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Ever since he was a kid, Ryland had seen the red strings of fate tied to other people. The ones between his childhood friends, the ones between strangers in grocery stores and shopping malls, and the ones from everywhere around. It was one more way he was reminded that the universe had them under its palm, literally on puppet strings.
However, the existential fear didn't stop him from wondering why:
- His string was yellow, not red, and
- Why was his string flying directly up into the sky??
Ryland knew that the red strings symbolized love, romantic love, between soulmates. It was written in textbooks and in every romance novel. But he hadn't really heard of what yellow strings meant. And as far as he knew, his soulmate was not on any satellites or the ISS. There was simply no explanation for why his soulmate was apparently floating in space somewhere.
As he grew up, the string didn't change. He went through his life with his yellow string, tying him through the stars. The string stayed with him through his parent's divorce and the last time he saw his dad. The string stayed with him through his volatile college years and disastrous relationship with Linda. It stayed when he lashed out and called that scientist a "staggering waste of carbon" and stormed out of academia for good.
Whenever Ryland was feeling especially lonely, or exhausted, or just nothing at all, he would rub at his right wrist. Feel the soft, warm string on his skin that only he could feel. He'd look up at night, taking binoculars to his eyes to try to find where it led. The glowing golden string would disappear into the darkness after a while, and he gave up trying after a few years.
Eva Stratt did not have a string at all. That was the second thing he noticed, after her intimidating aura.
Her wrists were empty of jewelry, and no fate that would tie her to someone else was shown on her body. She was a singularity: alone, with no one to call her soulmate.
Ryland was almost inclined to feel bad for her, as society had trained him to do. She would never have anyone to call her own.
As he was working on the astrophage in the argon-filled lab on day, his mind wandered off and he asked, "Stratt, why don't you have a string?"
He could hear her pause, and quickly waved it away. "Nevermind. Personal question. Don't pay it any mind."
Stratt responded, to his surprise. "I do not need a soulmate. I was born without one."
"Oh. Okay."
"Do you pity me?"
"I mean…" Ryland attempted to scratch his head, but only vaguely scratched the inflated suit. "Not really. You don't need a partner to be fulfilled."
"I agree. I have my work, and that is enough for me."
Ryland believed her. He really did. Stratt went back to tapping on her tablet and he just stared, almost envious of her confidence. She was so sure of herself. He wanted to be sure too.
"Grace!" Ilyukhina shouted one day, across the room with a red cup in her hand, "Why's yourr string yellow?"
It was one of the rare break days on the Vat, and the crew and scientists of Project Hail Mary were gathered in the living space for a lazy afternoon together. Ilyukhina was lounging on the couch, her legs carelessly flung over Yao's lap. Dubois and Shapiro were sitting next to them, their red strings tangled and wrapped around the both of them. How unfortunate, finding the one who shares your soul just for one of you to be sent on a suicide mission to space. The universe was cruel at times.
"Oh!" Ryland paused, "Um. I've read up on it, and it's due to my soulmate not being a soulmate in the romantic sense. It often symbolizes friendship more."
Ilyukhina stared at him for a moment.
"Wow!" She leaned her head back and laughed. "The universe wants you single! Dunno why. Hope you don't get lonely anytime soon."
Ryland bit back a reply, that no, he wasn't lonely, he was on this aircraft carrier with his friend?/boss/colleague Stratt, and he was here with Dimitri and all of them and even Lokken. He was never lonely. He was surrounded by friends.
But that never stopped him from wondering if he really would be missing something if he never found a partner. Was he missing out on some crucial part of being human because there was one specific type of love he couldn't experience?
Did he need a red string to be normal?
Ilyukhina waved the cup around, the red string on her wrist wavering in the air. Not quite flaunting, but letting others know about its existence. Ryland never asked if she knew who they were. The room went back to excitable chatter, a dull noise against his pounding skull.
He suddenly became all too aware of the red strings crawling in the room, ropes and snakes slithering all around while his yellow string still pointed devotedly to the sky. Ryland took one last sip of water and strolled out of the room, trying to keep his hands from shaking. But he was fine. He was fine. There was nothing wrong with him.
In his last moments on Earth, Ryland clawed his fingers deep into dirt, breathing in the soft life of grass through his violent screams. He looked up, at the rainbow over the grey sky above him, and at that one beam of yellow, shooting into the sky.
What a beautiful sight, he thought.
He's still screaming, and he's still sobbing, but for a second his eye lingered on his exposed wrist next to him. He wondered, for a brief, bewildering moment, if this means that he will get to meet his soulmate now.
When Grace wakes up on the spaceship, he notices that the yellow string on his wrist was horizontal. This was commonplace for almost all strings of fate on Earth, but he's confused for a moment and can't quite know why.
The ship is devoid of any other strings. Yao and Ilyukhina are long dead, and their strings have long since faded. Grace sobs as their bodies drift to space, untethered and small in the vast darkness beyond them. They both have lost their only anchor to Earth for good. And they will drift alone in space until their corpses simply become stardust, just as they began.
He settles back into his science work, using the Petrovascope to look at the red arch in the sky. A thin line of red, stretching from Tau Ceti to Tau Ceti E. It looks a bit like the red strings of fate from what he remembered.
But it's not a perfect line. He sees a break in the Petrova line. And as he zooms in further, the alien spaceship becomes clear.
Grace's heart almost leaps out of his chest.
When Grace steps into the tunnel, he sets down his metric ton of flashlights and lights and stretches in his uncomfortable EVA suit. He raises his arm to wipe his brow instinctively, but it clangs on his helmet and he winces.
But then he notices the string. His golden string, that he vaguely remembered for having as long as he could remember, stretching forward into the tunnel. A light tug on the string jolts Grace as he stumbles forward to the Xenonite wall.
Rocky whistles and chirps to him, the hardened carapace expressionless yet so joyous and excited, and Grace finally spots a yellow string on the wrist of one of his arms. The string that connects from Rocky to Grace. The soulmate string. That connected from him to a gosh-darned alien.
Grace nearly passes out on the spot.
"Rocky," Grace asks one day when they're exchanging biology, "Why do you have multiple strings of fate?"
"No understand last three words."
Grace quickly explains the frankly, weird and complicated nature of soulmates. "...so basically it's like someone you're bound to meet. And care about."
"Undestand. Eridian word is 🎵🎶🎶🎵."
Grace notes down the word in his duct tape translator, and leans his elbow on his crossed legs. "You have, like, five of them. All different colors too."
Each of Rocky's five arms had a different string, one yellow one pointing to Grace and the rest pointing to another direction. Erid, he assumed.
"Strings of fate represent love. Different kinds of love. That one is best." He points to his and Grace's string. "Red for mate. Orange for family. Green.. Unclear. And blue for passion."
"Passion… seperate from mate?"
"Passion for work. Passion for hobby. Passion for interest. It moves."
"Man, that's cool, " Grace sighs, "Humans only get one string. And it's usually the red one."
"Why Grace only have yellow then, question?"
"I'm… different?" Maybe he wasn't doing a very good job of being humanity's only representative, since he was such an outlier. The people on Earth with yellow strings were exceedingly rare, from what he knew.
Rocky doesn't respond for a bit. Then he quietly chirps, "Rocky happy Grace have string. String bring Grace and Rocky together. Able to save stars."
Grace looks at Rocky, his best friend and his soulmate. He didn't need a red string. He didn't need any strings or fate at all.
He has his science, his kids, his home, and his best friend in the whole world. Grace is already whole.