets. How insanely motivated and lateral logic-mired must those authors have been?!? I love, love, love that this was preserved, and that I dove into it. The game itself left me pretty cold, but the IMPLEMENTATION was mesmerizing.