Some Say In Ice

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Some say the world will end in fire,

Some say in ice.

From what I've tasted of desire

I hold with those who favor fire.

But if it had to perish twice,

I think I know enough of hate

To say that for destruction ice

Is also great

And would suffice.

~Robert Frost

The Dwarf Planet Eris, Pluto's twin, is a desolate but iridescent graveyard that sticks out in ghostly contrast against the blotchy abyss that lay behind it. None survived the re-freezing, when the frozen gaseous atmosphere of Eris returned to it's normal state after the reactor failure. The terraformer couldn’t do it's work anymore, and the entire atmosphere was flash frozen before a single alarm went off.

Eris is now a frozen memorial, a cemetery of silent carnage. The atmosphere and air of Eris, frozen solid, creates a grotesque museum. Citizens of Eris turned to icicles before the expressions on their faces could change, although skin and bone cracked from the extreme cold, leaving people as broken mannequins. The mundane daily life of Eris is know immortalized forever in an icy tomb, perhaps a cautionary tale for those who would so willingly colonize something in such dark isolation.

The Dwarf Planet has a strange and oblong orbit, and during some of it's journey around the Sun, it sits alone in the void, far from star or celestial body. In these deep, dark places, Eris became infected. The very molecules of the planet became tainted by unholy lurking entities of pure chaos and blackness. The citizens of Eris never noticed creeping tendrils of black ice forming around the Zeon Reactor, never noticed it rotting the protective alloy coating of the safety harness. Never gave creedence to the strange dreams, nightmares even, of the seedlings of evil within the icy core of Eris.

Now strange solar winds glide by the dead planet, and occasionally, at the right angle, you can almost see the wind push around the planet, as if to avoid it, respect it. Distant sunlight gives the icy glint a halo effect, as if an angel stands watch over the frozen cemetery. Cracking ice sometimes creates moaning noises, giving the entombed dead a faint voice that swirls with snowflakes and dead ice. Heaps of ice have collected over the millennia, the evidence of the original Eris settlers hidden beneath black depths now.

Off in the distance, the sparkling light of a starship, almost looking like a bright star, heralds the coming of a new race, ignorant and ready to make Eris their own.

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