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Prologue
Was it the vacuum of space that enclosed him, or regret? The void stretching before Pluto had nothing on the abyss in his ice-encrusted heart. Day after day, year after year, and century after century, Pluto spun on his axis in resigned monotony, his orbit an eternal marathon to nowhere. As he drifted, Pluto’s thoughts stretched out into the gaping emptiness, grieving what could’ve been. It had been years since he had last spoken to Uranus. The finality of his fate remained absolute. Whenever sleep abandoned him to consciousness, Pluto wept, his tears freezing into branching streams across his surface. He wondered if he would ever be more than a misshapen rock glazed with his own laments.
“Can you hear me, Charon?” His whisper was sharp in the quiet gloom.
“Always, Pluto.”
“Why did I…Why did they do it?” Pluto could sense Charon's aged sigh before the wispy breath grazed him. He knew Charon was tired of this question, but couldn’t help himself.
“We cannot know why. But really, Pluto, as I watch you spin in misery derived from the flighty declarations of an irrelevant people, I must implore you again to let it be.” Charon’s surface seems to ripple with unspoken words. “Before this nonsense, you were content just counting the stars, and happy to float through space with me by your side. Forget this frivolous tripe, and let yourself feel the peace that you once cherished.”
Pluto knew Charon was right. Still, he was glad that he had rotated away, so that Charon would not see the fresh tears tracing along his bumpy complexion. Had Pluto been closer to the sun, his craters might have been oceans, instead of hardened glaciers dusted with frost. As the dim yellow of the distant sun invaded his peripherals yet again, he couldn’t help but turn his thoughts to the events that had utterly ruined him.
~~~
“Are you in range, Venus? I have BIG news.”
With a giddiness she hadn’t felt since humans invented the telescope, Earth quickly typed out a message on her pinger, a space communication device powered by the asteroid belt. It had been over a year since Earth and Venus had aligned, and she was dying to tell her neighbor.
With impatience brewing, Earth felt one of her volcanoes begin to heat. It was all she could do not to burst with excitement, and Venus was so slow. Doesn’t she know it’s important? What part of BIG in all caps did she not understand?
Suddenly, Earth heard a *ping*, and subsequently almost toppled out of her orbit.
From Venus: “What now, Earth? Did the humans finally figure out how to not die in space? I’m still waiting on them to finally visit me.”
Rolling her eyes, Earth began her reply. “Humans literally cannot survive on you. You’d melt them. Or make them implode. But… no. Not yet. SMH.”
*ping* “So what’s so important that you had to interrupt my tanning session?”
Earth could barely contain herself. She was originally going to make Venus guess, but they only had time for a few more messages before they were out of range. And three of them were wasted on Venus’ snark.
“Pluto’s a planet!”
Venus’ reply came much quicker this time. “OMG. That little guy?? I thought he was a rock. Or maybe one of Uranus’ moons. Haha.”
As Earth crafted her next message to Venus, she wondered what her neighbor was thinking about their newest member. Usually the only planet who could keep her attention was Mars, and Earth was tired of being their third wheel, mediator, therapist, wedding officiant, and divorce lawyer (all pro bono); she enjoyed chatting about anything else, especially something this exciting. “Yup! I’m honestly surprised the humans can see that far away. Maybe they’re evolving to have better vision or something. Anyways, I’m losing my mind. We haven’t had any newbies since Neptune, and honestly, he’s kinda boring.”
*ping* “C’mon, give him a break. It’s hard to be funny when you’re that far away. The asteroid belt signals are horrible over there. Plus, I thought you were still salty about the fact that you’re not *actually* the center of our solar system, even though it’s literally in the name. SOLAR system????”
Earth smirked as she read Venus’ message. As she attempted to come up with a cool, witty retort, a second message came in.
“I’m actually pretty excited, though,” her message read. “We should do something fun to celebrate!! And I swear it’s not just an excuse to throw a party.”
“You mean, an excuse to get back with Mars?” Earth wrote. “But that’s a good idea. The next planetary alignment is in 75 years or so. That’s plenty of time to plan, and anyways, it would take just as much time to tell Pluto the good news if we told one planet at a time.”
Venus’ reply made Earth grin from pole to pole. “What about a surprise party?? It would be so so soooooo fun and Uranus or Neptune can do the big reveal! They probably won’t get our SpacEvite until right before the party, so there’s no way they’d spoil it. Also… Mars and I are together. He apologized for getting his crusty, red dust all over the gift I sent him the last time we were in range. Don’t hate me! xoxo”
Sighing, Earth prepared herself for another few decades of moonlighting as a marriage counselor. 'A surprise party…' Earth thought to herself. 'There’s no way we can pull that off. Jupiter always messes up the orbit-time. Why can’t he get it through his big, gassy head that we use Earth years for group functions?' Unsure of how to reply to Venus, she pondered the feasibility of their plan. 75 years wasn’t a very long time to Earth compared to the eternity she had already spent with the Solar System, but she knew that was a lifetime for the humans. 'Anything could change, and the invitation will have already been sent. What if Pluto actually belongs to a different planetary system? Or what if the humans find Pluto’s moons, and we forget to add them to the guest list?'
Earth pondered the system’s newest member-to-be. Pluto. The planets, Earth included, rarely considered the area beyond Neptune and Uranus. The others figured that if their system expanded much further, the Sun would be but a single speck amongst trillions of other specks of starry light. But, for some reason, Pluto was determined to be their missing puzzle piece. Pluto was so small, and so far away from Earth. She agreed with Venus—to Earth, Pluto seemed just like a small space rock. 'But then again, so are we all,' Earth reminded herself. 'Maybe he’ll be cool. I hope he gets along with everyone.'
Lost in thought, Earth almost didn’t realize that her time with Venus was ending. By the time she’d be in range again, it would be too late to plan before the planetary alignment. After a moment, Earth quickly sent one last message before Venus disappeared from sight once more.
“Let’s do it.”
~~~
The decades passed, and the planets began to plan. Mercury was the next to find out the news, albeit through multiple, half-sentence messages. Although grateful to have the warm sun so close by, Mercury had grown tired of trying to message his friends. The Sun’s gravitational pull meant he usually orbited too fast for anyone to send a full thought before he was catapulted out of range. But when his pinger received the following messages:
“Pluto plane ”
“Planet”
“Surprise party n”
“Next alignment!”
“TTYL”
…even his ice-cold back began to warm with excitement. The planetary alignment was the one time when he could actually hang out with the other planets. His jokes never landed with them (he could never get the timing right), but they still enjoyed his company, and found him to be quite endearing.
Next was Mars. Earth had long ago lost her patience for his haughty attitude, and his girl problems. But the news was so exciting that the next time he was in range, Earth ignored his usual laundry list of woes and told him everything. Surprisingly, Mars was agreeable, and even seemed a bit joyful at the news (which Earth truly never thought to be possible). On the contrary, Mars wanted to plan the party activities—sending Pluto special asteroids, figuring out the best place to watch the solar flare fireworks, getting a new pinger set up for him, all the works. Although Earth secretly believed Mars was only doing this to impress Venus, she was glad to have the help.
Mars was able to pass the message, along with the newly minted pinger, to Jupiter and Saturn a few decades later, who proceeded to spend the next several years fighting over who would get to be Pluto’s “big brother” figure. If Mars’ ego was big, then Jupiter and Saturn’s could cast a shadow on the Sun. They eventually settled on Jupiter taking on the “big brother” role, whilst Saturn would support Pluto as a fatherly type. Against his will, Mars settled for being the “cool uncle,” and sulked for so many orbits that even Venus didn’t hear from him for years.
As the news reached each of their pingers, each planet spent time thinking about what they’d say to Pluto: how they’d congratulate him, and tease him for his size in the same breath. They imagined how they would welcome their new friend to their solar system, and hoped the asteroid belt wouldn’t clunk up all their messages. They gave Pluto nicknames, too. Earth liked her nickname for Pluto, Nova, the best because she was the first to realize he was the ninth planet. Other nicknames—Plu-Ball, Plunkie, Biggie Smalls, Golf Ball (Mars’ contribution)—circulated the belt as anticipation grew. Most planets hadn’t even gotten the chance to talk to Pluto yet.
However, Uranus, Pluto’s closest neighbor in orbit, had just two chances to talk to Pluto before the special day. One of those chances would be right before the surprise as the planets grew closer in alignment—but Uranus’ first opportunity arose about five decades after Earth’s announcement.
Uranus, although he was typically the most chill planet, wavered in his confidence as he and Pluto became closer in range. As the butt of the planets’ jokes, Uranus could keep a cool head in most instances, but the thought of meeting Pluto left him terrified of making a bad impression. Neptune, Uranus’ other close neighbor, felt neutral about the situation, as he did about most situations. Even though it was technically Neptune that was Pluto’s closest neighbor, their range was cut short by an unlucky orbital setup. Thus, it fell to Uranus to deliver the pinger to Pluto and establish communication.
Ping. Neptune was in range.
Uranus watched as Neptune’s message hurtled towards him, bearing Pluto’s new pinger (specially made by space goblins, and containing the last ping-chip around for light years). The message simply said, “Good luck, you’ll do fine.” Uranus took a deep breath as Neptune passed out of range once more.
In just a few moments, Uranus would be on his own.
As Pluto neared, Uranus took a good look at him for the first time. Uranus had seen Pluto plenty of times before, but never gave him a second glance; up till now, he had appeared no more significant than any other rock or asteroid he happened to pass by. Once he had really considered him though, Uranus wondered how he could have gone unnoticed all this time. Pluto was small, but he was undeniably unique. Laced with rock-veins glowing with a golden hue, Pluto sported craters, mountains, and valleys of all sizes. 'He definitely has the makings of a planet,' Uranus thought.
Looking at his pinger, Uranus realized he was almost in range with Pluto. He steadied himself, counted to three, and sent the new pinger over. After a nervous beat, he saw its twinkling light flick on! Pluto should be able to receive his message now—Uranus already had it all typed out, ready to hit send at the drop of a meteor. As the distance between them closed, Uranus sent his message to Pluto.
“Hey! Pluto, right? I’m Uranus. It’s okay if you laugh at my name, it’s funny to me too. Nice to meet you!”
Uranus waited for a response, wishing the asteroid belt would move faster. He hoped that Pluto liked his message.
*ping*
From Pluto: “Hi, it’s nice to meet you, Uranus!”
Uranus almost flung his pinger into space in excitement before quickly typing a response. “How’s it going? Does your pinger work okay?”
*ping* “It works great, thank you.”
A moment went by, and a second message came through. “Why did you give me this?”
~~~
Unbeknownst to Uranus, Pluto had been desperately hoping for one of the planets to reach out to him ever since his formation. Pluto had watched the planets send messages through the asteroid belt, catching a glimpse of their glowing devices every now and then. He was always curious, but was resigned to his outsider status. He knew he didn’t fit in with them, which was why he was initially wary of Uranus’ message. "It’s probably my acne," Pluto often grumbled to himself, "my craters are just so big and I’m so small. It’s not fair, why don’t I get any cool rings? They’ll never like me." But, after having only Charon for company, he relished in the thought of making new friends.
“What do you think, Charon?” Pluto trusted his moon more than the sun’s heat.
Charon sniffed. “I think they are fools for having dallied so long. I saw your splendor long ago— but the Oblong One seems true of heart. I think you should give it a chance, but do not forget yourself, Pluto.”
Fighting the fear rising in his stomach, a small smile began to bloom on Pluto’s surface, and then blossomed into a real, genuine grin. After another second, the next message from Uranus came through!
Ping! “You’re my closest orbital neighbor! I wanted to finally meet you after all this time.”
Comforted by his companion’s reassurance, and with a healthy dose of cautious optimism, Pluto replied, “I’m so glad, it’s nice to finally talk to you too, neighbor! :)”
*ping* An immediate response! “I’m glad you’re getting the hang of the pinger,” Uranus’ message read.
Pluto had had no idea communication like this existed. “It works so fast,” he wrote. “How does it work?”
Pluto received three messages back:
“HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA”
“Sorry it’s just funny you think the pinger is fast”
“It’s the asteroid belt! It can carry real time messages while we’re in range of each other, but otherwise the belt powers long distance communication slower than you can even fathom. I’m still waiting on a birthday present from Jupiter, and I’ve already had two more birthdays since then.”
Pluto smiled as he read Uranus’ messages. 'I can really talk to the other planets,' he marveled to himself, the thought evoking a nervous, but joyful, feeling.
“Wow,” Pluto typed back, “that’s awesome!” as he attempted to ignore his growing nerves. He was having so much fun with his new pinger that he couldn’t help but be terrified of messing things up. This was the first time he felt like anyone else in the universe even saw him, except Charon, let alone actually care to have a conversation with him.
“How do ya like your orbit?” Uranus asked.
“I like it alright. The darkness suits my sleep schedule. It’s peaceful out here, but sometimes it’s too quiet. Unless Charon’s awake. That’s my moon!”
A minute passed before Uranus responded, “I was waiting for you to make a joke about me mooning someone. Cuz, ya know, Imanus?”
Pluto laughed out loud, showing the pinger to Charon. Charon turned up his nose, but Pluto caught a whiff of a stifled smile. “Such bamboozlements are unfit for a being such as myself,” Charon said, subtly clearing his throat.
“I showed that to Charon and he laughed, but he won’t admit it,” Pluto wrote to Uranus.
“Do not misrepresent my humorous needs!!” Charon shouted from behind Pluto.
Still chuckling, Pluto typed another message, “Maybe one day we can be OURanus!! xD” Charon put his head in his metaphorical hands and sighed.
Uranus sent a plethora of smiley faces to Pluto, and suddenly found that keeping the secret was becoming more difficult as the friendship grew. Instead, he asked, “What’s your favorite thing about being in space?”
Pluto and Uranus continued to message one another, discussing their takes on space food, their favorite constellations, and compared moons (much to Charon’s despair). Their slow orbit allowed them ample time to chat—according to Earth, a few years by human standards—and the pair didn’t waste a second, though it was likely that the messages themselves each took months to travel across the asteroid belt. The planets on the outer orbits, however, had grown accustomed to the slow, dreary march of time between alignments; their conversation remained lively, with messages exchanged back and forth in what felt like a single heartbeat. Their time in range seemed to be waning all too quickly.
Uranus began telling Pluto about the other planets in their solar system. One by one, he described their companions, their surfaces, orbits, and tempers.
“Yeah, and Neptune’s cool and mysterious and all that, but sometimes it’s like he’s too nonchalant, ya know? I can never tell what he actually thinks about anything. Ever. He’s too suave for emotional expression I guess.”
Pluto paused a moment before responding. His anxiety had mostly faded as the pair continued conversing, reassured by Uranus’ quick replies. After convincing himself that he wasn’t just a means to pass time for Uranus, he wondered if their budding friendship would be enough to convince the planets he was worth talking to. And clearly, Neptune would never tell him if he thought otherwise, and Pluto began to imagine a future where Neptune’s resentment would grow so big that he would regret ever having been friends with Pluto.
“Does he even like all the other planets?” Pluto typed, hovering over the send button.
'Is this too pointed?' he worried silently. 'Will Uranus know I’m trying to see if Neptune would like me or if he’d at least be honest about not liking me? Is this too weird to ask about???? We just met, what if Uranus thinks I’m weird for asking that now and—'
*ping* “Oh yeah. He’s a chiller, although he never misses a chance to humble Mars (who, frankly, needs it). He’s just the type to describe himself as 'apolitical.' I mean, who can even afford to have that kind of opinion right now, with the space goblin stuff in the next system over??”
Reading over Uranus’ text, Pluto released tension he didn’t even know he was still holding. Perhaps he had a chance to hold his own with the planets after all. And if not, Uranus was really cool. Pluto hoped more than anything that they could become really good friends.
“Oh, and you’ll never believe this,” Uranus messaged Pluto. “Jupiter and Saturn used to be an item!!! It was eons ago, but man were they a pair. I can’t wait for you to meet them at the party!”
After pausing for a moment, Pluto hesitantly replied. “What party?”
Pluto soon received a frantic message back. “oh sory thats not wjt i meant to saywhoops ignore that!!!!!!!”
As he scanned the message, Pluto’s heart dropped. “It’s okay,” he replied. “I’m sure all the planets do stuff together all the time.” When Uranus had first sent the pinger to him, Pluto experienced a glimmer of hope that he may finally be included. He understood that he wouldn’t belong to their group—he wasn’t a planet, after all—but had he let himself wonder if maybe he could be their friend.
When the next message arrived, Pluto had to read it four times before calling on Charon to confirm what he was reading.
From Uranus: “I wasn’t supposed to tell you this… but the party’s for you, Pluto. I tried to keep it a secret but I was having so much fun talking with you and I wasn’t thinking before I sent the message. I don’t want to lie to you, either, and I’d rather ruin the surprise than have you thinking that we don’t want you around. Everyone is so excited to meet you! I’m sorry it’s taken so long, but I promise we planned as fast as we could! As soon as we heard from Earth that you are officially a planet, we just couldn’t wait to meet you.”
Pluto looked at Charon. “Is this real?” he quietly asked. He trusted his moon to be truthful, even if the truth was uncertain or unpleasant.
Charon only nodded and smiled. “I cannot be indubitably certain, but I trust the Oblong One. Pranksters, fools, and hot-headed masses the rest of them may be, but the Oblong One has been kind to you so far. I believe he is telling the truth.”
Frozen with shock, Pluto’s mind was racing. For eons, he had dreamt of being accepted by the planets, and now he was one? It was impossible to believe. But as he read and reread Uranus’ message, he could not help but to feel hopeful once again. His core swelled with pride. "I’m a planet," Pluto whispered into the vast, empty space in front of him.
Before he could think of a response, Pluto heard a strange, unfamiliar beep from his pinger; the screen now read APPROACHING END OF RANGE.
Then, another message from Uranus: “Hey, I hope we’re cool. I’m sorry we can’t talk much longer. We’ll be in range again right before the party, I can’t wait to talk to you again. See you soon.”
Pluto typed one final response. “Don’t worry, Uranus. That’s the best news I’ve ever received. In my life. I’m so glad I met you, it means more to me than you know. Bye, see you later!! :)” He squeezed his eyes shut and sent the message, along with all the joy he could muster.
The magnitude of his excitement, however, was incapable of protecting him from his own anxiety, creeping back into Pluto’s mind as time continued to pass. 'Will they even like me? Or will I always be the odd one out?' he mused, pondering the idea of joining the tightly-knit system. The years of anticipation building up left seemingly no stone left unturned in Pluto’s mind; he seemed to oscillate between finding reasons for the planets to hate him, and doing his best to convince himself otherwise. This party would be Pluto’s way to gauge how the planets really felt about him. He was sure of it.
~~~
As the big day grew closer, Uranus noticed an eerie quiet amongst the other planets. Even Mars, the planet party planner, stopped replying to their message chains. At first, he figured they were wrapped up in their respective party planning tasks, but he couldn’t ignore the worry budding in his core. The wait between each message felt longer and longer, until he felt he couldn’t bear it. Even when they were in range, the other planets slowly ceased to reply at all. He couldn’t bear the thought of something going wrong for his new young friend.
'It’s fine,' Uranus thought. 'Neptune will be in range soon, and we’ll confirm the final plans.'
Despite his worry, the excitement of getting to talk to his new friend only continued to grow. Neptune, and occasionally Saturn, were usually the only two planets he could talk to, and their long orbits meant that opportunities for conversation were rare. Talking to Pluto was a welcome reprieve from the monotony of his existence, and moreover, he actually had fun doing so. Uranus had spent many orbits thinking about what more he could tell Pluto about planethood, now that he'd already ruined the surprise. He knew that some of the other planets—mostly Mars—were jealous at the fact that Uranus was the only one who got to talk to the system's newest addition. When he gave Neptune the update to pass along to the rest of the planets, he made sure to tell him how funny and curious Pluto was, and that he would be an excellent addition to their group. He secretly loved the fact that he got to be the one to tell him about his planetary status before the others could during the alignment. They were neighbors, after all; if anyone were to become best friends with Pluto, it would be him. He spun in quiet contemplation, until he was suddenly startled back to alertness.
*ping*
YOU’RE INVITED TO:
PLUTO’S SURPRISE PARTY!
When: The Next Planetary Alignment
Where: Our Solar System
!!!! CANCELED !!!! :(
~~~
“But we…it was tomorrow. Tomorrow. What do you mean, demoted?” Reading Neptune's message, Uranus felt even more topsy-turvy than he already was.
“I know. I’m sorry. Earth said it’s official. There’s nothing we can do. We all thought you should be the one to tell him. You were supposed to get this invitation a few years ago, but I guess Earth canceled the celebration as soon as she heard about the demotion.” Neptune’s blue hue had dulled. Uranus didn’t think it was possible for him to look even more morose.
Uranus felt himself begin to tremble, cracks forming on his icy surface as he replied. “What do I even say? You don’t understand how much this means to him. There has to be another way.” This was Uranus' worst nightmare. If he hadn't messed up and ruined the surprise, there would be no reason to break the news—he wouldn't have even known at all. Instead of simply introducing himself and making a new friend, Uranus had gifted Pluto a fool's paradise to live in. Uranus was beside himself, distraught, feeling himself to be the fool, too.
He thought he saw Neptune hesitate, but then the final *ping* came through. “Don’t give him false hope.” With that, Neptune was out of range, plodding on in azul apathy.
Uranus felt something inside him break as he turned to see Pluto floating towards him. Then, the once happily anticipated, now dreaded, *ping*.
“Hi I'm so excited we finally get to talk again!!!!" Pluto typed, exhilarated. He let out a giggle, showing Charon the pinger as he typed. The nerves he felt over the last century melted away as he saw Uranus' familiar icon appear on his screen. Even Charon, who usually took little to no interest in Pluto's whimsy, peered over to see. "It feels like it's been an eternity, before I had this I was cool with it just being me and Charon but now that I know I *could* be talking with other planets its torture waiting to do so, you were right about the asteroid belt being slow."
In his peripheral view, Pluto could see Charon furrowing his metaphorical brows at this last comment. "Oh, lighten up Charon," Pluto said to him playfully. "You're just as excited about this as I am. You know you'll always be my number one homie." Charon grunted and pretended to look away, his eyes not-so-subtly still glued to the pinger screen.
There was a brief feeling of giddiness in Uranus, momentarily forgetting about Neptune's news as the excitement of hearing from his friend took over. But almost instantly, the guilt Uranus had felt before Pluto's message was nothing compared to the sickness that grew in his stomach.
Moments later, Uranus received another message. "I know you can’t officially say, but it’s tomorrow, right? I mean, the alignment is literally in like 14 hours, there’s a magical buzz in the air… it has to be! I mean…geez, what could possibly be going on, Uranus? I just have no idea.” Uranus’s throat constricted, trying to keep the horrible truth from escaping.
“Pluto…I…they don’t know you, okay? They don’t know anything. They…Listen, I won’t let them do this to you. At least, you won’t be alone, okay?” Uranus struggled to keep his growing sobs silent. Moments passed, faltering under the weight of growing grief between the planet and the rock.
The sound of the next *ping* pierced the cold silence around Uranus. “Uranus. What are you saying?” Pluto messaged tentatively, his words still glistening with a thin coating of hope. He didn't dare look at Charon.
“I don’t want to say it, Pluto. I don’t.” Uranus fought his nausea as he typed. “They demoted you. They said… they said you don’t meet the requirements to be a planet.” The words hung in the air for a terrible minute. “But listen, I’m not leaving you. I’m going to reject those hacks and stand by your side. We’ll both be special outcasts together— you’re more important to me than some title.”
“Stand by my side?? What, every 120 years?” Pluto spat out the message before he could stop himself. For a moment, he hated the lopsided planet, with its vertical rings and “real planet” size. Then, he hated himself even more for it. “I’m sorry, Uranus.” Pluto choked on icy tears as he wrote, “I can’t let you do that. Not for me. Not for a nobody. I'm not worth losing your friends for. Tell everyone goodbye from me. I won’t tarnish your system any longer.”
Pluto threw the pinger, the cherished gift that made him believe that he truly belonged, as hard as he could, hurling towards the curves of the edges of the Milky Way. He wouldn't let himself be tortured by a reminder of what almost was. 'Besides, I only got this pinger because they thought I was a planet,' Pluto concluded, reality sinking in. It pierced his icy, rocky surface with razor-sharp daggers. 'Pingers are for planets, and I'm not one.'
Even if he had kept it, things would never be the same with Uranus. Despite his offers, Pluto knew that Uranus would never be demoted—he was a planet, through and through. Pluto would never forgive himself if his mere presence meant someone else would join him in isolation; it wasn't fair to Uranus to doom him to losing his entire system for a single non-planet he's had one conversation with. Even if he did somehow demote himself, the others would always know his true planethood. He knew that keeping the pinger meant Uranus would be faced with the same reminders of what could've been, and would either go through with his plan, or spend the rest of his life guilty for not doing so.
Charon made an attempt to grab the pinger, fearing Pluto would soon regret his decision. But, after seeing the deep betrayal scrawled across Pluto's face, he pulled back, letting the device drift away, disappearing amongst the distant space junk and inky night.
Before Uranus could piece together what Pluto meant, the words APPROACHING END OF RANGE flashed on his screen. “Pluto, NO! PLUTO!! Pluto… Pluto, are you getting these??" he typed, panicking. Uranus knew they weren't out of orbit yet. He could still see Pluto, hovering in space with Charon at his side. He frantically searched his mind for reasons Pluto's pinger might not be working, wondering if he just turned his pinger off, or it was malfunctioning, until it dawned on him in a horrifying moment of clarity. "Say something, ping me, say something," Uranus cried, not on his pinger, but rather shouting his desperate pleas in Pluto's direction, "You're my friend and I miss you, I want to talk to you, please Pluto, why did you do that? WHY?”
Though he couldn't hear Uranus, Pluto cried out, too, answering questions he never knew existed. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I couldn’t do it, I couldn’t let you ruin yourself. I’m the one who deserves to be ruined. Please, I hope you can forgive me, Uranus.” Without his pinger, he knew Uranus would never know what he was saying; even so, he screamed until his throat gave out. Uranus and Pluto’s words dissolved instantly into the vacuum of space, each one's fragment of an unfinished conversation lost to the unforgiving, uncaring, soundless universe between them.
Uranus heard his pinger crackle. But range didn’t matter anymore. Even if the pinger was just off or broken, it would still be in range, and he wouldn't have gotten that warning. Pluto had severed the connection. Uranus wailed, knowing his only means of communication was long lost. With no way to talk to him, Uranus looked out towards his friend as he swelled with grief and regret, feeling his heart shatter. Pluto's own Heart shone back at him, its once bright surface slowly dimming as he faded further away. Uranus kept his gaze set, refusing to look away until Pluto passed out of range. When the end of their orbital alignment finally approached, Uranus' own haunting sobs, ice melting into craters where he wept, were the last thing Pluto saw before he passed out of his vision.
~~~
Time went on. Whispers shared between planets polluted the solar system with sadness and regret. At their planetary alignment, during what should've been Pluto's surprise party, the mood was solemn. Uranus had no need to send the planets an update; the news of Pluto's demotion had traveled through the whole system to get to him, and the bright, ever-present OUT OF RANGE warning beside Pluto's icon, even while being in alignment, spoke for itself. Despite their rare and fleeting opportunity to communicate with the entire system, the planets instead simply looked towards the outer orbit, watching Pluto, one who they had never considered to pay attention to before. It was only after they could no longer meet him, that it was impossible for the planets to pay attention to anything else. Uranus envied the other planets, who never knew Pluto; their sadness felt superficial and temporary compared to his own.
At the turn of every century or so, Pluto would see Uranus float by, and see him speaking words that would never reach him. Once in a while, Pluto murmured a word or two, but just the mere sight of Uranus was often enough to cause the tsunami of emotions he held at bay to cascade down upon him: grief for an identity he never should've held, anger at Uranus for telling him, disappointment in himself for caring so much it caused him to blame his friend for a mistake made by Earth's inhabitants. Eventually, he started turning away, and many more centuries passed without Pluto ever even seeing Uranus. He was completely undone, and spun numbly, oscillating between deep self-hatred and unrelenting grief. Charon was his only comfort, but even the steadfast moon could not relieve Pluto of his burden. As he rounded the curve of his unending orbit once more, he resolved to spin on until the sun finally went out, when he would at last be released into oblivion.