A s Judge Fang proceeded across the Causeway on his chevaline, 
accompanied by his assistants, Chang and Miss Pao, he saw the Leased 
Territories wreathed in a mephitic fog. The emerald highlands of 
Atlantis/Shanghai floated above the squalor. A host of mirrored aerostats 
surrounded that lofty territory, protecting it from the larger and more obvious 
sorts of intruders; from here, miles away, the individual pods were of course 
not visible, but they could be seen in the aggregate as a subtle gleam in the 
air, a vast bubble, perfectly transparent, enveloping the sacrosanct territory 
of the Anglo-Americans, stretching this way and that in the shifting winds but 
never tearing.