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from the equanimity of the sky, setting new world records and unsettling rivals.
    The opportunity to join the Fable - 1 balloon team, however, was her first offer of employment in that field. At the interview, Brad Sutcliffe had been able to sense Faraday’s genuine passion for flying. Coupled with her experience, knowledge and grit determination, Sutcliffe was confident he had found the perfect crew member. Piloting a giant manned balloon to the edge of space was just the type of adventure she craved. Additionally, she was a wizard with cameras and technology and had been asked, by Sutcliffe, to be responsible for documenting the experience. The fact that she was the cousin of Simon Matthews, co - founder of the project, didn’t factor in whatsoever. She was keener than most at training sessions, always first in the gym and often last out, and was super fit and athletic. She had run the London Marathon twelve times and had finished second in the Paris version.
    Claris Faraday boasted an impressive resume of ballooning experience with headlining exploits that included tightrope walking between two balloons at fifteen - thousand feet and ballooning right around the world. The ballooning connoisseur attended at least one hot - air balloon festival each year to participate in races and the exhibition of evening balloon glows where she would wave at the earthbound spectators. The Albuquerque International Balloon Fiesta, the largest hot - air balloon festival in the world, was her favourite of them all, mingling with over seven - hundred balloonists representing some twenty - two countries.
    But her most dangerous expedition had seen her streak across the Himalayas with her old friend John Rhodes, barely clearing the peaks before losing altitude and crashing unexpectedly into the mountainside. The balloon was a write - off and Rhodes was killed instantly from head injuries. A climber named Nick Parsons spotted the balloon and the pilots, one lying flat in the snow unmoving, the other walking away from the wreckage. The climber reached the stranded balloonist as quickly as he could. He offered her his Gortex jacket. “Everything’s gonna be alright,” he shouted over the brewing storm. “I’ll get you down to Base Camp.”
    He worried that she’d gone into shock because she was so calm, but soon she was crying because he felt her body shuddering at his side. Faraday was scared, but Parsons was amazed that her face didn’t carry the fearful, defeated look of a mountain victim. Not far from Base Camp, roles reversed and Faraday had to assist Parsons along when he began to slip in and out of consciousness. She shouldered him all the way to Base Camp, a bustling tent city full of pioneering climbers and with little energy he directed her to his tent. A trained medic was staying at Base Camp acclimatising like the rest of the mountaineers, and with his mobile medical kit he examined Parsons and confirmed that fatigue had overcome him, insisting that he rest. Faraday spent the night with Parsons relaxing in the warmth of his tent, eating dal bhat lentils with rice and sleeping away the night.
    The next morning, after breakfast, they waited for a helicopter to transport them off the mountain.
    “Some daring flight you were making,” Parsons commented, his sleeping bag pulled up over his chin. “Do you always fly into mountains or just the most dangerous mountains in the world?”
    Faraday frowned. “Do you always pass out on mountains or just the most dangerous mountains in the world?” she retaliated.
    Parsons sniggered and shrugged. “Fair enough. I guess we’re both as reckless as each other. Anyway, I guess I’m glad you chose yesterday to crash.” He smiled at her and took her hand, rubbed it in his, appreciating how much she was hurting, having lost a dear friend.
    “Well, I guess I’m glad you’re a lightweight, a fairly handsome one at that.”
    Back in the UK, a week after John Rhodes had been cremated, they