Margin of Error

[al103]

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).

Click to shrink...

*laughs*
Same thing can happen with published author who have around 20 betas, believe me, I'm one of said betas, I seen that happen.

 

[USSExplorer]

Same thing can happen with published author who have around 20 betas, believe me, I'm one of said betas, I seen that happen.

Click to shrink...

I have betas (though not logic/continuality ones for this story), and Patreons who've read this up to 20 chapters ahead.
None of them caught that mistake, though I'm not sure how many are reading this story as it's new, and not one of my other, more established stories.

 

[USSExplorer]

0007: Whispers of Mars
…​

I sat in my flat with Dr Okonkwo awaiting an incoming call. The flat had been arranged for me by the University after the publication of the paper I co-authored, and now, as my birthday neared, I was slowly growing accustomed to the privacy it brought.

Staying in the Halls of Residence for another year was what I'd expected, but Dr Okonkwo had spoken with the University's administrators to arrange the private accommodation, placing me in a rare position within the University. The solitude was nice, as it gave me more time to think on matters that needed privacy, but it brought attention because it was exceedingly rare for an undergraduate to get University-funded accommodation. I'd already had a housewarming party for the flat, but today something far more important was due to take place.

The sound of an incoming call meant the meeting was about to start, and as I accepted the call, two figures appeared before me in the standard blue light of a hologram. As was always the case, the blue light seemed to tug at my memories, but since I'd not received a single hint as to why, I didn't focus on the tug, choosing to keep my attention on the two figures that had appeared, each matching the images I already had for them from researching their credentials before this meeting.

Dr Klaus Vetter, grey-haired and regarded by Dr Okonkwo as a model professional, was from ESTEC in the Netherlands, while Dr Ingrid Larsson, Swedish and in her late thirties, worked for ESA's mission planning division.

"Hello there, Mr Sinclair," Dr Vetter began, offering a warm smile. "Your paper has generated considerable interest at ESTEC, ESA, and beyond," he continued, suggesting the pair had already determined how to approach this meeting. "The theoretical framework for asymmetric field gradients addresses problems we've been wrestling with for years, and we'd like to fund experimental validation at scale."

"I'd be interested in discussing that," I replied carefully, having already been told by Dr Okonkwo how to approach this meeting. There was a sliver of excitement at having two such important figures reaching out to me, but I kept that under control, so that I appeared excited to potentially be working with ESTEC and ESA, rather than reacting as a near-sixteen-year-old normally would.

"To be clear, we're talking about tests to move your work from small-scale modelling to full-scale testing," Dr Larsson added. "Eventually, we hope that your models would be integrated into current designs for our spacecraft." She leaned forward slightly, the action making the hologram flicker. "With the recently confirmed expanded operations to Mars and elsewhere, efficient propulsion has become even more critical, and we think your theories hold the key to faster acceleration for all craft."

Another mention of Mars, something that was slowly becoming a common topic of discussion with my friends, family, and others. The increased focus on the red planet gave the sense that something was happening there, though ESA and the other agencies, along with governments and corporations, were remaining tight-lipped about what exactly was drawing the renewed interest.

"You've seen the reports from Promethei Planum, I assume?" Vetter asked, his tone carefully casual.

"You mean what the reports are calling anomalous readings?"

Dr Okonkwo had provided me with some insight in preparation for this meeting, though she'd made sure to hold back enough that my interest was piqued. A tactic designed, I was sure, to make me more inclined to take the offers that were to be presented today.

"Anomalous is... diplomatic," Larsson remarked with a smile I couldn't quite read. "Nearly two dozen platforms from various agencies have experienced sensor glitches and failures over that region in the last eighteen months. According to what we're receiving, the mass concentrations there are shifting, sometimes even disappearing altogether. Alongside the changing magnetic fields, we don't have any hint as to what's causing the situation."

"If it were just one or two platforms, then it would likely be considered equipment malfunction," Okonkwo offered in a way that suggested she was reading from the same script as the two figures before us.

"That remains the official explanation, though it's not going to hold for much longer," Larsson offered. "Because of the… unusual situation, ESA and other agencies had increased mission focus on the region. There are plans for surface exploration and subsurface scanning that will mean moving a considerable volume of resources to Mars. Because of that, we'll need systems that allow for better acceleration to lower transit time, and with higher efficiency than current vessels allow."

Which was where our paper came in, and why ESA was reaching out so early on to take control of the theory's development into practical application.

"What exactly are you proposing?" I asked, eager to hear their terms.

Dr Vetter began to lay out the terms. I'd be joining, alongside Dr Okonkwo, as a consultant, with everything arranged through the University, though only once I turned sixteen. The terms would mean access to ESA's data networks and VI simulation environments, along with funding for further research and a stipend since I wasn't joining formally. There'd also be regular briefings on missions once the paper was put into practice, alongside technical discussions when problems arose.

It was almost everything I'd hoped to gain once I graduated, but, like all things connected to Okonkwo, it was arriving ahead of my initial timelines. I'd have my foot in the door at ESA without any formal obligations, at a place I was growing increasingly certain would help me reach the stars.

"I accept," I said once Vetter had finished, even before Okonkwo could interject on my behalf. Perhaps she could've negotiated better terms, but the contract only covered the current paper, and anything derived from it, not the myriad ideas that rested in my mind.

Those ideas, once published, would see my name rise, and the value of my services increase enough that this initial offer would be renegotiated into more favourable terms. If ESA didn't wish to meet my demands, then other agencies like NASA and CNSA might, and if not, private enterprises would. The chance to gain access to ideas and concepts that would reshape space exploration would ensure I controlled the future.

***
​

The meeting lasted about an hour, during which a schedule was set for when I would talk with the teams at ESTEC and ESA, either in person or via video call. The formal arrangements would be handled through the University, as I was still an undergraduate, with my signature only coming once I was sixteen. Until I graduated, Dr Okonkwo would take the lead on all matters where my presence was needed, acting as my mentor and adviser since she understood the workings of the agency and its attached research centre.

"Somehow I don't think your mind is on what was just discussed."

I looked at Dr Okonkwo and smiled. "What makes you say that?"

"Because each time Mars was mentioned, even in passing, you seemed to be drawn to it," she replied with a smile of her own. "Not that anyone's much different. The issues there are drawing considerable attention, and somehow, I suspect you have thoughts on them."

"Perhaps."

She stood, likely needing to return to her office or handle another seminar for her postgrads. "Well, when you're ready to share them, you know where to find me." She gestured at the now silent holographic display. "And wherever this leads, I'll be there to help when you need it."

"Thank you."

I'd already known she would be, but hearing it confirmed was reassuring. Even once I left Edinburgh, I intended to keep her in the loop regarding my work as best I could. Had she not taken the chance on me, I'd not have got where I was as quickly as I did, and beyond that, she was intelligent enough to deserve a seat at the table.

Once she left, my thoughts returned to Mars. Beyond the renewed focus, something about it was tugging at my mind. Whatever the source of my insights was, Mars was somehow connected to it. I could only hope I discovered why soon, as moving forward without knowing was unsettling.

---***---
​

The next few weeks passed quickly enough. My studies continued without issue, as did the research alongside Dr Okonkwo. Mars was becoming more prominent on the news, with reports about the equipment malfunctions now common enough that even those with little interest in space were questioning the narrative.

Talk in the pubs often drifted towards the red planet, and Callum called weekly with questions about what was happening there. I couldn't tell him anything more than what the news was reporting, but he seemed excited by the chance that there was something there, and eager to check if I knew anything extra. If I had, and so long as it wasn't restricted, I'd have told him, but I'd yet to learn anything that was allowed to be discussed outside certain circles.

One evening, after a meeting with figures at ESTEC who were preparing for small-scale testing of the propulsion models my paper had hinted at, I walked into Dr Okonkwo's laboratory, one that had undergone a refurbishment with ESA funds. As I entered, I saw her with her head down as she examined something intently on the display before her. As I neared, I caught her mumbling.

"Promethei Planum magnetic signatures... this doesn't match impact crater formation at all."

"You're reading about Mars geology?" I asked, making sure not to be too close when I spoke, so as to avoid scaring her.

"ESA sent it," she answered without looking up. "They think the anomalies might affect orbital mechanics for their propulsion planning, and they wanted my input on trajectory calculations." Now she did look at me. "Do you believe in coincidences, Marcus?"

"Not once something happens three times," I replied, drawing a small smile from her at the reference.

"Neither do I." She tapped the screen. "And this feels like the universe pointing at something."

As I looked over the data, I couldn't help but agree.

---***---
​

One night in the middle of the month, I was sitting with David at a private workstation as usual. We had continued the security project from last year, though now all of it was happening off the books of the University, with all data stored on secured datapads that David had crafted. What had initially been a system designed to be virtually uncrackable had evolved into something far more comprehensive and secure.

"Look at this pattern." I turned at his voice, discovering that he wasn't looking over coding, as I'd expected, but reports from Mars. "They're now saying that the issues over Promethei Planum are satellite malfunctions and sensor anomalies, but these readings don't make sense. Even orbital drift can't account for any of this."

I bit back a chuckle at finding that even David had been caught in the curiosity that had engulfed most of the student body, if not the nation and possibly the world. In truth, I was growing tired of the constant focus on Mars, though that was because each prickle at the back of my mind, hinting that it was important, failed to provide any insight as to why.

"What do you think it might be?" I asked, curious to hear his thoughts. It wasn't his field, but he understood patterns and might be able to see something that I'd somehow missed.

"Something's buried there." I laughed at the answer. "I'm serious. Whatever is causing these issues isn't natural, which means artificial. Given we can't see it from orbit, it has to be buried."

"You're telling me that after scanning Mars for centuries, and even having settlements there, something alien is only now reacting to our presence?" I asked after I stopped laughing. Even as I spoke, that prickle returned, stronger than before, as if my words had offered a hint towards the truth.

"What else could it be?" he countered with a shrug. "Unless everything we know about the universe is wrong, then it has to be something advanced, almost magical." I caught the reference and agreed with the logic even as he continued. "And I'm not the only one to think that. Why else would ESA, NASA, and others be throwing billions of Credits at Mars when their focus had been further afield until all this started happening?"

I didn't have an answer for him, but I felt he had inadvertently helped me gain a sliver of insight. What might be on Mars remained a mystery, but perhaps it was alien in origin. If it was, I knew Callum and millions of others were going to be over the moon once it was uncovered.

---***---
​

My birthday passed quickly. I'd had the usual call from home and celebrated turning sixteen out with friends. Of them, Elena's presence, as had been the case for months now, unsettled me, though I'd grown accustomed enough to ensure I didn't react outwardly to her. That she chose to sit at my side, as had been common since the celebration of my paper being published, was being noted by others, but with the age gap between us, I felt confident that she wasn't attracted to me as I was to her. Once we were older, perhaps I might see if my feelings would lead anywhere, but I expected I'd have moved on enough that the reactions would've lessened.

Like everyone else, I'd been researching Mars and Promethei Planum, though even with the extra snippets of information my consultancy with ESA brought, I wasn't finding an answer. The idea that something was buried there, placed in my head by David, remained prominent, and I was now reasonably certain he was right, but I had no idea as to what could cause the issues over that region. Nothing in our current understanding of science should make it possible to affect the mass of an area like the readings suggested, nor interfere with sensors as was happening on Mars.

To help distract myself, I'd started spending time in the laboratory working on new research that would push the envelope, though as November rolled in, I found myself stuck. The work I was undertaking, on field coherence at higher power densities, remained unstable. The numbers continued to break down at certain thresholds, collapsing into instabilities that made no logical sense. After days of trying to see the solution, or at least what was causing the problem, my frustration was building, but at least it was keeping my thoughts away from Mars and the uncomfortable prickling at the back of my mind that planet always brought now.

The equations I'd altered were solid, yet as they floated before me on the holographic display, the solution remained as elusive as it had been when the instabilities had first arisen over a week ago. Everything should work; no, I was sure it did work; it was just that I was missing that final piece to complete the formulae.

I needed something new. Something that accounted for...

My mind froze as something pushed into it. A revelation that didn't come gradually, but arrived fully formed, as if it had always been there and I was only just remembering it, or as if someone had opened a door I'd forgotten existed. In the space of a single breath, the answer I was seeking emerged.

My hands flew across the haptic interface as I made the corrections and inputted new equations faster than I could visually track. As my eyes worked to follow what my fingers were inserting, I felt as if I knew these equations; I was remembering them. They were evolutions of ones already in existence, along with others that I'd never seen displayed anywhere before now, yet I knew intrinsically that they were right even before I finished inputting the data.

I sat back once I was finished, the VI already pulling everything into its system to begin running simulations. I'd crafted a complete theoretical model for multi-stage propulsion systems that exceeded anything currently in existence by an order of magnitude. It was elegant and, most worryingly, completely unprecedented, arrived at without any of the work such a form should have demanded.

"Marcus?"

I spun in my chair, not having realised that someone had entered, tensing even though I knew the speaker.

Dr Okonkwo moved closer, concern on her face, and a cup of coffee in her hand. "It's five in the morning. I was hoping I wouldn't fin–" Her voice caught as her eyes found my screen. "What is that?" she asked slowly, her eyes widening as she read the first few lines of equations.

"An extension of the coherence model," I answered, only just touching on what I'd crafted.

I moved my chair to one side so she could see the entirety of the work, and watched as her eyes moved silently over the displayed equations.

"This is..." She paused and started again. "Marcus, if this works…"

"It works."

"You can't know that," she challenged, her coffee seemingly forgotten. "You'd need months of simulation, experimental validation–"

"It works," I repeated with certainty that wouldn't make any logical sense to her. "I know it does."

A silence fell over us as she looked at me carefully, as if trying to determine what had happened to me. The reaction was understandable, and I shared her concerns, but I knew the VI would confirm what I'd just crafted.

"Where does it come from?" she asked quietly. "This isn't you 'just thinking about it'. This is something entirely new."

"I don't know," I replied honestly. "I just… everything connected right before you came in and… well." I gestured at the screen. "That came out."

"That's not normal."

I chuckled dryly. "I know."

She looked me over carefully, with almost parental concern. "Marcus, have you considered that there might be something special about how your mind works?"

"I have, but the work matters more."

The last thing I needed was her questioning how my mind worked. My concerns about what I was, and about others discovering it, always rested at the back of my thoughts; I didn't need them surfacing with her.

"And if the work requires understanding where your insight comes from?"

"Then I'll understand it myself. On my own terms," I answered.

She held my gaze for what felt like a long time. Then, slowly, she nodded.

"Alright. But if you ever change your mind, if you ever want help–"

"I won't."

She searched my face a moment longer, then nodded again.

"Okay."

I could sense she was upset that I was putting up a wall to keep her out. One day, perhaps, I'd trust her or others enough to tell them at least something of the truth, but that day was a long way off. For now, the work, and whatever was on Mars, was all that mattered. I just hoped that I would understand why soon, and that I'd be able to handle it.

---***---
​

 

[StormCalledRaven]

"And if the work requires understanding where it comes from?"

Click to shrink...

This confuses me. if the math maths then it would be accepted after testing. you don't go poking at someone's grey matter to figure out how they did it.

 

[eien]

Welp i can see the inevitable crash out the MC is about to have when the Protheian archives are discovered.

 

[tankuser32]

All these hints lead me to believe there are other abnormal people in his past or present, someone planted ME lore into the world, maybe even other fictions also as they probably didn't know which world they were born in.

 

[USSExplorer]

This confuses me. if the math maths then it would be accepted after testing. you don't go poking at someone's grey matter to figure out how they did it.

Click to shrink...

It was badly worded. I've changed the question to, "And if your work has people wondering where your understanding comes from?" which should sound better.

Welp i can see the inevitable crash out the MC is about to have when the Protheian archives are discovered.

Click to shrink...

Indeed.

 

[Retalom]

I have a question are the ideas and concepts that the mc is coming up with so far from what previous established research that the foundation looks like he just skipped decades of scientific knowledge? like is he coming up with breakthroughs he has no right to come up with without the data and math that would allow someone to reach his conclusions and breakthroughs? I am really confused why his work is suspect

 

[Reynard69]

Welp i can see the inevitable crash out the MC is about to have when the Protheian archives are discovered.

Click to shrink...

Kinda wanna see what his crashout would be if the anomoly were DOOM, the B5 Shadow ship, the WH40K Void Dragon or the Ethereal base from XCom. If only as extras/official omake.

 

[USSExplorer]

I have a question are the ideas and concepts that the mc is coming up with so far from what previous established research that the foundation looks like he just skipped decades of scientific knowledge? like is he coming up with breakthroughs he has no right to come up with without the data and math that would allow someone to reach his conclusions and breakthroughs? I am really confused why his work is suspect

Click to shrink...

How he's coming up with it is designed to be a mystery. I don't want to spoil the "Mass Effect" reveal, but he's simply finding the answers in his mind for problems that others can't see, or haven't even considered. The data, the research, is, in theory, in his mind, but he doesn't know where or how, and, as will become clearer as the story goes forward, his maths is always sound. That sort of insight, to be able to see an answer without having worked to the proof first, is what makes his mentor question things, though she's not pushing as hard as others might if/once they learn what he's capable of.
That ability, to simply know the answers and not be able to understand why he knows, is what feeds some of the paranoia (though I admit the first few chapters need tweaking to make that clearer).

DOOM, the B5 Shadow ship, the WH40K Void Dragon or the Ethereal base from XCom. If only as extras/official omake.

Click to shrink...

I can't comment on the 1st or 3rd, as I don't know the lore, but for the other two, the response would liekly be something similair to how he's going to react to realising he's got to face off against the Reapers.

At least until he recovers and pushes forward

 

[silentorphan]

It was badly worded. I've changed the question to, "And if your work has people wondering where your understanding comes from?" which should sound better.

Click to shrink...

Sorry, but the change makes Marcus' reply seem, well, not really a non-sequitur, but incongruent? Like he's answering a question that's different from the one he's been asked. (Because it was. )

Since the main thrust of the question is "What if people wonder?", a more appropriate answer would be "Let them" rather than "I'll understand it [my work] myself."

 

[Reynard69]

I can't comment on the 1st or 3rd, as I don't know the lore,

Click to shrink...

You know how in Babylon 5, there are people who live in hyperpsace? And the shadows and Vorlons are terrified of them? DOOM says those people are angels, and Warhammer says they're elves and demons. And both series focus the conflict around them, rather than having them as mere background lore.

 

[USSExplorer]

Sorry, but the change makes Marcus' reply seem, well, not really a non-sequitur, but incongruent? Like he's answering a question that's different from the one he's been asked. (Because it was. )

Since the main thrust of the question is "What if people wonder?", a more appropriate answer would be "Let them" rather than "I'll understand it [my work] myself."

Click to shrink...

Fair. Made the changes, and altered a bit of the Dr's response after as well. Should read better now.

You know how in Babylon 5, there are people who live in hyperpsace? And the shadows and Vorlons are terrified of them? DOOM says those people are angels, and Warhammer says they're elves and demons. And both series focus the conflict around them, rather than having them as mere background lore.

Click to shrink...

I remember the Thirdspace aliens from B5 well. Was a one-off TV movie, iirc, but the show was the sort that even now, decades later, I remember most of it. (So damn, quoteable)

 

[Zone04]

Okay. Credits? This is clearly an AU where some citadel alien, probably Asari or some other long living specie or individual crash landed on Earth and decided to take over or guide the planet in order to get them to advance and research far enough to get interstellar capability so that they can get home.

I say clearly. I meant maybe, teeny weensy, probably. But it's the only thing I can think of.

Because there is no logical, historical, canonical, or sensical reason for Earth and it's citizens to use Credits as a currency. If govts combined, realistically you'd have either the dollar or the euro being the main form of currency.

Credits are a citadel bank currency. This is Pre first contact. This is either a mistake, or plays into:

Someone clearly knows there's a beacon on Mars. That's either extra-dimensional ROB fuckery, or an Alien that was looking for Beacons and found their ways to Mars and ended up on Earth by mistake. There is no other narrative reason.

It would also technically explain our characters enhancements.

Also, I fucking laughed when he scanned for cameras and bugs. That was so amusing. It's 2140 or 50 or whatever year it is. We've got long distance laser and wifi-router based monitoring tools now. What makes you think they won't be using independent, offline, nanobot styled listening devices that transfer data physically. Or in you. Or lasers on a corner of your window. Or the dozens of other methods.

Question though that I'd love answered: will our protagonist ever realize the setting he's in? Or is it an inspired inventor/celestial forge type situation? Or is it just having a mental programming that pushes him into a specific direction and desire. The last one seems to fit the whole alien guidance thing for me.

 

[USSExplorer]

Okay. Credits? This is clearly an AU where some citadel alien, probably Asari or some other long living specie or individual crash landed on Earth and decided to take over or guide the planet in order to get them to advance and research far enough to get interstellar capability so that they can get home.

Click to shrink...

AU, though the signs are currently on purpose

Because there is no logical, historical, canonical, or sensical reason for Earth and it's citizens to use Credits as a currency. If govts combined, realistically you'd have either the dollar or the euro being the main form of currency.

Click to shrink...

Credits are a citadel bank currency.

Click to shrink...

There is if you consider the little hints about some sort of undercurrent to the world that means it's not as 'celan and safe' as it appears. That's been mentioned in passing a few times. A world currency serves that goal, though naming it Credits when that's the same term the Citadel races uses was an intentional choice, and one that will be paid off, way down the road after the FCW.
I admit, that calling them Credits adds a layer of confusion, but it's also, as I said, intentional.

Also, I fucking laughed when he scanned for cameras and bugs. That was so amusing. It's 2140 or 50 or whatever year it is. We've got long distance laser and wifi-router based monitoring tools now. What makes you think they won't be using independent, offline, nanobot styled listening devices that transfer data physically. Or in you. Or lasers on a corner of your window. Or the dozens of other methods.

Click to shrink...

I used that wording as I didn't want to invent something futuristic-sounding and then need to explain what it meant. There are trackers in the apartment, and him calling them 'bugs' mentally, is a holdover from his former life.

Question though that I'd love answered: will our protagonist ever realize the setting he's in? Or is it an inspired inventor/celestial forge type situation? Or is it just having a mental programming that pushes him into a specific direction and desire. The last one seems to fit the whole alien guidance thing for me.

Click to shrink...

He'll realise where he is when the world learns about Eezo. As for the type of character...

 

[eien]

He'll realise where he is when the world learns about Eezo. As for the type of character...

Click to shrink...

My bet is mega crash out within 4 chapters.

Also, and i know you've said you may sprinkle in other ip making it a multicross but I'd find it hilariously schadenfreude if the MC assume a pure MassEffect setting and then gets kicked in the berries by player #3 (Halo covenant, xcom aliens, ect.) coming out of the shadows.

 

[noblej7]

Hopefully he can get his own funds to make his own corporation to get going, both to better his self security directly and indirectly. As well as to give him increasingly more options as well and influence grows. Heck. He's probably got more potential than most to make his own asteroid belt mining corporation in the local sol system. Before they get FTL and rabbit further away. The excessive paranoia as if he's an star Trek augment hiding from Starfleet right after the eugenics war, has me conflicted between understanding and feeling like he's panicking too much for something he ultimately can't control beyond a certain level. That and i hate to see him distancing himself from the others in his family. .

Okay. Credits? This is clearly an AU where some citadel alien, probably Asari or some other long living specie or individual crash landed on Earth and decided to take over or guide the planet in order to get them to advance and research far enough to get interstellar capability so that they can get home.

I say clearly. I meant maybe, teeny weensy, probably. But it's the only thing I can think of.

Because there is no logical, historical, canonical, or sensical reason for Earth and it's citizens to use Credits as a currency. If govts combined, realistically you'd have either the dollar or the euro being the main form of currency.

Credits are a citadel bank currency. This is Pre first contact. This is either a mistake, or plays into:

Someone clearly knows there's a beacon on Mars. That's either extra-dimensional ROB fuckery, or an Alien that was looking for Beacons and found their ways to Mars and ended up on Earth by mistake. There is no other narrative reason.

It would also technically explain our characters enhancements.

Also, I fucking laughed when he scanned for cameras and bugs. That was so amusing. It's 2140 or 50 or whatever year it is. We've got long distance laser and wifi-router based monitoring tools now. What makes you think they won't be using independent, offline, nanobot styled listening devices that transfer data physically. Or in you. Or lasers on a corner of your window. Or the dozens of other methods.

Question though that I'd love answered: will our protagonist ever realize the setting he's in? Or is it an inspired inventor/celestial forge type situation? Or is it just having a mental programming that pushes him into a specific direction and desire. The last one seems to fit the whole alien guidance thing for me.

Click to shrink...

Terminology to describe things can carry on long after the original term isn't relavent. Bugs as a term is a terím coined from a literal bug causing a computer issue, having shorted out wiring and died in the machine. Yet decades later we still use it despite the literal word origin no longer being the cause for computer "Bugs"
There's plenty of words that stick around beyond the understanding of their origin

 

[Reynard69]

He's probably got more potential than most to make his own asteroid belt mining corporation in the local sol system. Before they get FTL and rabbit further away.

Click to shrink...

He should continue with asteroid mining after MEFTL is discovered. Andromeda, disregarding its many crimes, gave us a really cool detail about how eezo ftl worked.

One of the major problems with Eezo FTL, and why relays are preferred to long voyages, is because the electric charge you use to either move large masses, or go really fast and really long, builds up until the dicharge can no longer be contained and lashes out to fry the entire ship. So, you keep ships small, voyages short, and rely on the relays.

But, BUT!!! If you disregard this problem and build on a more traditional scifi scale, where five mile long ships are the entry point rather than inconceivable, due to eezo's normal limitations, you're able to absorb and channel that core discharge, as an extra fuel source.

So, building out his space factory network as needed to build O'Neil Cylinders, Deadspace Planet Crackers and Starwars Star-forges, would be a really good idea.

 

[USSExplorer]

O'Neil Cylinders

Click to shrink...

Every time someone mentions those, my mind goes to the same place:

God, I miss that show.

Andromeda, disregarding its many crimes, gave us a really cool detail about how eezo ftl worked.

Click to shrink...

I never played Andromeda, so it's not something Marcus can draw on. (A factoid of every story I write with an SI, is that they only recall what I do about the setting. Adds some uncertainty to the place, imo)

If you disregard this problem and build on a more traditional scifi scale, where five mile long ships are the entry point rather than inconceivable, due to eezo's normal limitations, you're able to absorb and channel that core discharge, as an extra fuel source.

Click to shrink...

Okay, that's not the worst idea I've heard. And would explain, in some way, hoe the Reapers can seemingly ignore the discharge issue.
Might have to have Marcus realise that after the FCW, once he gets access to the Citadel's public records on eezo and its workings. (Which would go alongside any he and the SA have)

Hopefully he can get his own funds to make his own corporation to get going, both to better his self security directly and indirectly.

Click to shrink...

He'd need more than just the 'child genius' label to get the capital for that. But yeah, a company or two (or 10?) under his direct and indriect control by and after the FCW would be extremely useful.

 

[noblej7]

Every time someone mentions those, my mind goes to the same place:

God, I miss that show.



I never played Andromeda, so it's not something Marcus can draw on. (A factoid of every story I write with an SI, is that they only recall what I do about the setting. Adds some uncertainty to the place, imo)

Okay, that's not the worst idea I've heard. And would explain, in some way, hoe the Reapers can seemingly ignore the discharge issue.
Might have to have Marcus realise that after the FCW, once he gets access to the Citadel's public records on eezo and its workings. (Which would go alongside any he and the SA have)


He'd need more than just the 'child genius' label to get the capital for that. But yeah, a company or two (or 10?) under his direct and indriect control by and after the FCW would be extremely useful.

Click to shrink...

Patent and license something of value. Which can be anything from toys, nice toothpaste, more efficient engines, more easily a software that's more optimized so it's more effective and it's got less up front cost and he doesn't need someone to make the products for him.
It doesn't have to be strategic as long as it gets him the starting money to better snowball a financial base to work from. His obvious and known "genius" just means people will be more likely to give his stuff a try.

 

[Reynard69]

And would explain, in some way, hoe the Reapers can seemingly ignore the discharge issue.

Click to shrink...

and why they seem to be constantly sparking with electrical discharge.

 

[eien]

I always liked the FTL idea from foundation, essentially just using a black hole to fuck with gravity. And it would kinda mesh well with ME tech, thematically at least

 

[USSExplorer]

0008: Complications
…​

I looked out of the window, noting that the ground was still covered in snow, though the roads and paths were cleared. After ten days of snowfall, we finally had one day when it didn't snow, which was when I'd returned to my flat. I'd spent Christmas with my family as usual, though I'd been eager to return to the campus as my mind was hinting at new insights that would expand the breakthrough I'd experienced last month.

It was as I was cleaning up after dinner, preparing to head into the laboratory, that there was a knock at the door. Since the campus was almost deserted, I had expected to enjoy solitude over the next few days.

"Elena?" I said, surprised she was present, as she'd gone home to Barcelona for the holidays.

One of her hands carried an open bottle of wine, and her breath made clear she'd already been drinking before coming here.

"I figured you'd be here," she said as she moved into my flat, sliding off a coat that carried a light dusting of fresh snow. "Christmas with my family was the usual: normal and boring. But every time I thought about here, or I was asked about university, my mind turned to you," she continued as she pushed the door closed behind her and moved towards me. "Always you."

"Elena," I began, noting that her words were more slurred than usual, though not enough to suggest she'd lost control over her faculties.

"Not like that." She giggled like a schoolgirl rather than the young woman who continued to captivate me. "Or not just like that," she added as she moved closer. "I kept wondering what made you, you. I want to get to know the person under the myth."

"I'm not sure what you mean," I said, backing up slowly even as she continued to advance.

"Yes, you do," she countered, placing the bottle down on a nearby surface. She came closer still, the height difference between us having shifted over the last few months such that I was now taller than her. "Everything you do is calculated, isn't it? The paper was always your goal, and you seem more intent on being around people like Dr Okonkwo and me than those your age." She chuckled. "Well, closer to your age."

She was close enough now that the scent of her, perfume mingled with wine and her natural musk, consumed my senses. My eyes struggled to look anywhere but into hers as she stared up at me with an expression that I understood and was entirely unprepared to handle.

"You're not what anyone expects of a young man, are you?" she whispered, her hands coming to grasp my shirt. "You're older than you should be, more mature and captivating."

"Ele–muph!"

My response was cut off as she pressed her lips against mine. For perhaps the first time, my mind failed me as she deepened the kiss and pulled me down. Before I knew it, I was kissing her back, my hands going to her hips. Before things could move further, though, she pulled back.

"I knew you liked me," she muttered with a wide smile. "Just like I like you."

"Elena," I began, but her hands tugging at my shirt, mine on her hips, and her closeness were making it hard to think clearly. "We–"

"Shush!" She brought her lips to my neck, nibbling the skin, and I had to fight to stop myself from growling in response. "You're old enough now that there's nothing wrong with this. Not when we both want it."

"You're drunk," I growled, feeling my pulse quickening with every movement she made.

"I'm tipsy," she countered before placing a kiss against my jaw. "I know exactly what I'm doing and what I want. Do you?"

I looked down at her, seeing the desire swirling in her eyes. Part of me wanted to stop this. I was sixteen, and now legal, and while I was attracted to her, I wasn't looking to start anything. Other things were more important, more critical to the fut–

Elena cut off my thoughts with another kiss, and then pulled back. "Just for once, stop overthinking everything and just enjoy the moment."

***
​

Hours later, long after the clock had passed midnight, I found myself lying in my bed, looking up at the ceiling. Elena was beside me, an arm and leg draped over me possessively as she slept with a content, pleased smile. That smile, along with the sounds I'd drawn from her while she'd been able to keep going, still had my chest swelling with masculine pride. Yet that pride, or the memories of what we'd done, wasn't why I remained awake.

I didn't regret the night or anything that had happened. I was attracted to Elena, and it was clear that she felt the same for me. However, throughout it all, I'd had to maintain control; I'd had to fight against my desires to cut loose and prove that I was superior.

Each time I felt my pulse quicken and that primal need to dominate swell, my mind had been forced to pull me back. I knew that I was beyond any other human, and letting loose while with her might well have seen me hurt her. Or worse. More than the age gap, more than it being my first time, that fear of losing control and breaking her had limited my enjoyment of the night.

I'd made sure to act closer to my age than drawing on memories of my former life, and fought not to lose control. I was certain Elena had enjoyed everything, yet even now, long after the afterglow of the night's adventures had faded, the fear that I could've hurt her if I'd really let loose circled my mind.

I didn't know where this was going, if anywhere, but I knew that I'd always have to keep a watch over myself in such moments of passion. Otherwise, they might turn from delight to horror.

***
​

"Morning."

The word came almost like a slur from Elena as she slowly stirred, the lights in my bedroom beginning to brighten gently. They were programmed to do that every morning as I was an early riser, and at this time of the year, that meant getting up before sunrise.

"Morning," I replied, pushing a lock of hair from her brow as she snuggled tighter against me. "Sleep well?"

She smiled lazily. "Best night ever," she mumbled before burying her head against my chest.

I let her be, pushing my concerns onto a back burner: how close I'd come to losing control, and whether she had sensed it. For now, I'd try to enjoy whatever this was; questions about everything else could come later.

***
​

I heard her moving towards me as I worked in the kitchen, preparing breakfast. Her barefoot steps carried the hint of tiredness as she neared.

"How are you so energetic?" she asked as she almost stumbled into the room. "I thought I wore you out."

"You did," I replied as I slid a cup of coffee, made to her liking, across the table. "I just recover quickly."

"Hmm." She chose to enjoy the coffee instead of pushing, but I sensed she would once she was ready.

***
​

"You're always holding back, aren't you?" she asked after breakfast as I placed the dishes in the washer. "Even last night, it felt like you were… not giving your all."

I chuckled, using the sound and the fact that my back was to her to hide any flicker of concern that might've slipped onto my face. "Well, I didn't want to disappoint."

She laughed gently. "Oh, trust me, you didn't." I heard her stretch. "Don't think I've ever woken up this tired before."

I felt a tightening around my heart. Of course I wasn't her first; she was beautiful, outgoing, and smart. Still, to hear that there had been others before me was oddly unsettling.

"But you were holding back, weren't you?" she asked again even as I turned to face her. "I saw and felt it. Like you were scared of going too far or too fast."

"It was my first time."

She smirked. "I think you reached your tenth." I shrugged, enjoying the gentle tease about my stamina. "But even then, it was like you didn't want to lose yourself." She leaned forward, her eyes never leaving me. "What is it that keeps you from letting go, Marcus?"

I looked at her, wondering how to answer. I'd spent the early morning, as she slept, considering my response to this very question, and even now, hours later, I still didn't have a good answer.

"I don't know."

I could tell she didn't believe me, but instead of pushing, she sighed. "Fine, but one day you're going to have to open up to someone."

---***---
​

By mid-January, I was working on preparing the breakthrough from last November for publication. Classwork remained unchallenging, and the research offered an escape from the tension that had formed between Elena and me.

Since that night, a subtle distance had formed between us. It wasn't enough that I felt anyone was aware of it, but she was not sitting as close, nor had she brought up the night we'd spent together, or the conversation the morning after. Part of me suspected that she was upset that I still wasn't opening up to her, but there was no way I could. The secrets I carried meant I had to always be cautious around others, even more so after what I'd shared with her.

"Sinclair."

The call of my name snapped me out of my thoughts about Elena, where they often drifted, and I turned to face the speaker.

James Okafor had carried a grudge against me ever since Dr Okonkwo had assigned me to her research team; with the publication last summer and the preparations for another paper ongoing, that grudge had only grown. So far, it hadn't evolved into anything truly concerning, and I doubted it would before I graduated this summer.

"Okafor."

I kept my tone steady, wondering what he was going to attempt this time to try to get under my skin.

"I'm hearing that you're working on another paper with Dr Okonkwo," he said, his tone barely hiding his fury that I'd replaced him as her golden protégé.

"Thanks. If you keep focused on your thermal management work, I suspect you'll soon get published as well," I offered, deciding to see how he'd respond to the faint praise.

"My work builds on established foundations," he commented as he stepped towards me. "I've spent years working slowly to refine it into something that will be accepted by wider academia. Your work, however." He stopped close enough that I could smell his breath as he towered over me. "It seems to come out without any of that effort. I've never seen you needing to restart from scratch, or even alter something you're working on. Everything's always fully formed and perfect." His eyes narrowed as if he felt he'd found an attack that might work. "Where's the experimental foundation, Sinclair? Where are the failed iterations?"

"The VI simulations have confirmed my foundations are solid, Okafor," I replied, impressed and concerned that he'd found the one weakness in my work. "The mathematics are sound, so I don't need to throw anything away."

His lips twitched upwards, suggesting he'd been expecting my response. "The mathematics are extraordinary," he countered, stressing the last word. "Though it's a little too clean, isn't it? There are no wrong turns or dead ends. Real work leaves a mess as we seek the answers, but you're always perfect."

I sighed, recalling the same attack pattern from last year. The words had changed, but the methodology hadn't.

"If you have concerns about methodology, submit them for peer review," I replied calmly as I turned to move away. "Otherwise, this conversation is wasting both our time."

He growled. "You're sixteen years old," he said as if it was an insult. "You shouldn't be capable of this work. So either you're cheating somehow, or you're… getting the answers from someone else."

My footsteps remained constant and controlled, but the accusation he'd just hurled in anger had struck closer to the truth than he could have realised. I was glad I'd already turned away so he didn't see my face, as I wasn't certain I'd managed to hide my shock at him finding the answer. I was getting help from elsewhere; it just wasn't someone.

The source was deep in my mind, and part of what made me different. His wild claim had come closer than any other suggestion anyone had made. I was different in ways he failed to realise and that I only barely understood.

"Have a good semester, Okafor," I said without looking back.

I fought to keep my hands unclenched until I was out of sight. Once I was clear, I breathed deeply and slid my hands inside my pockets. Okafor had been closer than comfortable, and only my choice to end the interaction had likely stopped him from seeing that his insane suggestion held more truth than I'd ever want anyone to know.

---***---
​

At the end of January, alongside Dr Okonkwo, I stood before the University's review board. I'd prepared the paper for submission, making sure, at Okonkwo's insistence, that I had built in the arguments, prepared counters to expected arguments, and acknowledged the limitations of the work through experimentation. The experimental work had been assisted by ESTEC, who, after seeing the initial theories, had been eager to support me. Having their name attached to the paper added another layer of respectability and standing that I currently lacked.

Unlike the first paper, this one carried my name at the top. I'd done the work for it, created the formulae that were the basis of the concepts, and carried out the trials, so Dr Okonkwo was content to allow me that position, though she'd been clear that it would mean I'd have to face this very board, something I'd managed to avoid last time as merely a supporting co-author.

I stood silently as the committee, led by Dr Henderson, read through the paper. He wasn't likely to understand most of it, as physics wasn't his field, but I could tell he wasn't able to dismiss it as he had seemingly been intent on doing before the committee began their review.

"This is either brilliant or nonsense. I genuinely can't tell which," he said honestly, which made me smile.

"I can," Dr Okonkwo said. "I've run the simulations, and the framework holds. If anything, his predictions are conservative."

He stared at her carefully, as did the other members of the committee. "Are you certain about this, Aisling?" he asked slowly. "Last time we were willing to trust your judgement without question, but you're proposing that we let you submit a paper led by a sixteen-year-old undergraduate for publication."

"I know, and I have full confidence both in Mr Sinclair's work and in its acceptance."

My smile widened at her unequivocal backing. I knew I already had that, but hearing her state it to this committee was reassuring. It was something that, with the distance still there between Elena and me, and Okafor's accusation still present in my thoughts, I needed more than I'd realised.

---***---
​

The message I'd been waiting months for arrived in my inbox in early April.

Subject: PRL Manuscript #47392 - Decision
Dear Dr Okonkwo and Mr Sinclair,
We are pleased to inform you that your manuscript "Recursive Field Geometries for Multi-Stage Acceleration Systems" has been accepted for publication...

I didn't bother holding back my relief that the paper had been accepted. I'd never doubted it would be, but there'd still been some doubt as I was sixteen and looking to publish in a preeminent journal for physics: Physical Review Letters.

In truth, I hadn't expected a response from them until the end of the month, just as I was gearing up for my finals and thus graduation. That it had come now removed that pressure, not that I expected it to have any effect on my performance in the exams: I only had one semester's worth of work to complete, and I knew it'd be graded as near-perfect as the previous three and a half years' worth of work had been. Edinburgh wasn't going to risk having me complete my master's degree in two years, alongside two publications now, without ensuring that I graduated with full honours.

I'd barely finished reading through the full message when my datapad buzzed.

"You've seen it?" Dr Okonkwo asked, her voice barely containing her excitement. Her name was attached as co-author, and she'd get a major reputation boost from this work just as I would, perhaps more, as she'd be seen as the one who found and nurtured my talent.

"The message from Physical Review Letters?"

"No, from Wild and Wacky Stories," she shot back with a mixture of amusement and irritation. "Of course, the PRL." She paused. "You do know what this means, don't you, Marcus?"

"It means the work is validated and we'll be able to get funding to test it at scale."

She sighed, and I knew what she was going to say. She'd given me some form of this warning before both papers were published, and after the first had been accepted. "It means you're published at sixteen, before even completing your degree, and you've done so in one of the most prestigious physics journals in the world. Every institution is going to be looking into you now, and it means–"

"That I'm visible," I finished for her, aware of where she was heading.

"Yes."

"I'm aware," I said. "And I'm prepared for it."

"I know you are." I could hear the pride in her voice. "Still, come to my office. We should talk about what's going to happen."

"I'll come in after lunch."

The call ended there. I sent a message to David saying I'd not be able to meet him as planned, letting him know the reason. He offered congratulations for the publication and asked, I suspected jokingly, when the celebration would be. Even as I told him to check with Lars, my mind was moving.

Dr Okonkwo was right that I'd be more visible to many around the world, but I'd been aware of that, and with my graduation coming up, had already begun preparing for my next steps. The initial plan of staying here for a postgraduate position had evaporated once Dr Okonkwo had, without realising, accelerated my early plans, and with a paper as lead author now under my belt, I was looking at skipping that step and moving directly into academia.

One paper gave me credibility, but if I wanted to be heard, to have an impact that went beyond simply being a young genius, and to have a place at the table as humanity pushed into the stars, I'd need more work under my belt. There were risks to the increased visibility, but they weren't strong enough to make me slow down. I had to keep pushing forward and discover what the knowledge in my head was for, and what dangers lingered out in the depths of space.

Anything less would be a waste of the gifts I'd been given.

---***---
​

 

[Pax Humana]

Ah, Fame

His fears are entirely justifiable, though not yet justified, and he's already seeing the costs in how that other assistant is reacting to the threat. On the other hand, fuck'em. People trying to tear you down for doing well deserve to lose.

 

[abominable]

"You shouldn't be capable of this work. So either you're cheating somehow, or you're..." He paused even as I began to walk away. "...something we should be studying instead of celebrating."

It was a fight not to react to his words; he'd driven into my one privately acknowledged flaw.

Click to shrink...

Not sure where you're going with this but at this point, tone it down. When you've got a one in a trillion child prodigy among prodigies, who also becomes a high profile individual that has a lotta eyes on him, the go to reaction is not being turned into a labrat. You could maybe get one mad scientist or zealot and his cult to clamor and scheme for it but the standard government reaction is to lock that shit down and keep the golden goose laying eggs.

Right now Id chalk it up to MC's heightened paranoia resulting from his highly unusual circumstances and how he feels isolated due to his knowledge. While Okafor's comment sounds more like a really jealous colleague grasping for something to throw at someone with whom he's in a one-sided rivalry.

The only one who is much more likely to dissect him are actual aliens. Hell, maybe the STG.

For humanity, they'd ask for blood samples, genetics, things like that. And treat him like a celebrity that'll pump out generations-leaping technological advances. He'd be waited on hand and foot, pampered like no caged bird has ever been pampered before.

That's his real nightmare scenario, his freedom being curtailed, not being a labrat.

Hell, he'll be the one doing the sciencing.

Interestingly, I wouldnt put it past the gov to quietly ask for semen samples, see if they can replicate child geniuses via artificial fertilization.

The initial data had been sent to the ESA and had been refined; their help shaved months off the time needed to gather data that such a revolutionary paper required.

Click to shrink...

MC could potentially be a driving force behind uniting the space agencies. If he's willing to be... generous with whom he shares his innovations and developments with. Im hoping he aims for that. The sooner and more cohesively he helps bind Earth's nations together, the better off they'll be should something like the First Contact War happens.

Edit: Wait. He's 16. He's a minor...

I hope nobody finds out.

 

[odinori]

This story is super interesting and I love the premise. The only thing I would say is frustrating is how he is constantly looping back to how he must hide his abilities and how it makes him so lonely. I get that it's a major plot point but it's frustrating to constantly have it brought back up in every conversation or inner monologue he has.

 

[abominable]

This story is super interesting and I love the premise. The only thing I would say is frustrating is how he is constantly looping back to how he must hide his abilities and how it makes him so lonely. I get that it's a major plot point but it's frustrating to constantly have it brought back up in every conversation or inner monologue he has.

Click to shrink...

Same with me. Personally I choose to see it as a psychological lens staining the narrative because we're reading the world through the MC's POV. The way I see it, the stresses and unique situation he's in is heightening his paranoia somewhat.

It's understandable, all things considered, if annoying with how we get reminded of it a bit too often.

Im hoping it gets toned down as the MC becomes more established and reputable, gets more privacy and respect and is more able to focus on his research and projects.

Because seriously, his "vulnerabilities"?

Oh no, Im super smart to the point I generate groundbreaking technological principles from thin air! Im in danger of governments and family planning clinics asking and paying me for genetic samples.

 

[StormCalledRaven]

Humanity at this point is well past the Pseudo-science of making people into lab rats. (with the exception of people who get picked up by Cerberus) It would be nice to see the MC actually start to come into his own. hell, I would recommend he start his own business and use that to springboard humanity forward if he fears the Government so much.

 

[eien]

Who the fuck just casually suggests human experimentation as a threat.

 

[Reynard69]

Who the fuck just casually suggests human experimentation as a threat.

Click to shrink...

people from a variety of ideologies who's base is resentment and the hatred of other people.