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For now, true VR entertainment will be a boutique operation; it can't move the bodies per hour that a Star Tours can. But there's still fun for all: consumers and producers. "The great thing about VR is that we get to make up the rules," says Tony Asch, president of StrayLight Corp., designer of the thrill rides Cozmik Debris and Bonk. Companies that had specialized in VR for the military are savoring their new gamesmanship. "For years we've been in the business of re-creating real worlds," says Jeff Edwards, marketing manager for Evans & Sutherland, which developed a Virtual Adventures ride with Iwerks. "Now we're in the business of creating fantasy worlds, and our creators are having a ball."
A wrecking ball, to judge from the competitive carnage unleashed at the Walnut Creek Virtual World. Exiting the Explorer's Lounge, our Virty Half- Dozen are ushered into a briefing station where they watch a slick six- minute instructional film. It stars Joan Severance as a macho pilot ridding the solar system of some intergalactic scum. Just as take-charge is the mission's real-life guide, code name Tiger, a young woman in a lab smock who looks like Winona Ryder and talks like Chuck Yeager. In rapid-fire cadences, Tiger spits out a fat manual of directives for piloting the vehicle behind the next door. Any astronaut or shop major would swill down this info in a trice, but Cyber Rick, the neophyte, is lost in space. So he tries reasoning with his adversaries, battle-hardened BattleTech veterans all. "I come in peace," he says portentously. The gunsels snicker.
In the Containment Bay the pilots crouch in their cockpits and play with their joysticks, throttles, laser-gun buttons and myriad other guy stuff. Then the mayhem commences. Dramatically, the scene is rich -- pilots directing their robots to roam the area and shoot everyone who moves -- but for Cyber + Rick it isn't pretty. He must have left his lightning instincts, his sociopathic aggressiveness, his testosterone, at home. Everywhere he tilts his scanner, the robots are after him. And they're firing like crazy. Go to it, brain! Attack wildly. Retreat cravenly. Mayday! Mayday!
Afterward, an elaborate printout of the combat reveals how merciless video virtuality can be. Read it and weep: "Spydre severely ravages Cyber Rick's left torso . . . Cyber Rick's right torso is vaporized by Rayvin . . . Demon Dave severely damages Cyber Rick's right hip section . . . Steve vaporizes Cyber Rick's searchlight!. . . Cyber Rick ejects as JT reduces Cyber Rick's Loki VI to rubble!" Spydre finishes the combat in first place, tallying 2,570. Cyber Rick pulls a -1,492. Good year, rotten score.
Back in the lounge, the group gets to replay the whole edifying experience on video monitors. There's lots of male bonding and, for Cyber Rick, male gagging. One of the gunslingers helpfully suggests that the loser cram for the next mission with the aid of a flight manual, available in the lobby. "Thanks for the advice," Cyber Rick responds as he slinks away, "and you're real good at killing. Now let's see you write a movie review." A last gasp from the Gutenberg era as it cedes power to a generation of virtual virtuosos.