A long lost friend ...A mysterious message ...A lie that extends beyond time itself ...Cracking the Conspiracy is a pre-rendered, 3D adventure game that will test you to your wits end. You move through a huge world consisting of almost 3000 meticulously rendered still images, 358 animations, numerous puzzles, and various characters that you can actually converse with.
~ from the back of the CD Jewel case
Every so often, digging through the archives of PC gaming’s late-90s wilderness yields a real gem - something ambitious yet clunky, earnest and oddly charming. Quite frankly, it's what I live for and why this site exists. Cracking the Conspiracy is one of those titles. Released in 1998 and created by the Mennenoh brothers - literally two guys working out of their family home and partially financed by their "mom" - it's a first-person point-and-click adventure steeped in alien paranoia. You can tell this was at the height of the X-Files phenomenon.
The plot wastes no time dropping you into its weird sci-fi yarn. You play as John, an ordinary guy thrust into extraordinary circumstances when a mysterious package arrives from Kelsey, an old flame who disappeared years ago. Inside is a top-secret Air Force communicator containing seven classified files - documents that could blow the lid off one of the greatest government conspiracies in history. To deliver them safely back to Kelsey, you'll need to infiltrate the infamous Area 51, dodge suspicious personnel, and unlock layers of encrypted secrets hidden within the communicator. It's pure 90s conspiracy thriller complete with shadowy cabals, alien mythos and government paranoia.
The plot wastes no time dropping you into its weird sci-fi yarn. You play as John, an ordinary guy thrust into extraordinary circumstances when a mysterious package arrives from Kelsey, an old flame who disappeared years ago. Inside is a top-secret Air Force communicator containing seven classified files - documents that could blow the lid off one of the greatest government conspiracies in history. To deliver them safely back to Kelsey, you'll need to infiltrate the infamous Area 51, dodge suspicious personnel, and unlock layers of encrypted secrets hidden within the communicator. It's pure 90s conspiracy thriller complete with shadowy cabals, alien mythos and government paranoia.
If you've found the map, use it to make your way through the mines (left).
You have 4 pages in your notebook to jot down potentially useful information. Mostly codes and numbers (right).
The control scheme is comfortingly minimalist. You point, you click, you move. Navigation plays out as a slideshow of pre-rendered environments, occasionally spiced with short animations to smooth the transitions. It's hardly immersive by modern standards, but the crisp stills have a clarity and compositional care that harks back to the likes of Myst. Rarely will you delve into pixel hunts, and the only arcade action sequences are not there to be won, but to uncover information after losing. A classic adventure-game get up... mostly.
Where Cracking the Conspiracy stands apart from many of its contemporaries is how it handles its puzzle design. Sure you get a good helping of well worn puzzles; sliding puzzles, a version of Othello, and even a variant of Simon (alarmingly the only thing standing between you and a top secret science lab). But outside of the easy adventure-game staples, most of your puzzling time will be spent doing what the title of the game promises; cracking codes. These are entered using the keyboard, so a slight mistake or slip of a finger could screw it all up. Needless to say, make sure you take lots of notes. Thankfully, the game includes a note-taking mechanic to help you along.
Where Cracking the Conspiracy stands apart from many of its contemporaries is how it handles its puzzle design. Sure you get a good helping of well worn puzzles; sliding puzzles, a version of Othello, and even a variant of Simon (alarmingly the only thing standing between you and a top secret science lab). But outside of the easy adventure-game staples, most of your puzzling time will be spent doing what the title of the game promises; cracking codes. These are entered using the keyboard, so a slight mistake or slip of a finger could screw it all up. Needless to say, make sure you take lots of notes. Thankfully, the game includes a note-taking mechanic to help you along.
The personal communicator contains a bunch of info, even if a lot is securely locked behind a a password (left).
Less secure is the entrance to a science lab. Just play a game of Simon and you're good (right).
The personal communicator, essentially an in-game PDA, acts as both an inventory extension and narrative device. Right-click this sleek little gadget from your inventory to read intercepted emails, uncover classified documents, and piece together the unfolding plot. It's a clever way of embedding lore without forcing you to trawl through endless cutscenes. The password-protected files you unlock give each discovery a sense of progress, like peeling back layers of a particularly juicy plot one code at a time.
To the right edge of the screen is your health. Yes, you have a life bar and yes, you can die. But it's not as annoying as you might believe. Think a reverse of the old Sierra points system and you have a good idea what it does; punishing stupidity as opposed to rewarding intelligence. Get the miner's riddle wrong the slap he'll give you takes of 5 points. Touch a cactus and that prick will take off another 5. A huge chunk will disappear if you happen to be under a falling support bean in the mines. It's in these types of situations where you'll have to pay attention to it, not in the actual puzzles themselves.
Once you begin a game, you can't access the main menu again without leaving it. This makes some of the core functions unintuitive for those not in the know. Basically, everything is a keyboard shortcut. If you want to save, type S. Want to load, type L. I'll let you figure out what Q does. This would leave the screen's real estate free to focus solely on the game, but the layout is pretty sparse. The sill images are relegated to a window on the top half of the screen leaving the bottom half completely black. Should you look on your PDA, this entire section is filled with text and e-mails, but I mainly filled it with either the inventory or notepad.
To the right edge of the screen is your health. Yes, you have a life bar and yes, you can die. But it's not as annoying as you might believe. Think a reverse of the old Sierra points system and you have a good idea what it does; punishing stupidity as opposed to rewarding intelligence. Get the miner's riddle wrong the slap he'll give you takes of 5 points. Touch a cactus and that prick will take off another 5. A huge chunk will disappear if you happen to be under a falling support bean in the mines. It's in these types of situations where you'll have to pay attention to it, not in the actual puzzles themselves.
Once you begin a game, you can't access the main menu again without leaving it. This makes some of the core functions unintuitive for those not in the know. Basically, everything is a keyboard shortcut. If you want to save, type S. Want to load, type L. I'll let you figure out what Q does. This would leave the screen's real estate free to focus solely on the game, but the layout is pretty sparse. The sill images are relegated to a window on the top half of the screen leaving the bottom half completely black. Should you look on your PDA, this entire section is filled with text and e-mails, but I mainly filled it with either the inventory or notepad.
Area 51's rec room has two arcade cabinets of dubious quality.
To the left is a knock-off Donkey Kong, to the right a poor man's Space Invaders.
Of course, the real meat of any adventure game is its puzzles, and here Cracking the Conspiracy is a mixed bag. You'll find the usual suspects: sliders, codes, riddles, and even mazes (two of them, back to back). But they're rarely obtuse for the sake of it. Most are well integrated into the environments, and with a few small exceptions, there's a narrative justification for all the code-breaking and password hunts. Where I mostly got stuck was simply talking to people. You must type out your response, occasionally being more of a test on how the designers would phrase it than knowing the answer. It's rare and not too egregious - and typing rude words never fails to get a chucklesome response - but this isn't as robust of a mechanic found in a dedicated text adventure.
And, just like typing "sex" to the question "What do you want?", the game has a mild sense of humour peeking through in the little details. Your protagonist gives a low, macho grunt every time he picks something up like he's Duke Nukem moonlighting as an amateur ufologist. The Mennenohs also tucked in Easter eggs that wink at the player such as cheeky elevator music or playable arcade machines in a cafeteria that parody existing games. These touches lighten what could otherwise be a very earnest plot, reminding you to not take the game too seriously.
And, just like typing "sex" to the question "What do you want?", the game has a mild sense of humour peeking through in the little details. Your protagonist gives a low, macho grunt every time he picks something up like he's Duke Nukem moonlighting as an amateur ufologist. The Mennenohs also tucked in Easter eggs that wink at the player such as cheeky elevator music or playable arcade machines in a cafeteria that parody existing games. These touches lighten what could otherwise be a very earnest plot, reminding you to not take the game too seriously.
You can die if your health goes to zero, ending the game early (left).
The interactive credits page offers an insight into the Mennenoh's family dynamics (right).
The game's biggest limitation is its sparsely populated world. Area 51 and the surrounding desert feel like ghost towns punctuated by the occasional guard or NPC. That's almost certainly a budgetary constraint, but it also heightens the surreal, eerie mood. You feel isolated, snooping where you shouldn't, armed only with your communicator, your wits and a couple of random numbers scribbled in your notepad. In a way, the emptiness fits the theme.
Cracking the Conspiracy is a time capsule of indie ingenuity. Its interface and inventory are clean and functional, its puzzles mostly fair, and its story engaging enough to pull you along. More importantly, it feels personal - two brothers poured themselves into this game, and you can sense their fingerprints on every screen (check out their notes in the credits screen for some fun sibling rivalry). And they made a treasure of an adventure game. A great find.
Cracking the Conspiracy is a time capsule of indie ingenuity. Its interface and inventory are clean and functional, its puzzles mostly fair, and its story engaging enough to pull you along. More importantly, it feels personal - two brothers poured themselves into this game, and you can sense their fingerprints on every screen (check out their notes in the credits screen for some fun sibling rivalry). And they made a treasure of an adventure game. A great find.

To download the game, follow the link below. This custom installer exclusive to The Collection Chamber uses the DOSBox-X build of DOSBox 0.74 running Windows '95. Read the ChamberNotes.txt for more detailed information. Tested on Windows 10.
IMPORTANT - Remember to shut down the emulated version of Windows before exiting DOSBox. This could potentially result in errors, lost saves and corrupt data. The program will automatically shut down when you exit the game.
File Size: 437 Mb. Install Size: 803 Mb. Need help? Consult the Collection Chamber FAQ
Download
Cracking the Conspiracy is © The Pixel Shop, Inc
Review, Cover Design and Installer created by me
No comments:
Post a Comment