Margin of Error

[Pax Humana]

According to the Codex, there are 2 FTL methods used by everyone. The Relays are point-to-point, effectively instant travel. The other is the drive cores which let you push, after 2000 years of research, to 15 times speed of light for a maximum of roughly 30 light-years' travel before you must stop and discharge.

The effect of this is that each new Relay added to the network produces a new sphere of exploration. If it's useful enough, that first sphere gets its own nodes that add more spheres of exploration added around eg a garden world or a juicy mining system.

Now, if the games were realistic enough, that'd mean each new Relay's initial sphere would contain dozens of new systems for people to develop (and fight over). One additional thing to consider is that these other systems would automatically route galactic trade through the Relay-bearing systems, meaning they're always economically subordinate to those Relay systems which become trade hubs and regional capitals for each colonization cluster, I think the wiki calls them.

If Marcus finds an alternate FTL method that's somewhere between those two speeds (19 YEARS to cross the galaxy vs seconds via Relay), on the strategic scale of distance covered, yes, that will absolutely be a military-grade advancement. Would it make the Turians friendly? Almost certainly not. They're Space Rome and cannot tolerate an alternate military power.

In fact, if humanity shows up with that alternate FTL method, that alone will cause wars, at least cold wars and probably 1 or 2 hot ones, as well.

 

[abominable]

No. The only FTL in the games is the one the Reapers left to seed the trap

Click to shrink...

Awww. Sad. Would've been one hell of a stone thrown into the galactic community's calm pond water.

I don't know whether to be offended or intrigued by the idea of a female Turian operative trying to seduce Marcus

Click to shrink...

Lol no I meant that the Turian Hierarchy wouldve sent their most charming diplomats and generous concessions to try and wrangle some kind of tech trade for non-relay FTL.

They warlike, military-friendly tech is super shiny to the birbs.

In fact, if humanity shows up with that alternate FTL method, that alone will cause wars, at least cold wars and probably 1 or 2 hot ones, as well.

Click to shrink...

Not really, no. For one thing, the Salarians and, more likely, the Asari are going to have to put the breaks on that.

The likely outcome is all three races will do their best to pressure humanity into joining the citadel. Humanity wont really have much of a reason, let alone a choice, to say no, not when the Salarians and, again more likely, the Asari dangle enough of the benefits of joining to make it a lot easier to swallow.

The Turians are going to do their best to look intimidating to show off the stick that usually gets shoved up their asses (as Joker once put it).

If the First Contact War kicks off much like in canon, we'll see largely the same course of events, with the Council even more eager to see humanity join in.

Edit: Though I guess that's largely theoretical now since author says nothing's gonna change from canon FTL methods.

 

[Lokabrenna]

I forget, do the rest of the Citadel races only have the relays as FTL travel?

Click to shrink...

No. The only FTL in the games is the one the Reapers left to seed the trap

Click to shrink...

No, they have standard Mass Effect FTL too, which for military ships can achieve velocities of about 15 lightyears per day (which is roughly half of what the typical Reaper is capable of). If you've ever noticed from the games that most of the systems you travel to don't actually have any Relays, this is the reason why those systems are both accessible and settled in the first place. The main issue with it is that it's limited by fuel availability, and the static buildup effect which creates a charge in the ship that must periodically be discharged to avoid frying the ship and everyone in it. This means that, functionally speaking, any given settled world in galactic civilization is still huddled within a hundred lightyears or so of a Mass Relay, because the logistics of settling a star system get increasingly expensive the further you get from a Relay or other economic hub.

EDIT: Whoops, looks like @Pax Humana beat me to it.

 

[silentorphan]

I had researched her thoroughly before requesting admission to her seminar. She was exactly the kind of mentor I needed: brilliant, well-connected, and pragmatic enough to value results over process. She hadn't been concerned about my age from the first time we spoke.

...

"Mr Sinclair." I was surprised she called me directly as she'd never spoken to me before.

Click to shrink...

What? Either she did speak to him before or she didn't. It can't be both at the same time.

 

[CNoxS911]

Thanks for the nice chapter

 

[Reynard69]

well, he's definitely in a comic book reality at this point.

 

[USSExplorer]

No, they have standard Mass Effect FTL too, which for military ships can achieve velocities of about 15 lightyears per day (which is roughly half of what the typical Reaper is capable of). If you've ever noticed from the games that most of the systems you travel to don't actually have any Relays, this is the reason why those systems are both accessible and settled in the first place. The main issue with it is that it's limited by fuel availability, and the static buildup effect which creates a charge in the ship that must periodically be discharged to avoid frying the ship and everyone in it. This means that, functionally speaking, any given settled world in galactic civilization is still huddled within a hundred lightyears or so of a Mass Relay, because the logistics of settling a star system get increasingly expensive the further you get from a Relay or other economic hub.

Click to shrink...

Since that FTL is still based around eezo, I class it as the same thing. I thought the original question meant something different (Hyperspace, Warp, slipspace, etc), which is why I said no. If you want to class them as different, then okay, but they're still the canon FTL methods, which are rooted in eezo.

What? Either she did speak to him before or she didn't. It can't be both at the same time.

Click to shrink...

THat was likely a left over line from an earleir draft that I somehow missed during the checks. Removed now.

well, he's definitely in a comic book reality at this point.

Click to shrink...

What makes you say that?

 

[Lokabrenna]

Since that FTL is still based around eezo, I class it as the same thing. I thought the original question meant something different (Hyperspace, Warp, slipspace, etc), which is why I said no. If you want to class them as different, then okay, but they're still the canon FTL methods, which are rooted in eezo.

Click to shrink...

Yeah, your response technically included both, but the original question was if they only had the Relays for FTL, which means your wording made your answer slightly misleading to someone without the lore knowledge to know that regular Eezo FTL is a thing, and is part and parcel of the Reapers' technological trap. Even for me, your answer came off as somewhat ambiguous, since it is technically correct but also refers to two very distinct types of FTL with different mechanics, requirements and limitations as "one". In any case, including your post was intended to be more about clarifying for abominable than contradicting you.

 

[USSExplorer]

0005: Foundations Tested
…​

I moved around the indoor field, taking a pass from a chemistry student named Gregor. We were playing a game of football inside the university's gymnasium, which was, like many of the buildings on campus, a mixture of old and new.

I generally avoided coming here, and even more so playing, as restricting myself was a challenge. However, Lars had insisted that I do so, saying I needed to relax after pushing myself as hard as I was with undergraduate studies and assisting Dr Okonkwo with her research. Most times I simply watched, but one of the regular players wasn't here, so I'd been convinced to fill in.

As the ball neared me, I tracked its approach, judging spin, velocity, and other variables to ensure I'd receive it comfortably and be able to pass it on without making it look too easy. I also accounted for Hamish, a player on the other team, closing in. What I failed to account for was the wet patch on the floor.

Hamish slipped, losing his balance as he neared. At over ninety kilograms, most of it muscle, a collision would be painful for me. I saw the slip in slow motion, yet before I could begin calculating angles to minimise the damage, my body was already moving.

I pivoted without fully realising I was doing so, shifted my mass as I caught his arm, and redirected his momentum to ensure that he hit the floor beside me without taking any real damage. All before I fully understood what I was doing.

Around us, the game stopped, with the other players and those watching looking at me in stunned silence.

"Bloody hell," Gregor muttered, likely sharing the thought many of them were having.

I turned to Hamish, seeking time to process my reaction. He looked up at me, blinking as my hand reached out to help him up. "How did you–"

"Reflexes," I answered quickly, pulling an excuse to the fore. "My dad had me learn judo when I was young." I offered a shrug. "Muscle memory, I suppose."

I'd never learnt judo from my father; I had, however, studied privately from manuals and by watching videos online, just as I'd done with other combat arts. Most likely I could compete at an Olympic level if I so desired, save that I was only fifteen.

Lars appeared at my side, helping me get Hamish back on his feet. "Nice catch," he said with a smile. "Didn't know you had that in you."

"Neither did I."

***
​

The game continued after my mistake, though I made sure to add in more mistakes than I'd planned. It was all a performance to make it seem that what happened was pure chance and that I was unnerved by it. I was unsettled, though not because of the save, but because of how it had happened without conscious thought.

"Hey," Lars said as we exited the gymnasium afterwards, placing a hand on my back. "Don't beat yourself up about it. If Hamish had crashed into you, you'd have been in the hospital."

I nodded, pretending that it was that threat that had unnerved me. "I know."

As we walked, I looked down at my hands, barely able to restrain the unsettled nerves I felt. Back in the first semester, I'd had concerns over the health check and the chance of discovery. However, a moment like today, where I'd acted at speeds that weren't normally possible, was the more dangerous avenue for discovery.

The gymnasium's cameras had likely captured the incident, but they wouldn't be flagged as no one was injured. Still, I'd have to enter the university's systems and see if I could, if not remove the footage, then install a programme to alert me if someone else looked over that moment. It was unlikely that anyone would, and it would be wiped in a month because of policy, but until then, the chance that I might be discovered had returned to haunt me, now aided by the realisation that my body could act without command if I was in danger.

I made a silent promise to myself to avoid playing any sports from now on. Another occurrence like today would draw questions that I didn't want, and until I understood what I was and what my body was capable of, I had to step back and be cautious. A glance at Lars as we walked had me wondering about the odds; the very subject I needed to investigate was the course he had chosen.

---***---
​

The next few weeks were unsettled for me. Not enough that anyone noticed a drop in my work, but enough that I retreated slightly from any social interaction. I still went out with Lars and his friends, drinking non-alcoholic beer, and met Elena for discussions that inspired me in ways I'd never expected, but otherwise, my social circle shrank.

Most nights I struggled to even get four hours of sleep, my mind unwilling to let go of the threat my body posed. Which was why I soon came up with a plan: I needed to research what I was capable of, and if possible, discover some idea of my physical limits.

I could access a handful of relevant texts, claiming random interest that wouldn't be flagged by the university's systems, but dozens or hundreds would draw attention. That placed a clear limit on what I could read and discover in the field of human evolution and genetic advancement.

Timing everything so that Lars was absent or sleeping was simple. His schedule was reasonably regular, even down to when he went out with friends. I had to adapt it around mine, both coursework and assisting Dr Okonkwo, while still ensuring I had hours each week to research. Having discovered his access codes, I gained access to papers and works on the relevant subjects, ones he could plausibly read in bulk without arousing suspicion, and slowly began to learn what I could. I needed to understand what I was capable of.

It had taken me only a few days in total to learn everything in the introductory texts Lars had used in the first two semesters. My mind allowed me to learn all of it in the time it took even those with the genetic enhancement suite months to begin to understand. What made it easier was that it seemed my mind was already piecing together the knowledge against the data it contained, much as it did with my coursework and while assisting Dr Okonkwo.

That my mind found it easy to learn a field I'd never shown any interest in was unsettling, as it perhaps meant I was capable of becoming something extraordinary. However, my current focus was on my physical capabilities, not the mental acumen I possessed.

***
​

By the time the second month of research into myself rolled around, I'd read through everything that was needed for a master's degree in Human Biology and Evolutionary Science. That I understood it all well enough that I felt I could gain that degree was as unsettling as my mind's insight often felt, but I remained focused on the physical differences between me and everyone else, not what was seemingly going on in my mind.

Access to the university's network had led me to create a ghost ID that allowed me limited access to biology facilities that would be suitable for first- or second-year students. I'd not used those facilities, instead focusing on other texts that were of interest to my research but outside Lars' studies, even pushing into graduate papers on subjects like gene expression and epigenetic modification.

From all that, I'd determined several clear standards. The gene enhancement suite offered boosts of, on average, fifteen to twenty per cent, with extreme cases pushing to twenty-five per cent, and in a few rare instances thirty per cent above the former norms in certain categories. Strength, agility, coordination, cognitive processing, and disease resistance were all covered in that, and every increase was in line with expected human potential.

I wasn't in the normal ranges, nor was I merely an outlier in a single metric.

Based on what I could measure without proper equipment, as I wasn't willing to leave any trace of a sample in the systems, my physical capabilities exceeded the human baseline by factors of three to four. My healing rate, based on self-inflicted wounds, appeared to be five to ten times above normal, though I wasn't prepared to seriously wound myself to confirm that.

It was harder to determine my cognitive processing, but the fact that I'd essentially studied enough in two months to gain a master's in a field I'd never touched before then, and the work I was doing alongside Dr Okonkwo, made it clear my mental acuity was far beyond the norms.

All of that was far beyond the enhancement suite, even pushing beyond the most advanced research that was openly available on global networks. Hell, there wasn't even anything hinted at in any literature that I'd scanned over these last few months that suggested such improvements were possible with current science. Even the rumours of what enhancements the rich and powerful had given to their children didn't come close to my abilities.

All of that meant I had no clear comparison in this world and was something new. The only comparisons I could draw came from fiction, be that in this life or my former one. Super soldiers, Spartans, Augments, and even synthetic humans. I knew I wasn't the last one, but they were useful for the sake of comparison. Those were far better guides than anything that existed in this era, and I felt I was closer to them without being able to confirm it, as metrics were never fully used for any of them.

As I pondered the issue, I came to a clear confirmation of something I'd been concerned about for years. If anyone learnt the truth of my physical gifts, then they'd seek to understand and exploit them. To many, those gifts would be more valuable than my mind, even decades from now.

I disliked the fear such thoughts caused, but they came from clarity over how I was different, if not why. I suspected that the answer to that question would remain elusive for a long time to come. Perhaps until I died, if whatever had arranged for me to remember my former life deemed me worthy of an explanation. Until then, I would use the fear to sharpen my focus and contingencies.

The plans I had for escaping the city if something had been discovered during the health check would be refined. Dead drops and storage points would be placed around the city to enable my escape if the worst happened, though they would only offer at most a few weeks of support. Hopefully, that would be enough to arrange transit out of the country. While the continent wouldn't be much safer, from there it would be possible to arrange transport further afield.

I'd also need stronger systems to support me. The project that was still ongoing with David, now carried out in our free time, would be a good starting point, but it wouldn't be enough. If the worst happened, and even if it didn't, I'd need systems and programmes that only I could access and use.

I would also slow my rate of study. I would still aim to complete my master's by the end of the following school year, but at a pace that meant I'd only reach it near the end of that final semester. The extra time would allow me to continue investigating what was different about me and prepare methods of escape if the worst should happen.

Even if nothing occurred while I was at Edinburgh, I'd keep the preparations in place. Every backup and support method might have value in the coming years. It was paranoia that was guiding my decisions, but based on the research I'd undertaken, the concerns behind those fears were genuine and needed to be accepted.

---***---
​

I sat on the visitor's side of Dr Okonkwo's desk, looking at the smart-glass as it glowed. Floating there, in virtual form, was a letter; a final confirmation was all that remained before the paper it contained was submitted to the Journal of Propulsion and Power.

Asymmetric Field Gradients in Ion Acceleration: Theoretical Foundations for Enhanced Thrust-to-Power Ratios.

That was the name of the paper, and it carried my name under hers as an indication of the work I'd put into the paper.

"I know I've said this before, but this will raise eyebrows," Dr Okonkwo commented as her finger hovered over the confirmation. "Having a postgraduate as a co-author is unusual." She paused, and for a moment I wondered how her postgrad assistants were taking it since I was doing something they'd likely never achieve. "I can't recall a single paper that had a first-year undergraduate with such a position of importance."

"Technically I'm a third year," I countered with a smile. "Or will be, once the examination board processes my results."

Her eyes narrowed as she gave me a look that made clear she wasn't amused by my flippant response. "You know what I mean."

I nodded, aware of her concerns. Because my name was attached, the reviewers would scrutinise the paper far more stringently than normal. The smallest error or overreach that lacked supporting data would likely see the paper rejected.

"I know, and they won't find anything wrong," I assured her, trying my best not to sound overconfident.

The work in the paper was solid; I'd made certain of that. The central insight, based on my suggestion last year in her seminar, was sound, and we had the data to confirm it, along with every other minor alteration I'd suggested since then. In truth, most of the work was mine, with Dr Okonkwo helping to refine the process and paper such that it wouldn't be rejected because of my age, lack of formal qualifications, or non-existent history of publication.

Already, I had ways to enhance the work in that paper; I could see pathways that would, in an instant, push forward by decades the science that underpinned it. I could also sense the implications such advancement would bring, which was why I wasn't revealing any of that to her or anyone else currently. It was safer to move forward slowly for now; the acceleration could come in a few years once my name was accepted in the world of published theoretical physics and propulsion.

Once the paper was accepted, and I knew it would be, there'd be heavy scrutiny from elsewhere on Dr Okonkwo and me: her for allowing a first-year undergrad to assist her, enough that she was willing to place my name on the paper, and me because of my age and inexperience. That scrutiny would lead to questions, which would lead to more, while others outside the university began to take notice of me.

All of that was calculated into my timeline of advancement, though the exact details and focus weren't something I could fully predict. Still, I wanted to move into this field. The push that was guiding me there, alongside the sense that space was the future and the source of some hidden danger that had left a warning in my mind since I was a child, meant I had to endure it.

"Are you ready?" Dr Okonkwo asked. She'd asked me that question several times before, and each time I'd answered the same.

This time, I chose a nod as my answer, and she pressed the prompt. The envelope's light shifted from amber to green, signalling that the paper had been submitted and received by the JPP. Now, we simply had to wait.

The normal process, as she'd explained to me prior, was six to eight weeks before a confirmation that it was to be published. Anything sooner meant there were concerns, or that corrections were needed. With my name attached, she expected that it would take eight weeks at the minimum, though it might well be longer.

"Whatever happens," she said, turning to face me, "you've earned this. Your insights and work are genuinely excellent, Marcus," she continued, using my given name as had been the case for the last month or so as we'd worked to prepare the paper for submission. A small sign that she saw me as more than just a research assistant.

"Thank you," I replied, not needing to pretend to be pleased with the praise.

I'd always intended to get her attention and start joint publishing; it had just come faster than my initial predictions. Once it was accepted, the paper would signify that my foot was in the door and get my name into conversations with those who needed to learn it. Both those who would be of use to me and those who might be a problem.

"So, how are you going to celebrate being published at fifteen?" she asked with a warm smile. "I heard that you've been spending time with a certain astrophysics student."

I rolled my eyes. "I hadn't realised that my social life was something you were interested in," I responded, choosing not to answer directly.

She was talking about Elena, as we'd spent time regularly talking and discussing various things, for our courses and just in general. I found my time with her more enjoyable than anything else at university, even the work I was doing with Dr Okonkwo, which was both encouraging and concerning. Yet, for all the dangers of growing closer to someone, even when ignoring the age gap, I found myself looking forward to when I'd next see Elena.

"Why shouldn't I be interested in my protégé?" she shot back quickly. "Besides, you're already the talk of the faculty lounges now that the others in the department have confirmed your insights are sound."

I let my surprise show there. I'd figured she'd talked about me with other faculty members, but the confirmation was enlightening. "Somehow, the fact that you're all discussing me and my non-existent social life is both funny and sad at the same time."

She laughed. "Yes, I suppose it is. Still, the university is already watching you, Marcus. Once the paper's published, they're going to do so even more. A genius like you doesn't come along often, and they'll want to milk that however they can."

"I'll manage."

"I believe you will," she responded while smiling. "I just hope you understand what you're getting into."

I smirked, letting a hint of genuine emotion show. "I rarely understand what I'm getting into, Dr Okonkwo. I've found it doesn't stop me."

She laughed at that, the tension breaking. "No. I don't suppose it does."

---***---

​

​

 

[Stormbringer117]

Is he like Captain American strong? Or like Spiderman strong?

 

[abominable]

What was I?

Click to shrink...

You're a protagonist. That means you're on a one-way street with shit. And you're going the wrong way.

 

[USSExplorer]

Is he like Captain American strong? Or like Spiderman strong?

Click to shrink...

Given how those levels of 'strong' vary, let's just go with "Yes" and see where things head

You're a protagonist. That means you're on a one-way street with shit. And you're going the wrong way.

Click to shrink...

Might be one of the most amusing answers to that sort of question I've ever read.

 

[eien]

Ok, all my chips on he's a baby custodes build.

 

[Reynard69]

Until I understood what I was and what I could do, I could never let go. Not for a single moment. Perhaps I couldn't even after I learnt my limits. The world, for all its appearance of peace and contentment, might never accept the difference between me and everyone else. Humanity had made clear how it reacted to something that was different.

Click to shrink...

every time he does this, I'm reminded of the college philosophy joke; "it takes a well educated man to be this stupid".

The "different" things humanity attacks are always uncharismatic. Exceptional people have become celebrities for 7000 years of recorded history, to the point that "well, they're stronger/smarter/more inventive than 99% of people; they MUST be the children of god, obviously". And in the west, ESPECIALLY physically gifted people. Showing yourself to be an obscene sports prodigy is the best way to positive reputation.

Hell, just doc wakanda's reaction to him should have been a crack in that idea, never mind his graduation with honors sir.

Heck, I almost WANT XCOM to show up and take him at this point. At least then his hypocrisy in being constantly cripplingly paranoid but still seeking attention would be justified.

That meant I was something new. Something that shouldn't exist.

Click to shrink...

something they wouldn't know was special, because they'd have no context for it.

But I had been careful about how much to reveal.

Click to shrink...

Mostly if you intend to profit from it after school.

 

[Lokabrenna]

every time he does this, I'm reminded of the college philosophy joke; "it takes a well educated man to be this stupid".

The "different" things humanity attacks are always uncharismatic. Exceptional people have become celebrities for 7000 years of recorded history, to the point that "well, they're stronger/smarter/more inventive than 99% of people; they MUST be the children of god, obviously". And in the west, ESPECIALLY physically gifted people. Showing yourself to be an obscene sports prodigy is the best way to positive reputation.

Hell, just doc wakanda's reaction to him should have been a crack in that idea, never mind his graduation with honors sir.

Heck, I almost WANT XCOM to show up and take him at this point. At least then his hypocrisy in being constantly cripplingly paranoid but still seeking attention would be justified.

something they wouldn't know was special, because they'd have no context for it.

Mostly if you intend to profit from it after school.

Click to shrink...

I mostly agree. He's been wildly paranoid from the start, in ways that aren't really logical or justifiable. Like how he mused that the limited number of charging stations in rural Ireland might be part of some Machiavellian conspiracy to control people, rather than the obvious reality that businesses like charging stations follow the demand (and therefore the money), and most of the demand for a service like that is always going to be in urban centers. It's the most basic and mundane kind of economics, not some Illuminati bullshit.

Even if there was Illuminati bullshit to genuinely fear, he's crippling his growth in the one avenue that would actually protect him from it: Fame. Become famous enough, and no one can "disappear" him for experimentation or whatever. Besides, I'm not sure why he thinks he hasn't given too much away already. Didn't he just let them take an unaltered DNA sample a chapter or two ago? One that was guaranteed to be analyzed by his government? At this point, he should be going full steam ahead on at least one or two angles that accrue fame the fastest, if only to get ahead of whatever they're going to find in his genome. Once he makes himself a household name, then he's as close to untouchable as you can get.

 

[Reynard69]

Didn't he just let them take an unaltered DNA sample a chapter or two ago?

Click to shrink...

and by his own musings, as a kid, with a scheduled round of genetic boosters.

 

[USSExplorer]

0006: Summer and Success
…​

I walked behind my family as we moved along the trail, hiking this section of the Danish coastline. Dad had the lead with Mum beside him, while Keira and Callum walked between them and me. The distance between us was also metaphorical. Ever since I'd started at Edinburgh University, I'd been pulling away from my family. They were the anchors in my life, but the path I was walking felt like one I couldn't bring them along on.

As was often the case when I thought about the future, I looked upwards. Somewhere above the clouds, beyond the edges of the Solar System, rested that future, and the danger it represented. That I remained uncertain as to what that danger was, even after nearly sixteen years in this life, gnawed at me.

"Marcus?"

When I looked down again, Callum had slowed to reach my side. "Hmm?" I said, offering the eleven-year-old a smile.

"Do you think there's really life on other planets? Like actual aliens?"

He'd asked me the same thing several times before, each moment brought on by news of events beyond Earth: Eldfell-Ashland announcing plans for commercial Helium-3 extraction from Saturn for deep-solar missions, the latest news from Mars and the odd occurrences happening there, developments with Gagarin Station, or even plans for a large-scale permanent habitable station in high Earth orbit. Each of those stories brought out another round of questions about our place in the universe and life among the stars.

His interest in space hadn't waned over the last few years, and I saw no harm in encouraging that interest. Space was the future, of that I was certain.

"Yes," I replied.

I blinked, caught off guard by the confidence in my tone. Each time before I'd given the same answer, but this time it carried more than just belief. It was almost as if I knew there were aliens up there, but that made no sense. Yes, danger was up there, but to be sure it came from aliens was a leap.

"How are you so sure?"

I looked upwards again and smiled, pushing aside how unsettled my certainty over the matter made me. "Because the universe is too vast and too old for there to be nothing else out there that's as intelligent as us, or more so. Life has had billions of years to emerge on other worlds and spread outwards as we're slowly doing in the Solar System." I looked down at him, the smile still present. "We're either going to be there early, or late, but we won't be alone."

His brow creased at my words as his mind ran through whatever thoughts he had on the matter. "Do you think we'll meet them in our lifetimes?"

"Perhaps," I answered, pushing back the certainty I felt that we would.

"Cool."

With his questions finished, he picked up his pace, returning to the midpoint of our group where Keira remained, looking more interested in her datapad and whatever was on it than the natural beauty around us. That behaviour wasn't uncommon, but she was missing the moment.

Once alone again, my mind returned to my certainty as I questioned where it had come from. I had no idea what made me so certain that aliens were up there and that we'd meet them. Perhaps that belief came from the same place where my insights did: a hidden section of my thoughts that only revealed details in tiny fragments as if I wasn't yet ready to know everything.

That someone or something had altered my mind to work like that, along with making my body vastly beyond a regular human, remained deeply unsettling. I could only hope that, when the day came to learn the truth, I was able to handle it.

***
​

"You're doing it again."

I turned and looked at Keira, who'd moved closer as we rested at a scenic spot for lunch. "Doing what?" I asked my sister.

She was starting university herself this autumn, and I was thankful that she never seemed upset that I'd done so before her.

"Being here but not here," she answered before gesturing towards another table where our parents sat with Callum, as they packed away the memory-polymer containers that had kept our lunch fresh and at the perfect temperature. "This is supposed to be a family holiday, but you're moving like you're somewhere else."

"Says the girl who's always on her pad," I countered.

She rolled her eyes. "You know what I mean, Marcus." She jabbed a finger into my arm. "I might be talking with my friends, but you're not even here. You're watching us like we're some experiment for you to monitor and maintain."

I caught something in her voice and expression: flickers that hinted she wasn't happy about my distance and might even be pained that I was pulling away. "You've always been different, Marcus; I've grown used to that. But lately… it's like you're not even trying to stay connected with us."

She was right, of course, though she didn't know the reason for my actions. I'd pulled back ever since the medical check, even though it had seemingly revealed nothing to others, and then further after the incident with Hamish. Some might have called the gap between us a chasm, but it wasn't yet insurmountable.

"I'm sorry," I said, and I meant it. "I have a lot on my mind."

"You always do." She sighed and then looked over at our parents. "Just… try, okay? For Mum and Dad at least." She looked back at me. "They worry about you more than they let on."

"Okay."

***
​

That evening, once we'd reached our cabin, I sat outside, watching the sun set, with my datapad at my side, the volume set low enough that it wouldn't disturb anyone else, though I could still hear it clearly.

"…increased funding for Mars surface exploration missions, with the European Space Agency announcing a new partnership…"

Another mention of Mars as it continued to draw renewed focus from ESA and the other agencies. The reason for this renewed focus on the red planet remained a mystery, but something was happening there.

Mum came over before I could hear more, shifting my focus. "Marcus, the paper you're publishing," she began as she sat beside me. "It's important, isn't it?"

"Fiona…" Dad warned from the fire he was tending nearby, where our dinner was slowly cooking.

"It's a fair question, Ewan," Mum responded without looking away from me. "I don't know anything about it, but having an undergraduate co-authoring a paper is unusual." Her gaze hardened. "Nor does ESA reach out to such people."

"They haven't reached out," I countered, though Dr Okonkwo had made clear that they would once it was published. She'd informed my parents of that, because, given my current age, she needed their consent for the paper's publication.

"No, but your professor assured us they would," Mum responded. "You're not even sixteen, and you're already publishing papers, Marcus." She reached out, placing a hand on mine. "You're growing up too fast."

"I know, but what I'm doing is what I want to do," I replied, offering a small smile. "The work is going to help with everything up there," I added, gesturing vaguely at the evening sky.

"Is this the path you want to walk?" Dad asked, barely containing his delight at my progress and that I was entering a field that aligned in part with his.

"It is," I answered, while still looking at Mum. "It's important, and I want to see where it leads."

Mum smiled, though the warmth didn't reach her eyes. "Okay. But if you ever need to pull back, we'll be here."

---***---
​

September saw me back at university to officially start my second year, though I was now working through the second half of the third year's coursework. On my second day back, I was in Dr Okonkwo's office again.

When I entered, I wondered why she'd called me to her office so suddenly, but as I saw the holographic letter floating above her desk, I knew the reason. The Journal of Propulsion and Power had responded, having taken nearly three months to do so.

"They've accepted the work, with only a few minor revisions," she said even as the letter opened to let me read their response. "The reviewers are calling it 'groundbreaking' and a 'paradigm shift'," she continued, smiling warmly. "One even called it the most significant theoretical advancement in propulsion in two decades."

I matched her smile even as I finished reading the full letter. The comments were valid, though the paper was only the beginning of what I'd be unveiling in the coming years. "I guess their VIs reported the results that we expected."

"They did, though they ran them over a hundred times to be certain," she replied before her eyes focused fully on me. "How did you know the VIs would agree so perfectly, Marcus?" she asked even as she dismissed the holographic letter. "Most of us stumble towards an answer, needing to refine the work with each step. What you've created seems as if you already knew the answers."

I opened my mouth to respond, only for her to raise a hand.

"Don't give me the same 'seeing patterns' answer you like to use," she continued. "You knew all of this would work before the VIs even started running the tests. Heck, if I'd not watched you every step of the way, I'd think someone was feeding you the answers."

I shrugged, ignoring how close she'd come with her almost dismissive suggestion. Something, seemingly, was feeding me the answers, but whatever it was lay buried deep inside my consciousness, seemingly unwilling to reveal the full depth and breadth of what it contained.

"I don't know," I said slowly. "I just… I can sense when something's missing and then seem able to realise the solution without understanding why."

Dr Okonkwo looked at me firmly for a few moments before sighing. "I guess I shouldn't expect you to understand how that mind of yours works," she muttered more to herself than me. "Still, in future it would be best not to instantly have the right answers every time. Others won't be as accepting of your reasoning as I've been."

I nodded, taking her advice on board. Slowing myself down to craft false leads that didn't quite give the answers I wanted was going to be tricky. Working intentionally to make mistakes at this level was far harder than it'd been at Caledonian and would only get more complicated as I matured into an adult.

"ESA has contacted me," she continued, shifting subjects in the process. "They want to meet you to discuss potential collaborations on their advanced propulsion programme." She paused. "There are also two private companies, Cord-Hislop and Asgardia Aerospace Collective, which have enquired about consultancy arrangements."

She paused again, and I took a moment to consider the two companies. Both were involved in the construction of spacecraft, with Cord-Hislop the larger of the pair, though Asgardia had connections to ESA. Working for them would bring both rewards and risks, and it would be wiser to wait until my name was more established before forging connections; at that point I would be able to control the terms far better than I currently could.

"Cambridge and MIT have both reached out as well, curious to hear about your post-graduate intentions."

"I'm not interested in leaving Edinburgh," I replied honestly. Both Cambridge and MIT could offer resources and connections that Edinburgh and Dr Okonkwo couldn't, but I'd picked Edinburgh because of the pathway I wanted to take, and nothing had convinced me to change from that. "Not yet at least. And any move into the private sector would mean others taking credit for my work, along with, I suspect, controlling what I can publish and when."

"Most likely," she confirmed. "Still, meeting all of them won't hurt, and the ESA connection could be valuable."

I already knew it would be; it was part of why I'd first sought out her seminars.

"I'd be open to collaboration, though I'm still a minor," I said.

"For now," she replied. "From October, you can make your choices without my input or your parents' oversight." She paused once more and then sighed. "This paper, once it's published, is going to bring a lot of attention. People are going to want to meet you and understand how you came to the conclusions. I know I've asked before, but are you ready for that level of scrutiny?"

"I'll be careful," I said.

"That's not what I asked."

"I know." I met her gaze directly.

---***---
​

I sat as contentedly as I could in the Sheep Heid Inn, supposedly the oldest pub in Scotland. News of my paper's publication had made the rounds at the university, and at Lars' insistence, we were having a party to celebrate it. That I couldn't drink alcohol and was instead forced to endure more non-alcoholic beers that tasted horrible was lost on Lars and the others.

Most of the people present I didn't know, not even in passing. News of a fifteen-year-old undergraduate getting published was the talk of the university, and everyone wanted to use it as an excuse to get drunk. Those people I either ignored or acknowledged, accepting their passing congratulations with a raising of my mug. Those that I did know could be sorted easily into two groups.

Of those, most were simply people I knew in passing. Gregor and Hamish through Lars, and James Okafor and Dr Okonkwo's other postgrad research assistants. Only a handful could be classed as close acquaintances. Lars, obviously, along with David Chen and Elena Vasquez, made up the three I was closest to, and it was Elena's arrival that had the greatest effect on me.

She'd entered with several friends, all female, in tow, and she'd quickly found her way to my side, cocktail in hand.

"So, how does it feel to be the youngest person to fundamentally rewrite propulsion physics in… what, a century?"

"I didn't write it," I replied as I took a sip of my false-beer, using the taste to hide the way my body reacted to her closeness. I'd learnt to accept that I was attracted to her, but being unable to stop my body from responding to her presence was unsettling, as it was a gentle reminder that I was still young and maturing. "I just extended Dr Okonkwo's work."

"Bullshit!" Elena placed her glass down firmly. "You broke something that was thought settled and rebuilt it better. That's not an extension; that's a revolution." She leaned closer. "And you know that, yet you don't seem excited about it or all of this." She waved her hand absently at the gathered crowds.

"I'm pleased with the work."

"Pleased." She laughed, but there was an edge to it. "Oi! David!" she called out, drawing his attention. "Back me up here. This isn't the face of someone who's pleased, is it?"

David looked over at us from the other side of the table. "No. That's the face of someone who's unsurprised by everything."

I didn't really have a comeback because David's judgement was accurate. I wasn't surprised by the paper's acceptance, and since it'd been a few days since its publication, the joy of the moment had passed.

"I worked on it for months," I said, keeping my voice steady, hoping to ease the tension that had settled over the festivities. "Of course, I knew it'd work."

"Just because you knew it would work doesn't mean you can't be surprised that it was published," Elena countered, pressing close enough that her thigh was against mine and her breath tickled my chin. "Or that you can enjoy your success."

"I think you're all doing that for me," I replied, pushing aside how I wanted to react to her being this close. "But I'll try and smile more."

She sighed and looked away. "Sometimes I don't get why," she muttered to herself, though she didn't explain further.

"To Marcus!" Lars called out, seemingly having missed the tension that had formed between Elena and me. "The first of many, yeah?"

***
​

As the night crept in, I excused myself and stepped into the pub's courtyard. Elena's closeness had continued to unsettle me, and I'd needed fresh air to escape her presence and the mood inside. I understood why everyone was happy, and I'd started showing more warmth at my success, but I knew it was nothing more than a first step: the beginning of a journey that led somewhere I didn't yet know.

I'd barely been outside for five minutes before I heard footsteps behind me, and knew from the scent that came with them who had followed me out.

"Look, I get that you can't really enjoy this, okay?" Elena said as she moved to stand near me, her body swaying slightly from her drinks. "But stop pretending that you're not hiding something from everyone."

"There's nothi–"

"Don't," she cut in, her breath warm against the evening air. "I'm drunk, not stupid, okay? You're brilliant, and you're scared. I don't know what it is, but whatever it is, it's keeping you from making friends and letting anyone close." She leaned forward. "You calculate everything, even this." Her hands waved randomly. "Right now, that mind of yours is working out how to respond and predict what I'm going to do and how to behave."

I stayed silent, having no comeback when she'd been that accurate.

"Just… you don't have to keep your distance, you know?" she continued, her voice softening. "Some of us, Lars, David… me." Her voice dropped to barely a whisper as she mentioned herself. "God help us, but we care about you, okay? We're not trying to ride your coattails. We're your friends, or at least I hope we are."

"You are," I replied, even if it was strange, given how I'd approached my life so far, to consider that I had friends.

"Good." She pushed off from the wall and moved close enough that her perfume mingled in dangerous ways with her breath. "Come back inside and enjoy the moment then. If not for yourself, then for those of us who want to see you succeed and are happy for you."

She offered her hand, and I took it, letting her guide me back towards the pub. I did my best to ignore how warm her hand felt, or what the contact was shifting inside me. Of everyone I'd met, she was the one who seemed able to slice through the walls I placed to keep my distance from others.

Part of that was because I was attracted to her; I didn't deny that any longer. But there was more to it. What it was lay outside my plans and timelines, and as we entered the pub, I found that I was enjoying the uncertainty that she generated whenever she was around me, even if I knew, because of the age gap, that nothing would come of the uncertainty she generated.

I didn't know if I'd be able to let her in completely, or even as far as she might one day want, but until then I'd make sure to keep her close. Friends were a rare thing for me, and I should cherish them.
---***---

 

[CNoxS911]

Thanks for the great wonderful chapter

 

[al103]

I sat by the window, watching the Atlantic throw itself against the rocks below as the night slowly crept up on us. Callum had claimed the seat beside me, his nine-year-old energy temporarily exhausted by a day exploring tide pools.

"Marcus?" His voice was quieter than usual. "Do you think there's life on other planets?"

I glanced at him. His eyes held that particular intensity children got when asking questions that mattered to them. Not idle curiosity, but something deeper.

"Yes," I said. "I'm certain of it."

"How do you know?"

I considered the question. With adults, I would have hedged my answer. Probability arguments, the Drake equation, the sheer vastness of the universe making isolation statistically improbable; those were the logical routes through which to craft an answer. Maybe mixed in with some general vagueness that they would expect from a teenager.

But Callum wasn't asking for statistics.

"Because the universe is too big for us to be alone," I replied. "And too old. Life has had billions of years to emerge, grow, and spread outwards. We're not special, Cal. We're just early. Or possibly late."

He considered my words with the odd intensity that only a child seemed to possess. "Will we meet them? The aliens?" His eyes lit up with fresh energy and excitement.

"Someday. Maybe sooner than anyone expects."

Click to shrink...

"Marcus?"

I looked down at my eleven-year-old brother and smiled. "Hmm?"

"Do you think there's really life on other planets? Like, actual aliens?"

He'd asked me that before, first after my speech at Caledonian Academy and then every time I returned home. It wasn't unusual. Like many his age, Callum was fascinated by space, though I sensed it had grown stronger since that speech last year.

"Yes," I replied. "I'm certain of it."

I blinked, caught off guard by the confidence in my tone. It wasn't the careful, qualified response I gave others. No, I spoke with certainty without proof.

For years, ever since I'd come to accept that there was knowledge in my mind that remained elusively out of reach, I'd been certain there was life out there. Something lurked in the shadows, waiting and watching, and would one day threaten everyone. I had no proof of this, yet I could feel it in my bones with more certainty than I'd felt across two lifetimes.

"How do you know?"

My gaze shifted upwards again, the path we were walking already mapped out to avoid tripping. "Because the universe is too big for us to be alone. And too old. Life has had billions of years to emerge, grow, and spread. We're not special, Cal. We're just early, or possibly late."

When I looked down, his brow was creased. His young mind was hard at work processing my words, turning them over with the gravity only a child could bring to such matters. "Will we meet them? The aliens?"

"Someday. Maybe sooner than anyone expects."

"Cool." He grinned and bounded ahead, apparently satisfied.

Click to shrink...

You pretty much repeated scene 1 to 1.

 

[loki98065]

thanks for the chapter, getting closer to the mc figuring out where he is. I am looking forward to seeing what tech trees up give him.

 

[Lokabrenna]

You pretty much repeated scene 1 to 1.

Click to shrink...

Aha! I knew I'd read that scene before. It was bothering me the whole time, but I wasn't sure if it was just deja vu, or if I was remembering a different story entirely.

As for the rest, honestly this one's a bit of a chore to read. While I do not believe OP used AI to write this chapter, it is absolutely riddled with one of the main features that makes AI writing so obnoxious: the intricate over-detailing of every single scene and every inconsequential moment, which serves no real purpose but to drag things out and inject melodrama at every turn. Nobody can just say something, or make a simple gesture, or anything like that. It's always got to be some hyper-flowery, overwrought bit that takes ten times as long to get the point across for no appreciable gain. I was deeply tempted to just skim over large sections, because the chapter refuses to stop jerking itself off and just get to the point. While there's something to be said for trying to add a bit of complexity and avoid oversimplifying things, this chapter takes it way too far, imo, and it turns into a straight up slog.

 

[USSExplorer]

You pretty much repeated scene 1 to 1.

Click to shrink...

I'm aware, and as someone who has both younger siblings and children, I've dealt with moments where they ask the same basic question at multiple times over the years. The reason it was done here was to show Callum's focus on aliens/space, as it plays into his character development.

While I do not believe OP used AI to write this chapter

Click to shrink...

Nah, I wrote it all myself. I have used AI to help world-build as there's almost nothing for the pre-game years to borrow on, but the writing is mine and mine alone.

the intricate over-detailing of every single scene and every inconsequential moment, which serves no real purpose but to drag things out and inject melodrama at every turn.

Click to shrink...

That is a style of my writing that's been in play for many a year. Sorry its a chore/boring for you, but it's just the way I write now that I've settled into doing it heavily with multiple ongoing stories.

 

[Pax Humana]

I love the irony of the MC having all this extra knowledge and understanding about everything external to him but still having such large gaps in self-knowledge, both body and mind.

 

[silentorphan]

I'm aware, and as someone who has both younger siblings and children, I've dealt with moments where they ask the same basic question at multiple times over the years. The reason it was done here was to show Callum's focus on aliens/space, as it plays into his character development.

Click to shrink...

What bothers me is Marcus' reply. It's one thing for younger kids to ask the same questions over and over, especially if they're short, basic questions. It's another for the person answering to repeat the exact same one each time, word for word, especially if it's a long-winded reply.

For example, if I were asked that question IRL, I'd give the long answer the first time, and then every following time I'm asked, I'd just truncate it to "Because the galaxy's too big for us to be alone" and leave it there.

 

[al103]

I'm aware, and as someone who has both younger siblings and children, I've dealt with moments where they ask the same basic question at multiple times over the years. The reason it was done here was to show Callum's focus on aliens/space, as it plays into his character development.

Click to shrink...

It doesn't work. Because it plays more into "author is idiot who can't remember what he written 3 chapters ago" and not "kids are stupid and aliens/space blah blah blah". Unless you would write explanation after chapter... which a lot of people do not read and in general if something like that should be explained that it doesn't work in the first place.

 

[Reynard69]

Woop, heating up despite a vacation.

Out of everyone I moved around with, using carefully crafted personas and half-truths, it was their reactions and their doubts that hurt the most. I wanted to tell them; I did, but they couldn't handle the truth.

Click to shrink...

View: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gvypKtPhRU0&t=5s

And any move to the private sector would bring constraints that would limit what I could publish and when."

Click to shrink...

Meaning capital constraints? Or regulatory constraints?

Because both of them can, and regularly are, bypassed.

Think about how gigantic companies billions in debt are still able to buy out other gigantic companies. They go to a bank, offer their business as collateral, and take out a billion dollar loan to buy their competition. And the banks let them, because of the sunk cost fallacy, and various central bank histories of 100 year debts as their backbone. This is done even better by companies that aren't failing. They mortgage a patent to gain holdings, their holdings to expand their holdings and rapidly outpace the debt through explosive growth. This would work obscenely better for someone like Marcus, who doesn't need decades and ruinous research budgets or really stupid modern financial tricks to refine their profits.

And regulations, lol. No matter what government you're dealing with, they're always willing to forgive outright illegal things, if you offer a strategic advantage, command enough of the economy your censure would make elections uncertain, or you had enough money to simply buy them. Which, sadly, doesn't require nearly as much money as most people think.

 

[silentorphan]

Meaning capital constraints? Or regulatory constraints?

Click to shrink...

I'm thinking it's more internal? "Your research is now the company's IP, and the company decides what and when you publish, if at all. Also, your research stays with us even after you leave."

 

[Reynard69]

I'm thinking it's more internal? "Your research is now the company's IP, and the company decides what and when you publish, if at all. Also, your research stays with us even after you leave."

Click to shrink...

Ah, I suppose that was me brain farting. I was starting from the assumption he would be making the company and calling the shots. Like Tony Stark. From the comics, no the MCU.

 

[Lokabrenna]

That is a style of my writing that's been in play for many a year. Sorry its a chore/boring for you, but it's just the way I write now that I've settled into doing it heavily with multiple ongoing stories.

Click to shrink...

Alright, thanks for the heads-up. I'll see myself out, then.

 

[USSExplorer]

For example, if I were asked that question IRL, I'd give the long answer the first time, and then every following time I'm asked, I'd just truncate it to "Because the galaxy's too big for us to be alone" and leave it there.

Click to shrink...

Because it plays more into "author is idiot who can't remember what he written 3 chapters ago" and not "kids are stupid and aliens/space blah blah blah".

Click to shrink...

Yeah, that was my bad when writing the story and not spotting it. I'll try to keep an eye out for that sort of thing in future, though, none of my supporters noticed it, and as I'm juggling 4 active stories, there's a fair chance I'll have a scene that needs redrafting because of that (i ope not, but given I'm over 50 chapters into this privately, then I can't say for certain).

Meaning capital constraints? Or regulatory constraints?

Click to shrink...

As someone already mentioned, it's more an intellectual constraint. I do intend for him to start a company, but he needs influence, power, and wealth to do so. And wealth thats not controlled by the major players, be that banks, conglomerates, or others. (If possible)

Alright, thanks for the heads-up. I'll see myself out, then.

Click to shrink...

Yeah, no worries. Sorry to see you go.