Many a paperback action fan reading this will be surprised and muddled when he finds himself not blasting down Red MIGs but kneedeep in multiple aspects of birth control in the Air National Guard of a fictional American state. For the ""exiles to the stars"" are the unborn babies of pilots who have had ""the operation"" (vasectomy) and now have a free-flying love life. Lt. Col. John Turk wangles his way into a base command after his predecessor dies in a crash. Was the former commander murdered by one of several possible officers who might have sabotaged his jet in hopes of replacing him? Turk thinks so (he may be next) and he becomes as detached from the base as possible by hard-drinking, hard-loving, and by developing an acrobatic team that keeps him away at air shows. Finally, in a tremendously weird scene, an acrobatic associate tries to ram his jet into Turk's and, gunless, the jets scamper through canyons like wild mice. The birth control theme is liberally illustrated with stud pilots and their wives who, like Dottie, ""used up guys as fast as Scotch"". As one of them says, America is ""sex sick"". This book will not cure the impression.