A different sort of cosmic horror.
Thought Experiments
- If the Trinity test never happened, would atomic weapons have nevertheless been invented?
- If J. Robert Oppenheimer had been anything other than a physicist, would atomic weapons have nevertheless been invented?
- A more speculative question: would prevention of the Trinity test preclude the inciting incident of Trinity (atomic warfare between the Americans and the Soviets)?
- Would preventing US atomic testing in the Marshall Islands have precluded the inciting incident of Trinity? What about the Russian test in Siberia?
We might all disagree regarding the details, but my guess is that few people would answer “no” with confidence to any of these questions.
So What?
While it is true that there is a story–a historical account–to be told about the invention of atomic weaponry, I resist the idea that the story is sufficient. If we look at stories about Trinity, we find an account–a legend, perhaps–of the Great Men who overcame seemingly insurmountable problems of science, engineering, project management, and politicking to create The Deadliest Thing to Ever Exist.
It’s important to tell these stories, of course, but it’s good to pull the camera back now and then. With a little distance, what can we say was the essential ingredient that led to creation of the atomic bomb? Oppenheimer? That good old fashioned American can-do spirit? I don’t think so. Other countries were working on their own bombs, and Americans seemed undeterrable. I think hubris made the bomb inevitable, as did a certain amount of what American legal systems refer to as “depraved indifference.”
With a little distance, what can we say was the essential ingredient that led to creation of the atomic bomb? Oppenheimer? That good old fashioned American can-do spirit? I don’t think so.
I assert that atomic weaponry was inevitable because of human nature. This is an important distinction for me, that of “humanity” as opposed to “people.” People are the stuff of stories, of narrative, of history. Humanity, on the other hand, participates in history without being history. History reveals truths about humanity. For instance, history might help us conclude that knowledge of atomic power would make development of atomic power inescapable.
If this separation seems trivial, I counter that Trinity is ultimately about cosmic forces and considerations. What is humanity’s place in the universe? In our world? We ought to consider the moral–not ethical, because ethics is generally concerned with decisions and individuals–implications of making and wielding tools of baffling destructiveness. The mysterious commentator who makes wisecracks throughout the game (an older version of the protagonist?) says that the Wabewalker fails to stop the Trinity test because of causation and “quantum steam” and who knows what else, but perhaps the futility of Trinity‘s ending (more in a future post!) is also a misunderstanding between Wabewalkers of all ages: stopping Trinity wouldn’t stop the advance of atomic weapons.
Which is all to say: Trinity is, in a curious and specific way, a tale of cosmic horror. An implacable force wields a fundamental power of the universe, capable of destroying not only humans but plants and non-human animals who have generally been minding their own business.
Don’t Blame Cthulhu
This brings us back to a previous post about the site of the Ivy Mike test, in which the Wabewalker encounters a rather charismatic dolphin. I argued there that the dolphin episode seemed to crystallize a defining tension in Trinity‘s text: that of humanity’s relationship with the rest of creation (as always, I use “creation” in a secular sense that includes a complex naturally occurring processes like evolution). I’ll quote myself:
Trinity is concerned with humanity’s place in creation, and the ways in which technological superiority has granted humans power without wisdom. Humanity’s relationship with the world is unnatural and distorted, and, rather heartbreakingly, the Wabewalker cannot change that.
In fact, the Wabewalker never tries to change humanity’s place in the natural world. That never even comes up. The Wabewalker–and perhaps we players, too–vainly hope to right cultural and moral wrongs by solving technical problems.
Since that specific episode has been examined in detail, we can quickly review the themes as I see them and then proceed. The Ivy Mike test portrayed in Trinity indicates humanity’s willingness to kill an uncountable number of organisms to better understand and “improve” their weaponry. One report has guessed that the majority of Enewetak Atoll, the site of the specific Ivy Mike detonations (many more would follow elsewhere the Marshall Islands), will once again be habitable in 2026. The enduring plague of radiation in the region has not only harmed dolphins but a great many people as well.
The Ivy Mike test portrayed in Trinity indicates humanity’s willingness to kill an uncountable number of organisms to better understand and “improve” their weaponry.
Since we are pushing beyond persons and individual choices it’s important not to get lost in the minutiae of programs or policies. Trinity takes special care to involve the Soviets in its narrative, as well. They initiated the attack on London, after all, and they have their own program of Siberian testing. Maintaining a species-centered or even cosmic perspective, we see that these belligerences are not merely discrete acts with their own stories and rationales. Rather, they indicate the sorts of things that, by virtue of being capable, humanity does.
Let’s have a look at another episode, considering not only its literal, dramatic content but some extrapolations as well.
The Lemming (Libra Door)
The Libra vignette takes in Soviet territory. Russian speech on a loudspeaker confirms this, but we can be more certain if we press our luck:
>sw
Are you sure you want to go that way?
[Please type YES or NO.] >y
A voice in your ear grumbles, "It's your funeral."
You draw closer to the group of buildings.
Control Bunkers
This cluster of military shelters is choked with scientific instruments, tended by men in heavy overcoats.
One of the guards patrolling the area greets your unexpected arrival by shooting you in the back. As your blood seeps into the permafrost, you note with interest the hammer-and-sickle insignia on the uniform of your grim assailant.
The Wabewalker has almost certainly travelled to the site of the first Soviet detonation of an atomic bomb (note: this is all a bit confusing, as I initially guessed that this took place at the test of “Tsar Bomba,” the most powerful atomic weapon ever used). This creates a parallel with the previously discussed Ivy Mike test, America’s first post-war test. Once again, if the player waits long enough, they’ll be caught at ground zero for an atomic blast:
>z
Time passes.
"Pyat, chetirye, tree, dva, adeen," barks the loudspeaker.
For an instant, you see your own shadow cast in stark silhouette across the ground.
As I’ve already said, I believe that this parallelism implies that the cosmic horror of atomic weaponry transcends individual and even governmental action. Yes, there remains ethical culpability for individual actors, but the grand scope and utility of the science as it is applied indicates something higher and vaster and, it must be said, harder to change.
What’s happening here, at this grim debut? A future post will discuss the experience of playing Trinity, so let’s focus on things on a purely textual level. The ground is covered with lemmings. There are lemmings everywhere!
Cliff Edge
The river bed ends here, on a cliff overlooking an Arctic sea. But where ancient waters once fell, there now pours a living stream of rodents. Driven by mindless instinct, too stupid or frightened to turn away, they plunge by the hundreds into the crashing waves below. You recognize the species now. Lemmings.
The lemming-as-metaphor is a little familiar, isn’t it? And on the nose, too! But it must be asked: whose nose, exactly? My own cold read is an implication that humanity is like a crowd of lemmings running toward and over a precipice. I don’t think it works very well. To me, it speaks to an ethical failure: human beings, individually, fail to think or act as individuals. The lemmings rush past as an uncountable number of separate lapses in existential courage.
Even though that can be true, it doesn’t really speak to what I see in the events of Trinity. The ending of Trinity suggests something quite different, namely that the individual can do very little in the face of such cosmic forces. The Wabewalker can futz around with knives and knobs as well as the next adventurer, but they can’t change humanity. Or the past.
Yes, there remains ethical culpability for individual actors, but the grand scope and utility of the science as it is applied indicates something higher and vaster and, it must be said, harder to change.
The other problem with the Lemming metaphor is that it doesn’t indicate what I have already called humanity’s “depraved indifference.” A more apt metaphor would be a vast array of other animals watching lemmings jump from a cliff with detached boredom. To that point: the Wabewalker is here to catch a lemming. What good is a lemming, anyway? As it turns out, you can feed a frightened lemming to a rattlesnake. Skipping ahead to the endgame:
The lemming sees the rattlesnake and begins to tremble.
...
The lemming covers its face with its paws and trembles.
...
The lemming cowers in the cage, trembling violently.
...
The lemming scrambles through the open closet door, straight into the fangs of the rattlesnake.
The lemming twitches for a while as the venom takes effect. Then the snake drags its prize across the floor, shakes its tail once for effect and slithers out of sight.
[Your score just went up by 3 points. The total is now 71 out of 100.]
Moriarty, a careful and thoughtful writer, almost certainly emphasizes the lemming’s fear for effect. If we consider the lemmings as an indicator of humanity’s place in creation, perhaps we can elaborate on themes of indifference and hubris. It’s worth noting that the lemmings, metaphorical or otherwise, inevitably die even if they have the individuated courage to resist the call of the cliff. The test will kill them all, and any other nearby living things besides.
Just as important, though, is an emerging idea of the natural, or non-human, in terms of utility alone. What good is a rodent in this world? The answer is pure adventure game logic: it is only good for solving problems. Trinity yields up a complicated experience of this phenomenon by insisting upon the animal’s fear. It can be argued, and I’m fairly certain that it has been, that the lemming and the skink (more to come!) push us to feel the weight of our choices. And yes, there is a feeling that the Wabewalker must be a little stonehearted to save the world from atomic destruction. We players must perform this brutal calculus!
For reasons that will be discussed in a future post, that math doesn’t really work. I get that reading, but I think we are invited to question an assumption frequently made regarding adventure games, namely that using and killing are natural answers to the world’s questions. Remember that we are reminded of the nature of Trinity‘s story as an adventure game by the map and book in the cabin. Their placement is humorous, to be sure, and they might or might not say something about freedom or destiny or history. At a very basic and fundamental level, though, they are elements of adventure games that are represented in every single “gray box” instruction manual, including Trinity‘s. The game does not want us to forget that it is a game; it insists upon its own game-ness.
The Wabewalker is a generic Infocom protagonist. I don’t mean an AFGNCAAP. I categorically reject that term because I know that silence has implications that I really ought to consider as a serious (I hope) critic. Seriously! No, I’m talking about what the character actually does. They (“guvnor” strongly indicates “he” in a 1986 game) are not so different from the Zork trilogy’s Adventurer. The player has them take everything and look at everything. Zork I‘s goal is to get all the things and do all the stuff and go all the places until a win-state is reached, and, prose and themes notwithstanding, Trinity is the same way. Depending on the order in which areas are explored, players may not know why they need a lemming in a narrative sense, but they will know that they need one because that’s just how adventure games are. They will get it because they can. I think there’s an interesting critique there that can be developed further.
Just as important, though, is an emerging idea of the natural, or non-human, in terms of utility alone. What good is a rodent in this world? The answer is pure adventure game logic: it is only good for solving problems.
Summing things up: the Wabewalker as individual makes utilitarian decisions based on hoped-for outcomes. The Wabewalker as everyman or stand-in for humanity is not a fearful or mindless follower (as in the lemmings). Rather, they are indifferent to the escalating belligerence between the United States and Soviet Russia. A reminder:
Sharp words between the superpowers. Tanks in East Berlin. And now, reports the BBC, rumors of a satellite blackout. It's enough to spoil your continental breakfast.
But the world will have to wait. This is the last day of your $599 London Getaway Package, and you're determined to soak up as much of that authentic English ambience as you can. So you've left the tour bus behind, ditched the camera and escaped to Hyde Park for a contemplative stroll through the Kensington Gardens.
What does it mean for humanity to behave as if it is the protagonist of an adventure game? Is humanity the lemming, or the snake? Finally, a thought or two regarding depraved indifference, which I have come to fear in our own time. As an American, I struggle to reckon with our policies, our electorate, our attitudes toward the many environmental treasures of this land. Sadly, there is plenty of malice to go around, and greed, too. There are bad actors, of course there are, but is the stupidity or fear of the lemmings responsible for the rest?
No. While we often mistake thoughtlessness for stupidity, they aren’t the same. Step back far enough, and it is hard to miss the influence of a rather depraved sort of indifference.
Ultimately, I don’t think Trinity demands acceptance of any particular philosophy. I do, however, believe that it holds a failure to think or care in contempt. That is the challenge it places before us.
Next
This analysis proved more fruitful than I originally planned. That’s fine, as I’d like to follow things wherever they go. After so much time, I’m committed to seeing this through. The next post will consider the brief and violent life of the skink, though a novel setting–outer space–will ensure that I do more than repeat the contents of this post.
I’ve joined bluesky, and I’m always looking for games and media analysis people to follow.