By the time it stops rising, the balloon has expanded to about 40 million cubic feet, the size of a football stadium. It floats in the top of the sensible atmosphere like an ice cube in a glass of water; it drifts slightly, but to the passengers, it feels virtually stationary. There’s no engine roar, no humming machinery; the capsule is as quiet as a library. A gourmet breakfast is served, perhaps with mimosas from the bar. A few passengers slip on headphones to enjoy their own soundtracks for the sunrise. Even after the sun emerges from behind the blue-rimmed curve of Earth, at 100,000 feet, stars are visible in the black sky.
After a couple of hours of floating, it’s time to come home. The pilot flips a switch and the capsule detaches from the balloon, floating leisurely back to Earth under a parachute.
You can make a reservation today for a trip just like this. And although it won’t happen this year, or even next, soon you can become a member of a very elite group: those who have traveled to the top of the stratosphere.