The wind which had nearly turned the Albireo's landing into a disaster instead of a mathematical exercise was still playing tunes about the fins and landing legs as Schlossberg made his way down to Deck Five. The noise didn't bother him particularly, though the endless seismic tremors made him dislike the ladders. But just now he was able to ignore both. He was curious—though not hopeful.
Mercury had no atmosphere—everyone knew that. Why was it developing one now?