Results of something rolled across his spiral notebook, and Rock read them as he lay in bed. They were confusing, but his first notion was that they represented some sort of bizarre report concerning test flights taken by prospective two-year-old airline pilots.
He realized after a moment that there was no denying what he read, and it was clear that all of the pilots had received superior marks, but he couldn't help but wonder what airline would hire near-infants to fly its planes. He imagined the sight of two-year-old children dressed in captain's uniforms and the reaction of passengers as they watched them walk aboard. This couldn't be right.
Short notes by each test flight indicated the pilots' readiness. One read, "Can't fail." Another: "Appeared eager to race."
Of course. That must be it. Rock's confusion began to clear, or at least he hoped. Surely he was reading reports on two-year-old thoroughbreds, not pilots. That must be it.
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