How I Killed Pluto and Why It Had It Coming - Mike Brown [102]
There wasn’t much, and what there was was hardly recognizable. Obscure demigods of long-forgotten activities. Minor protectors of long-gone professions. But one name grabbed my attention. I remembered this name from my high school mythology readings, and I couldn’t believe no one had used it before. Here was a major goddess with a fascinating backstory, overlooked in the solar system for two centuries. I quickly double-checked all of the asteroid databases. I double-checked that my mythological memory was correct. And then I sat down and wondered, for the first time since I had correctly predicted my sister’s pregnancy, whether or not there was some sort of cosmic force governing the stars and planets and even the dwarf planets after all. Maybe there was some sort of fate that had kept this name free until now, the perfect time for it to be unveiled. Maybe there was no free will in any of this. That idea is, of course, crazy, but it’s hard not to think crazy thoughts now and then.
I quickly e-mailed Chad and David, and we all agreed: the largest dwarf planet, temporarily nicknamed Xena, cause of the largest astronomical showdown in generations and the killer of Pluto, would henceforth be called Eris, after the Greek goddess of discord and strife.
I love the myth of Eris. As a perpetrator of discord and strife, she was not everyone’s favorite goddess to have around, so when the human Peleus and the sea nymph Thetis decided to wed, they didn’t invite her to the wedding. I understand their dilemma. Having gotten married myself, I know that there are always touchy issues involving the invite list. There are A lists and B lists and whole categories where you think, “Well, if I invite one person from this category, I should really invite everyone from this category,” and then the bar tab gets out of control. If you find yourself having a wedding and are trying to decide whether or not to invite the goddess of discord and strife, my only recommendation to you is that if you decide not to invite her, make sure that she is not the only goddess who is not invited, which was the mistake Peleus and Thetis made.
The goddess of discord and strife doesn’t take snubs lightly. She crashed the wedding anyway, and to cause, well, discord and strife, amid the guests she rolled in a golden apple on which she had inscribed “Kallisti,” meaning “to the fairest.” As Eris had planned, all of the goddesses at the wedding got into a fight over who was the fairest and most deserving of the apple. They asked Zeus to decide. But Zeus, being no dummy, took the rather dim-witted mortal Paris, put him on the throne, and asked him to decide. The goddesses, being no dummies either, knew that they had best resort to bribery. Hera offered Paris domination over men. Athena offered Paris victory in battle. Aphrodite offered the love of the most beautiful woman in the world. Paris didn’t have to think twice about that one and promptly handed Aphrodite the golden apple. Aphrodite then mentioned the fine print: The most beautiful woman in the world now did indeed love him, but she was married and living in Greece, and the Trojan Paris would have to go abduct her. He did, but the other Greeks didn’t take it well. The decadelong Trojan War ensued.
I was sold, but I still had to name the moon of Eris. Gabrielle had been the obvious counterpart to Xena, but who went with Eris? I read through all of the literary mentions of Eris from the past. I pondered geographical considerations. I looked at family ties. I was in search of something very specific; I had a plan that I had told nobody. Again, fate intervened, and I found precisely what I was looking for. I sent the proposed name of the moon to the IAU, and I told no one.
At home that night, I told Diane all about Eris. She thought it was a fabulous name. “What