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time and duties allowed. She learned a lot about the ecosystem inside the balloon, and how it was in danger of getting out of balance because there was no-one with the time and expertise to manage it. She also learned a little about the Galloon itself, and what the Captain intended to do with it once his quest to find his lost bride was complete.
    â€˜There’s people in this world who need a bit of fun, Cloudier, not to mention a square meal and a comfy bed. I’ve got plenty of each of those here, through no fault of me own. I feel perhaps I can help.’
    After what felt like an age, the Captain pointed ahead. They were out of the forest of beams and spurs, and ahead of them Cloudier saw another great bundle of poles, like the mainmast, coming up through the floor of the balloon.
    â€˜What’s that?’ she asked. ‘Are we back where we started?’
    â€˜Ha! No,’ said the Captain. ‘We’ve come halfway round the inside of the balloon. This is where the mast meets the top of the balloon. I don’t often get a chance to show off something new about the old Galloon nowadays, so I hope you don’t mind the detour.’
    â€˜Not at all – but how can this be …?’ asked Cloudier.
    They were now standing by the mast, and Cloudier’s mind whirled as she looked up. The mast was straight and true, and receded into the misty distance as she stood staring up at it. A long way up, it was obscured by Liken and the balloon’s supporting struts. She simply couldn’t get her head round the idea that she was somehow on the top inner surface of the balloon, standing upside down.
    â€˜It’s the gas,’ said the Captain. ‘We need it for a balloon this size to be able to support the Galloon, but it has some odd effects on perception, gravity, time and so on. And the sticky canvas of course – if you were to jump now, you would come back to rest where you are. But once you get outside, you’ll see the truth of what I say.’
    The Captain reached down to where the canvas met the mast, another rubber seal making the join tight. He heaved on it, and Cloudier felt a rush of cool air on her legs.
    â€˜So – get ready for your mind to whirl a little,’ said the Captain. ‘And, Cloudier – thank you. I rarely get a chance to talk to such a good listener.’
    â€˜But … I feel we’ve wasted time … the Sumbaroon …’ mumbled Cloudier.
    The Captain put a hand on her shoulder, and looked her in the eye.
    â€˜We have to get up top to look out for the Sumbaroon, and this is the only way to do it, with the weather balloon out of operation and all the flying machines needed elsewhere. And if we cannot talk as friends while we walk, then what is the world coming to, eh?’
    Cloudier felt a little lump of pride and sadness in her throat, as she often did when with the Captain. But immediately he was down on his knees, heaving once more at the point where the balloon hugged the mast.
    â€˜Go through, Cloudier, and watch your step. Everything’s a bit knees over noses out there.’
    Cloudier bent down and squeezed through the gap, as when they had entered the balloon an hour – or two – or three – ago. Outside the air, almost as still as the inside, was bitingly cold. She pushed a leg through the tight gap, and found a rung.
    â€˜Hold on tight!’ said the Captain. Cloudier’s last image from inside the balloon was of him smiling and holding back the canvas for her. Then the world flipped around, and she had to hang on for all she was worth to keep from falling up into the clouds and out into space forever. No – down. She would have fallen down. But she could tell from the weight on her arms as she clung to the little metal rungs, that down was now, somehow, above her head. The canvas closed around the mast, and Cloudier clung crazily to the tiny little handholds, now on the section of