"Won't they miss you? Your parents I mean."

"Yeah. But they stink as parents, so what?"

"Reconciliation?"

"Don't wanna. Dad will tell me to get a real job and stop dreaming about adventure or I'll be a useless slob pirate. Mom will look confused and sad and dad will yell at her and then she'll tell me to listen to my father. So, no, I want out."

"But won't your Mum still be sad?"

"Yeah. It stinks. But it stinks less than staying here."

"His life, Maurice, his life."

Maurice nods. "I guess."

"So! What do I need to, er, buy, to make a ship with? Beyond like, wood and stuff for a place to stand."

"Hydrogen or helium, probably, unless you use lome weird local fuel."

"I can probably get some floatgrass down there. Lots of the local plants make hydrogen. What else?" He rummages around and fetches up a pad of paper and a pencil.

"How do you navigate around here? If you can find anything magnetic I can probably make a compass."

"You don't, mostly. You go by weather and the stars. I can maybe find a lodestone."

"How good are you with constellations then?"

"Shame you weren't wearing one of the suits with a compass."

"Says the kid who was literally wearing air-pants. Also, we'll need fabric for a balloon." 

"I can teach you the constellations. And I can get goldbeater's skin. Gas-proof balloon fabric. Plain old cloth, too."

"And what do you use for steering columns or whatever?"

"Wood and rope, maybe starglass, I guess?"

"I'm guessing those aren't supernovas made solid?"

"Nah, fancy poly-mer-ized glass."

"Well, at least it's something we can get our hands on."

"Yep. Maybe even good enough to be used in a ship."

"So are there like, wanted posters up there for us?"

"Nah, just lots of rumors and guards looking for colorful flying kids with 'dangerous technological artifacts'." He pulls out airquotes for the last three words. "You should be good to sneak around if you're any good at it. Maybe stick close to me in case you misunderstand something, though."