Radio Dysnomia by Roza Roza

A collection of tracks from a trip to Dysnomia, the only moon of Eris.

Friday April 30th, 2100

Dear Diary,

Dysnomia! The sole moon of the trans-Neptunian object Eris travailing through the scattered disk in a cold eccentrically focused orbit – a breath of human habitation that has become quite attractive for a certain type of researcher in recent years. I visit here, for pleasure (as ever), for a few days before setting off to rendezvous with a friend currently residing on Makemake.

As I entered Dysnomia’s artificial atmosphere the icy expanse stretched before me, its vast, white seas dotted with the gargantuan ice sheets that caught the machine enhanced light, fracturing it into a dance of iridescent blues and purples.

The Southern Station offered a panoramic view of the surface landscape of ice and sea with the ensemble of low gravity satellites and dots and dashes emanating from the Oort cloud providing some sense of scale.

I journey through the vast lobby towards my connection. With a diameter of 710 kilometres, Dysnomia’s surface is roughly the size of the island of Singapore. The quickest and main form of transport here is what is commonly referred to as Fulminalstelle, a high-speed transport system, whereby capsules transport people through a discordance of vacuum technology and magnetic propulsion. It takes less than 20 minutes to transverse from one pole to another. The name is taken from the Italian fulmineo (lightning fast) and the German word Stelle (spot).

Whilst I do appreciate decorative cabins in which to travel I did find the intricacy of the mosaics that covered the inner walls of my Fulminalstelle to be quite overwhelming as I shot through transparent cylinders that seemed to place me precariously close to the upper regions of the artificial air, a thin veil against the void, the strange unique blueness of Dysnomia’s sky associating disorientating prisms against the tessellation.

Less than ten minutes and I was venturing towards Station #=== perched on the edge of a crevasse. I saw the same blue gauze that blanketed the sky bare in awe as an iceberg calved and plunged into the sea, its impact propelling a cloud of glittering ice crystals upwards —a reminder that the extension of any direct control over this moon was never all encompassing.

Yours in temporal anticipation,

A Scribe of the Stars

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