It was mysteriously harmonious,
continuous--like life itself. Chick looked closer, and listened.
And then he knew.
These mists were clouds of tiny, multi-coloured insects.
He looked down farther, into the streets. They were teeming with
life, with motion. He was in a city whose size made it a true
metropolis. All the buildings were large, and, although of
unfamiliar architecture, undeniably of a refined, advanced art.
Without exception, their roofs were domed. Hence the effect of a
sea of bubbles.
Directly below, straight down from his window, was a very broad
street. From it at varying angles ran a number of intersecting
avenues. The height of his window was great--he looked very
closely, and made out two lines of colour lining and outlining the
street surrounding the apartments.
On the one side the line was blue, on the other crimson; they were
guards. And where the various avenues intersected cables must have
been stretched; for these streets were packed and jammed with a
surging multitude, which the guards seemed engaged in holding
back. As far up the avenues as Chick could see, the seething mass
of fellow creatures extended, a gently pulsing vari-coloured
potential commotion.
As he looked one of the packed streets broke into confusion. He
could see the guards wheeling and running into formation; from
behind, other platoons rushed up reinforcements.
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