They began with tea and some preliminary courses on the foredeck of the 
yacht, as it made its way down the Huang Pu, with the old European buildings of 
the Bund on the left, lit up eerily by the wash of colored light radiating from 
the developments of Pudong, which rose precipitously from the bank on the 
right. At one point, Dr. X had to excuse himself belowdecks for a few 
moments. Judge Fang strolled to the very bow of the yacht, nestled himself into 
the acute angle formed by the converging rails, let the wind tug at his beard, 
and enjoyed the view. The tallest buildings in Pudong were held up by huge 
aerostats—vacuum-filled ellipsoids hundreds of stories above street 
level, much wider than the buildings they supported, and usually covered with 
lights. Some of these extended out over the river itself. Judge Fang rested his 
elbows carefully on the rail to maintain his balance,
then tilted his head back so that he was staring straight up at the underside 
of one such, pulsing with oversaturated colored light. The trompe l'oeil was 
enough to make him dizzy, and so he quickly looked down. Something thumped 
against the hull of the yacht, and he looked into the water to see a human 
corpse wrapped up in a white sheet, blundering along a foot or two beneath the 
surface, dimly luminescent in the light from the building overhead.