A 95°F Los Angeles is much more palatable at 4,500 feet—a 20-minute flight in a sleek new Cirrus Aircraft piston engine four-seater, from the Burbank to Camarillo airports, above a smog-laden urban sprawl that would otherwise take us an hour to drive. Cozy bucket seats, large windows, and large touchscreen control monitors give a modern vibe. It’s a beautiful day to fly—until calamity strikes and the pilot can no longer function. She turns to me, “Okay, when you’re ready . . .”

I half-twist from the front passenger seat and push a large red button in the cabin ceiling in front of the two back seats. Immediately, a recorded female voice calmly announces: “Emergency Autoland activated.” There’s a barely perceptible shift in the plane, which is now stabilized and flying on its own, figuring

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