The one where Clexa are soulmates tied by a thread that appears once every 100 years during a red moon.Â
Professor Lexa Hartwood has studied the history of Threads as far back as it can be dated, which is estimated to be around one thousand years ago. Therefore, humanity has only experienced ten Threads in its years of existence. Lexa wrote her thesis on the evolution of Threads and teaches Blood Moon anthropology. The phenomenon has been known to end wars when people drop everything to follow their Threads; to start wars when family rivals and traditions clash; and yet, nowhere has there ever been evidence of a Thread that travels up into the sky.
Looking at her hand and the faint shimmer of red, Lexa wonders if it’s her personal obsession with Blood Moons to cause her own to be directed upwards. Now that would be a first. Although, certain theories suggest Threads are conjugated by the human mind and in essence, a mental projection without any tangible properties. Given her current circumstance, that theory might prove true. Though, Lexa feels extremely lucky to have this chance. While the general understanding is fifteen percent of the population will experience Threads, based on Lexa’s own research, the number is slightly less at thirteen percent.
Her eyes behold the Thread’s properties, it dances with certain majestic light and twinkles like a distant star. At this point, it might as well be a star. Lexa adjusts the focus on her telescope, trying to follow her Thread but it’s cut off by a cloud. Shifting her scope, Lexa angles it toward the moon, which is still hours away from showing any signs of redness. The curiosity within her grows exponentially, Lexa is further baffled by her Thread in absence of the Red Moon. There are only a handful of instances when people experience a Thread before the Red Moon.
 The Blood Moon happens every one hundred years and while mankind is no stranger to the red sphere in the sky and its effects, this will be the first time in history when the capability exists to study it. One hundred years ago, there were no rockets, satellites, or space stations. And this is the exact reason why Commander Clarke Griffin of Sky Command finds herself in orbit on the Arkaris 9.
“Do you have those calibrations, Reyes?”
“Yep, right here Griff.”
“Thanks.” Clarke takes the notepad and makes the adjustments. While she waits for the system to upload the manual input, her eyes rove out the small, triangular window and she looks down at the blue planet. It’s a stunning view. Opposite, Clarke looks at the moon; the full moon is less than twenty-four hours away.
“So… we’re a day away and you promised to tell me,” Raven says.
Clarke shrugs, “Historically, only an estimated fifteen percent of the population experience The Thread.”
“That’s not an answer Griff. It was—and still is—a yes or no question.”
“I… don’t know,” Clarke replies.
“What do you mean you don’t know? It’s a thread visible only to and ties you to your soulmate.”
“It’s not only that, it also turns our oceans and crops red.”
“So, you’re telling me if you experience The Thread, you don’t know whether you’ll pursue it or not?”
“I haven’t decided yet,” Clarke says quickly. “And it doesn’t always happen that way. The Thread has been known to reunite long lost siblings and in rare cases, orphans to parents—”
“Which we both know doesn’t apply to you, so your thread must lead to a soulmate,” Raven interrupts.
“I just don’t like…” Clarke pauses, struggling to find the right words. Â
“I don’t like the implication that I don’t have a choice.”
“Everyone has a choice, Clarke.”
“It just… takes away the mystery in life. The predisposition eliminates the thrill.”
“So—no? You’re giving up on your soulmate because you’re afraid to miss out on “the thrill”?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You said exactly that.”
“Ugh, I knew this was going to be your reaction.”
“How could you say no to your soulmate?” Raven looks down at her hands wishfully. “God, I hope I get a Thread.”
“Aren’t you… dating Finn?”
Raven waves her hand dismissively in the air. “He’s not soulmate material,” she says and returns to looking at her hand. “What do you think it’ll look like?”
“A red thread,” Clarke replies flatly.
“Ha. Ha.” Raven gives Clarke a deadpan look. “Some say they even begin seeing a faint shimmer hours before the moon turns fully red and that those early connections are also the strongest.”
“Oh, what do you know,” Clarke directs a stare at Raven, who primarily serves as the Arkaris 9’s pilot. Clarke is the lead scientist and doubles as the crew’s emergency medic. “It’s also all myths,” Clarke continues, “lore in our history books. This is the first time we have a real chance to study the science behind the phenomenon. Think about everything we could learn.” She spins herself 180 degrees in the zero-gravity environment to a different monitor, one that links down to the Arkadia’s science station and she sends a routine data update. “Humanity won’t have a chance for another century.”
“Yes, and we’ll be dead, and you won’t ever know who your soulmate was.”
“You’re also implying that I’ll get a Thread in the first place. To be honest, I’m not expecting one.”
“Nope. Call it a hunch.”
It’s early and Clarke stirs awake to the sound of her alarm for the night shift, though night and day don’t exactly matter in space. She’s tucked tightly in her sleeping alcove and it reminds her of camping trips with her father when he would zip her into her sleeping bag and kiss her good night. They’d stay awake past midnight and study the stars together. Jake was obsessed with space exploration and he was part of the first generation of spacewalkers. Unfortunately, he perished during his third mission on the Arkaris 4. There was an explosion, and the entire crew was lost; a leak in the oxygen line was suspected.
That was nearly 20 years ago, and technology has made leaps and bounds since. When Clarke opens her eyes, she’s greeted by a faint, red glow that fills the alcove. At first, she thinks it’s a light on the emergency alarm panel, but when she looks, nothing on the panel is lit. Strange. That’s when she notices the dim lighting is coming from her left hand. Admittedly, it’s far from a simple red thread as if some piece of yarn. Instead, it’s magical. It sparkles like a ray of sunlight in the dust. Clarke takes a few seconds to study it, twisting and turning her palm as the thread glistens.
The full moon is at least six hours away and already, her thread is profoundly visible. Clarke recalls Raven’s words, “Those connections are the strongest,” and Clarke doesn’t know what to make of it. Not only was she not expecting a Thread, but she is seemingly experiencing one of the strongest ones. Her curiosity is beyond piqued and Clarke walks to the nearest window where Earth is visible. As she steps closer, the Thread – her Thread – cuts through space like a laser and charts a path directly to the ground.
