It was raining.

Tapping on his comm unit, James peered out of the cave toward Tombaugh Base.

Static.

He had arrived a month ago, and it had been raining since then. Of course, it wasn’t the kind of rain he was used to. What was called rain on Pluto was more like snow. The very atmosphere was freezing and falling to the ground.

He had been out on a survey and the rain started to change. About halfway through his shift, he noted that the rain was getting harder. Pea-sized shards of methane and nitrogen ice had begun to glance off of his rover. He turned back quickly as the hail grew larger.

He had spied the cave just before the impact.

The rover had lurched sideways and slid to a stop with gut-wrenching crash. He scrambled out to discover that the back of the rover had been crushed by a basketball-sized chunk of ice. Hail pelted his suit as he had scrambled towards the cave.

His suit was damaged, and the comm a sure casualty. He tried to radio the base again. Static.

James was alone, and it was raining.