He took a deep breath, as if still smelling it. And somehow I felt like I could smell it, too.
“Our heroes—the older kids—took part. Sometimes they won, but there were all kinds of kids, young and old, trying to escape the notice of our parents, and avoiding the hiding we would get when they found out.” He chuckled. “Recruiters from the military always visited the races. They picked off the young pilots who won and offered them places as fighter pilots. That was our ultimate hope, to be noticed by one of them.”
“Is that how you entered the force?”
He laughed. “No. I was too young. I got in the regular way: I applied. I was always at the races, but not as pilot.”
His eyes roamed the haze, as if he could still hear the whine of engines and the cheers of supporters.
“Are you sad that you
