Welcome to the Project Seaman Daily Diaries. This is the first in a series of diary entries detailing the uniquely bizarre process of hatching and rearing the eponymous little creatures in Vivarium's new virtual-pet breeder, Project Seaman.
After receiving the FedEx package containing the Seaman Deluxe Starter Kit (Seaman game, limited edition clear Seaman VMU, and Seaman microphone that attaches to the second VMU slot on the Dreamcast controller), yours truly quickly inserted the Seaman game into the awaiting Dreamcast and fired it up. After a short display of the now famous "Don't Panic! Seaman!" road sign, replete with Japanese voiceover, the game switches to a display of a barren fish tank. A brief exploratory controller session follows, and these functions were discovered: The analog pad moves you around the screen, while the digital pad operates various functions like light settings, water temperature, and oxygen content. The Y-button zooms in on specific objects while the X-button grabs. Holding the Y and B buttons while moving the analog pad will let you zoom in and out of the screen. The left trigger button moves you to the egg/food screen, where your one Seaman egg awaits hatching. The right trigger button works in tandem with the grab button, executing the grab.
The next step in hatching the Seaman was to grab the egg and drop it in the water. Clicking on the egg screen, grabbing the egg, clicking the egg-screen button again to go back to the fish tank and releasing the grab button dropped the egg in the water. Nothing happened. After searching the instruction manual (all in traditional right-to-left, up-and-down kanji, all Japanese, no English) for any numbers to give me a clue, it was finally discerned that a water temperature of 15 - 20 degrees (Celsius), an oxygen content of 80-plus, and any light setting (we set the lighting to "on-overhead") would hatch the egg for us.
After a brief period of mitosis, the egg then split into eight "mushroomers." The mushroomers looked like floating eyes with translucent tails. The next step was to transform these guys into actual Seamen. Keeping in mind that this strange process was taking place in the EGM offices, also understand that despite having multiple copies of Soul Calibur on hand, every editor in the joint was huddled around my cubicle, waiting for something to happen.
What followed was a day of virtual inactivity. I tried changing water temperatures, oxygen settings, lighting, everything. Finally, after a few hours, I discovered that tapping the window with the hand icon would lure the mushroomers to the place where I tapped. Another thing you should know is the presence of a few other items in the tank. In the tank were one heater, two small rocks, one big rock, and a shell. The two small rocks could be moved slightly, while the big rock could only be rocked back and forth. There is also a thermometer in the right corner of the tank and a microphone coil dipping into the water for the eventual conversations I'd be having.
At one point, as I tapped the glass to move these guys around, two Seamen wandered too close to the shell. Much to our surprise, some tentacles reached out from the shell and snapped up one of the mushroomers. Horrified that we had lost two mushroomers, we kept the other six away for the rest of the day. After I came back to work the next day, I tried again to make the mushroomers transform with no luck. Being a man with only so much patience, I eventually decided to feed all the mushroomers to the mollusk, and was planning to start over after it had eaten them all. So I fed them to it, and that's when things started happening.
"Yo, something's happening!" I screamed out as every editor within a 100-foot radius flocked to my cubicle. As everyone gathered 'round, the mollusk/squid-like thing began to expel black ink from its mouth. It started to propel itself around the tank, shooting black clouds of ink as it went. Fascinated, we looked on. After a few minutes of this the mollusk settled down onto the tank bed, still pumping out black ink. Soon, it began to pump out blood as well. As we watched in disturbed fascination, the mollusk jettisoned its shell, exposing its wretched-looking body while still pumping out blood/ink. Then an epiphany occurred. As the EGM/OPM/Expert Gamer crew stared on in utter shock, eight tiny Seamen blasted triumphantly out of the now dead mollusk's body. They had eaten it alive from the inside, Alien-style, and transformed into young Baby Gillmen. The office erupted into a cacophony of cheers, high-fives, and hugs. We were so happy, not only for the spunky little Seamen, whom I had fed to the mollusk just minutes earlier, but for ourselves as well, since one mystery had at last been solved. The office atmosphere was as if I had just scored the winning goal in the World Cup. These little Seamen, who have transparent baby fish bodies, and Asian-looking cherubic human faces, were bizarrely adorable. They would say over and over again, "I suru kageki!" I had no idea what the translation was. I called a few Japanese-speaking people, who also had no idea what the Seamen were saying. The closest translation I could arrive at was either "I am transparent!" or "I am radical!" both of which basically apply here. Further stimulation was unsuccessful, since my Japanese speaking ability is limited to single word attempts. A few times though I was able to get one to look at me and say "Hu-man." Another time, whatever Seaman I was talking to would shake its head as if it didn't agree or understand. Various icons such as "?" or "???" or "!" would appear on the VMU. Apparently, you can talk when the "?" appears. You can also do three things to the Seamen: 1) tickle it, causing it to laugh disturbingly, like a young child; 2) smack its face with a flick of your "finger"; or 3) lift it out of the water and dangle it above the tank, at which point it would probably either laugh in hysterics or screech at being removed from its natural habitat.
Keep in mind that this is a real game. It is as weird as anything you'll ever play, but you know what? It's so unbelievably cool that I'd trade Monster Rancher or Pokemon for it any day. The voice-recognition thing is cool, and the Seamen themselves are funky fresh. Word on the inside has it that Sega of America is evaluating whether or not to bring it to the States. I, for one, say, "Yes." There is nothing like it on the market, and this would be a great way to differentiate the Dreamcast as a risk-taking innovative gaming machine. Besides, how do you "evaluate" something that is unlike anything you've ever seen? The graphics are simple enough, but lusher, more elaborate tank arrangements can be made (plants, flora, etc.) once I figure out how to do it. In any case, keep watching for updates on these virtual sea monkeys. The birthing process for these Seamen is already on my Top 10 Video-Gaming Moments of All Time. With any luck, it will soon be one of yours as well. Stay tuned for the next update!