"That," says Susan, kissing his cheek before sinking down into the seat across from his as the balloon drifts along in her orbit, "is a tremendously good question." She takes one of his hands in hers and squeezes his fingertips. "The toy is called a balloon, but it's like none I've seen before. There were," in tones of great resignation, "more of them, but I've managed to stow the rest of them away here and there."