Flights Of Fancy

With a rustling whomp, the red, purple, and green parachute--attached to the ParaPlane by a web of thin suspension lines--is driven backward by the force of the propellers. Slowly, the now rigid canopy, its leading edge a honeycomb of pockets designed to trap air, rises like a Technicolor jellyfish. Soon, it looms above the pilot's shiny white helmet, casting a long shadow against the grass on this bright, clear summer morning.

As instructor Rich Castle gives the thumbs up, the pilot shoves the throttle all the way back, and the engines respond with a highpitched, whining vibrato. Slowly at first, then picking up speed, the ParaPlane rolls across the uneven turf, its tricycle gear bouncing across a few ruts. Then it leaps into the cornflower sky above New Jersey's Burlington County Airport.

Moore's eyes are riveted on the ParaPlane as it makes light of the law of gravity, clearing a stand of trees and banking off to the left over the concrete runway used by more conventional flying machines. For one thing, the pilot is Moore's brother, Brian, and this flight is Moore's birthday present to him. But he also is paying strict attention to the craft's every bob and weave for completely selfish reasons: The next time the ParaPlane takes to the air, he'll...