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Beer Run.

The top of the main trapezoidal tower opens slowly. The crowd stands in hushed expectancy.

Strange sounds emanate as a frothy substance begins to extrude and expand. At first looking like a pastry chef’s hat, the shapeless form continues to expand. Large panel doors four stories high open on the trapezoidal structure to reveal tremendous engines on gimbaled struts. The engines extend outward and deploy.

Overhead, the plastic bubble continues to expand, like a parachute operating in reverse. It reaches up, higher and higher, expanding as it goes. Veins of thread and rope-like material begin to show in the surface texture, apparently lending strength to the material. The expanding balloon seems to be like a dragonfly wing, growing and inflating from a crumpled nothingness to an iridescent beauty in the sunlight.

The engines fire with a muted roar, their exhaust dark and smoky at first, but soon clearing until only the dancing images show the heat of them. A funnel-shape catches and redirects the hot gases back into the structure. Now the balloon begins to inflate steadily, rising into the cool air, as a large yoke assembly scissors away from the trapezoidal shape. The tower tilts over, toppling slowly toward the lake like a felled tree, ending not with a splash, but a gentle slowing.

The empty shell of the tower maintains the integrity of the steel basket which holds the peripatetic castle and floating island. The crowd excitedly surges forward, carrying baskets, coolers, cameras and suitcases. They enter the cavernous ramp doors at the base of the structure and make their way up the metal stairs along the side-walls. Many note the strange Escherian quality of the stairs, which moments before, could have been used at right angles to their current orientation to climb to the top of the tower.

The people take up seats in the now top of the structure, which has taken on the look of a flying shoebox. Row after row of window seats fill as the passengers make themselves comfortable. One late arriving passenger, arms full of maps and charts, comes running up and enters the craft.

The assistant loadmaster makes his final checks, and gives a visual signal to the pilot, also speaking into a walkie-talkie. He then steps onto the ramp door and walks up it as it begins lifting upward to close.

The jets throttle up in pitch as they slowly rotate downward, rippling the surface of the Loch with their exhaust. The balloon inflates again, like a swimmer preparing for a dive. As the huge warehouse sized structure rises ponderously in the air, the signal is given, and mooring ropes are cast off and hauled aboard.

The jet engines are canted slightly outward to sea, and the craft drifts outward and upward. A thousand yards away, it turns gracefully, circling the floating castle island, and then begins moving off purposefully.

The beer run has begun.