Dispute on the Identity of Pluto
The Grand Dome of Charonpolis shimmered with a faint yellow glow from the bioluminescent algae lining the perimeter. The eternal twilight of Pluto's distant sun painted the nitrogen glaciers in hues of lavender.
Inside, the election celebrations were filling the dome with an air of excitement. Holographic projections of Clyde appeared on each of the city's wide avenues as she delivered her victory speech from the steps of the city's capitol building, allowing her voice to be heard through the city's hydroponic gardens and the geothermal vents.
"Plutonians, for generations we've been dismissed as a dwarf planet on the edge of civilization. But we are far more than a mere icy outpost! We are a testament to human adaptability, developing a civilization from nothing in the harshest environment humanity has ever encountered. We have mastered closed-loop systems, harnessed geothermal energy, and cultivated bioluminescent ecosystems to not just survive, but thrive!"
The crowd roared in approval. Clyde had managed to build a strong coalition of residents across classes with her campaign. She understood their unique challenges: their reliance on genetically modified crops for sustenance and the intricate networks of tunnels and domes that provided city residents with necessary services. Everyone was united in their pride of self-sufficiency and the unique culture that had blossomed.
"We will not be ignored!" she continued with passion. "We will take our place in the solar system's Planetary Senate. We demand a voice as equals. We demand recognition for Pluto, not just as a mere celestial body, but as the home planet of a vibrant public."
Her words resonated with the crowd. Perhaps now, after decades of neglect, their voices would be heard this time.
The icy expanse of Europa shimmered under the soft glow of Jupiter. In the heart of the Planetary Senate, Clyde, the plucky Plutonian representative, felt like a tiny speck of dust adrift in a cosmic ocean.
The Senate chamber was a marvel of Jovian engineering. The moon's icy crust revealed a vast, cavernous space. Representatives from all across the solar system gathered here, their faces a mosaic of colors and advanced prosthetics. Earthlings were by the far largest group, but Martians, Jovians, and others were present. Each had their own agenda and prejudices.
Clyde, with her simple, almost archaic attire, stood out among her colleagues, who wore sleek, high-tech fashion. Her proposal to recognize Pluto as a planet was met with snickers and outright derision.
"A planet?" scoffed Sara Gathaepra, a representative from Mars. "More like a cosmic pebble, not even worth noticing. You can't just say Pluto identifies as a planet. What a joke."
The other representatives agreed and their laughter echoed through the chamber. Clyde remained undeterred. She had grown up facing the harsh realities of life on Pluto. She knew the cosmos would be indifferent too. She had no choice but to persevere.
"We may be small," her voice cut through the noise. "But we are resilient. We have built a civilization on a world that the experts called uninhabitable. We have harnessed what little power we have. We've adapted to its extreme conditions and forged a unique culture. We deserve recognition and a seat at this table."
But her words fell on deaf ears. The senators were accustomed to the grand scheme of galactic politics. She was just a rambling provincial. She knew she had to find a way to convince them they were not just a rock, but a home to a resourceful people.
Late that night the air in a dimly lit capitol bar crackled with tension. Clyde found herself embroiled in a heated debate with a renowned astronomer from Earth. The argument had started innocently enough, with Clyde casually telling the bartender about Pluto's planetary status.
"Pluto, a planet?" the astronomer scoffed, his disdain evident. "Please, it's barely even a dwarf planet. It's a cosmic hiccup. It doesn't even have enough mass to clear its own orbit."
Clyde gave him a glare and shot back a retort laced in defiance.
"But it has its own atmosphere, its own moon, and it's even geologically active. It's more than just a rock. It's a world, a home to four million people!"
The astronomer chuckled.
"People? What kind of people would willingly live in such a desolate place? Pluto is a frozen wasteland. It's not even worth the effort to visit, let alone claim as a planet."
Clyde's anger flared.
"You don't know anything about Pluto! You've never been there! We've built a thriving civilization there, on our planet, despite the harsh conditions. We have built our own culture, our own traditions, and our own history. And we will no longer be ignored!"
The astronomer just sneered at her.
"You're nothing but a few backwater colonists clinging to a lost cause. Pluto is not a planet. And it never will be."
"You're wrong!" Clyde trembled with rage. "We are not colonists! We are pioneers. We have made Pluto our home, and we will defend it with everything we have."
The argument escalated. Other patrons turned to watch. Some were appalled by the growing escalation while most were amused. Clyde, however, refused to back down. She had fought for Pluto her entire life, and refused to be swayed by arrogance.
The astronomer, not able to change her mind, paid his bill and stepped into the crowd. Clyde continued seething and moved to the end seat of the bar, no longer interested in talking to the other patrons.
"Rough night?" asked a bartender, a grizzled old man with a sense of empathy.
Clyde nodded, still feeling angry.
"Can you believe that guy? Pluto is a planet. I know it is! But he just... dismissed it."
The bartender gave her a kind smile.
"I've heard that argument a thousand times before. People cling to old ideas, afraid of change."
He paused, his gaze turning serious.
"But you know, I've spent a lifetime traveling the stars. I've seen worlds born and worlds die. And I can tell you that Pluto, with its icy heart and distant orbit, is a world in its own right."
Clyde looked up, her eyes lighting up.
"You really think so?" she asked.
"Of course," the bartender replied. "It may take time, but the truth will always prevail. Keep fighting the good fight, young one. The future belongs to those who dare to dream."
Clyde sipped her drink and kept her defiant sense of hope. The road ahead would be long and arduous, and she already knew that. But it was comforting to know that she wasn't alone. There were others who believed in Pluto too, those who saw its beauty and its potential.
"To Pluto," she said, raising her glass. "The ninth planet."
The bartender clinked a shot glass against hers.
"Yes, to Pluto."