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“Meet you at the top!” Kerber hollered—cockily, as always—as he climbed rapidly past us. He gestured toward the cloud ceiling. “We’ll leave a light on!”
Sean and Karen looked at each other as his balloon disappeared around the envelope of our own.
“Everything a competition,” sighed Sean. There was a deafening roar as he toggled the blast valve. “Had to show us he could beat us on the ascent—even at night.”
“Talk about that a little,” I said, continuing to roll. “You mentioned that his balloon was different from yours. How so?” I nodded at Eddy, who moved the boom mic closer. “Just look out at the sky, Sean, not the camera.”
He scratched at his beard and seemed to marshal his thoughts. “Well, he’s running a gas balloon, not a hot-air vulcoon, which is what this is. A gas ballo
