Between a midnight skyful of stars and the sparkling carpet of Seattle's city lights a small jet-plane winks and twinkles. Within, knee to knee in the rather dowdy and over-intimate confinement of a four-seater at 28,000 feet, sit Sting, his co-manager Kim Turner, and Q. The stewardess, Darcy, glamorous as a Bond girl, smilingly asks after her clients' beverage requirements on this short hop to Vancouver, then struggles to maintain her dignity as she twists, crawls and shuffles aft, bent double, to serve them...