FORGOT ABOUT ONE
A while back, in the "Musings On..." about chance in games, I mentioned that I'd like to see a game where the player represented just one level of command, and everything above and below was largely or entirely out of the player's control. I thought such a game would be kinda neat--not many people agreed with me, though--but that such a game was unlikely to exist.
What I forgot, though, was that such a game does exist. Furthermore, I have it--and, yes, I do like it. It's not for everyone, though, by which I mean that in certain gamers--I'm talking to you, Jorge, and other "serious eurogamers"--it could easily cause nausea, shortness of breath, convulsions, and in rare cases green splotches around the neck and shoulder area. Why?
Friends, this is just one of the four technology development flowcharts one uses in Race for Space. True, it is the most complicated. The Level One display only has eight nodes. Along with the four flowcharts, there are thirteen tables where you roll either a 1D10, 2D10, or 1D100, depending. Then there's the two-sided Record Sheet where, among other things, you track each of your 42 (for NASA) various mission systems (launch vehicles, payloads, guidance systems, etc etc etc etc), each of which has three or four associated costs--never mind that most have prerequisites.
I'm not sure what defines an "American-Style Game," but I think if a game has four flowcharts and a multilayered technology tree, it counts.
I thought about this game reading (and commenting on) Brian Morris's Geek of the Week tenure. He mentioned that he'd like to see a "wargame" (sometimes we prefer "historical simulation;" it's kinda like the "German Game" vs. "Designer Game" debate) on the space race. I suggested this one.
My mom was one of the programmers designing, coding, and operating the flight simulators for the Gemini program, so interest in the space race (particularly the relatively early manned missions) was probably predestined. (She has many stories about the astronauts, which probably won't do to be divulged here. Nothing naughty, rest assured--just how the uniquely-formed egos and personalities of the astronauts meant that they had particular itches that needed to be scratched when it came to designing the capsule's interface and training them in its use.)
In RfS, you play the director level of the national space program of either the US or USSR. At the beginning of every turn, you roll 2D10 to determine a random event--some political, economic, or geopolitical issue that effects you in some way. Then you roll for income--which, yet again, you have a very limited role in shaping. You get more moeny if you have more prestige--which means successful launches and being "first" with this, that, or the other. It leads to (all too realistic, sometimes) thoughts like "I really need to have something big on the rèsumé to impress Congress/the Politburo...this isn't a great rocket, but it'll probably get Shepard/Gagarin up there."
After the "forces above" determine your income, you have to pay the "science teams" (contractors like McDonnell-Douglas, etc) you have working on your projects. Then you get to decide whether to hire more teams, where to allocate them (the more you put on a project, the more likely it is to progress in a good direction on the flowchart), whether to start a new project, and so on.
Once you do that, things go out of your hands for a little while again. Now, the scientists and engineers you've just assigned try to do their part. That's when you roll on the flowchart, to see how the project is going. I'm playing a game right now--a solo game, as the US. It's 1955, and we've got the Redstone rocket all designed-up, we have a half-decent guidance system, but the first satellite--the Vanguard--is in development hell, stuck in an eddy. I've thrown all kinds of resources at it but it's not going anywhere. Do I kill it and start over, or what? It's highly frustrating, and listening to my parents (my dad's a mechanical engineer) talk about the ways engineering projects go, it's quite evocative.
After you've rolled for everything under development, you can take your developed systems out to the test site. Once something's "developed" on the flowchart, it has between a 45 and 60% success rate. In my game, I've been working on perfecting the Redstone (which will, hopefully, toss up a few scientific satellites for me and then a Mercury capsule). It breezed through development, got to 60%, and I've been launching it in subsequent turns on test flights to improve it. To test fly a rocket (or anything else, for that matter), you roll 1D100 and if it's lower than or equal to its reliability, it goes up by 5% until it hits 95%, and 1% thereafter to 99%. Again: What the rocket does is up to the rocket. The head of NASA can't do anything about it one way or another except order tests and hope it works.
Basically, in this game you set goals and priorities, buy and assign resources, and hope for the best. You hope that the higher-ups give you enough money and otherwise leave you alone, and that the lower-downs have good luck and work effectively. Essentially you play a government bureaucrat.
And I love it.
It tells a story I'm interested in, puts me squarely in a plausible spot, and gives me plenty of decisions to make, but also a lot of tension, frustration, and unexpected glimpses of joy when something works better than I expected.
The campaign game--ninety turns or so--would take...a really long time. The graphics are primitive. (It's a desktop-published effort that's long out of print. I think it'd be a good candidate for Wargame Downloads, personally. Not many counters, not many rules.) Player interaction, in the two-player game, is virtually nil. (Although the two players do pressure each other indirectly, as in real life.) Again: Umpteen charts. Rob Markham's printer at the time was...not so great, so many of the counters are hard to read.
I forgive it everything, though, since it tells a story I'm interested in, and tells it pretty well.
That's what I look for when it comes to historical simulations. Dug at Gathering of Engineers wrote about wargames from a perspective I never dreamed of. He--and others, judging by the comments--see wargames as optimization exercises. Now, I come from a pretty math-science background, I've done my share of mathy stuff in my day (I have fond memories of convincing an Apple II to draw the Mandelbrot set--using LOGO; you could zoom in and everything) (although I have to work at keeping my skills, and I'm prone to occasional brain lapses, which is why I never considered majoring in math in college), and I swear looking at games like that never occurred to me. Heck, I never dreamed that anyone looked at them that way until I read that post.
Such gamers would be driven absolutely up the wall by this game, I think. You can do everything "right" and still have it fall down around you, far more often than in other historical simulations. There's just so much uncertainty. For the rest of us, though, this may be a game of some interest. It's not my very favoritest game ever, or anything like that, but playing it again the last couple of days has reminded me that I need to do it a little more often.