Margin of Error

[Reynard69]

My brow rose, displaying my surprise. My brow rose, true surprise the cause. To hear someone as accomplished as her place aside her ego and make an offer so freely was unexpected, and based on her field of expertise, it would be a request I'd accept soon.

Click to shrink...

She stood to leave, then paused. "A word of advice, since you're new here. Be careful around Dr Holmberg. He manages the computational resources, but he asks questions when something interests him. Your work, the usage of our analytical systems, and how perfect your models are, has caught his attention."

"What kind of questions?"

"The kind that comes from scientific curiosity rather than threat or suspicion." She offered a small smile. "Just something to keep in mind."

​

Click to shrink...

if she's warning him, then there needs to be something wrong with his approach to warn someone of. Maybe he badgers people, maybe he often words things badly, maybe he's TOO interested and it comes off as prying and a little combative. But as is... she's just warning him without any warning? I read the section, but this part is still in need of a minor edit.

I doubted I'd ever have that discussion with him.

Click to shrink...

Pity. I know it'd be hard to write, but I'd be interesting.

might well do the same, but b then I'd have the leverage of more papers and greater reputation to negotiate my terms.

Click to shrink...

 

[Pax Humana]

Too small, the MC needs to make a WARMIND (https://www.destinypedia.com/Warmind).

TL/DR: Galactic level AI designed to conduct war on a literal galaxy level theater of war.

Click to shrink...

Nah, the Culture Minds are better.
(They haven't died out or lost a war.)

Oh and your link doesn't match your description, bit of a Trojan Source.

 

[eien]

Nah, the Culture Minds are better.
(They haven't died out or lost a war.)

Oh and your link doesn't match your description, bit of a Trojan Source.

Click to shrink...

Nah, i get that. It's more of an inference based on the Vex in the setting.

The Warminds were actually difficult for the Vex to simulate/predict them. I personally take this as an example of the WarMinds capabilities considering they (the Vex) have been in existence since the beginning of the universe in conjunction with VexTech bordering on ClarkTech levels of BS with time travel and spacial warping.

 

[silentorphan]

My brow rose, displaying my surprise. My brow rose, true surprise the cause.

Click to shrink...

Why repetition?

 

[USSExplorer]

Why repetition?

Click to shrink...

A mistake that carried over from redrafting the chapter. Cleared up now.

if she's warning him, then there needs to be something wrong with his approach to warn someone of. Maybe he badgers people, maybe he often words things badly, maybe he's TOO interested and it comes off as prying and a little combative. But as is... she's just warning him without any warning? I read the section, but this part is still in need of a minor edit.

Click to shrink...

It's how clean/precise his work is that has drawn the attention, and thus the warning. Which is paid off in the scene with Holmberg later on.
Still, added a little but at the end as the lead into the "What kind of questions?" bit wasn't there.

Pity. I know it'd be hard to write, but I'd be interesting.

Click to shrink...

Aye, it likely would be. As for hard to write, havting Marcus around Salarians is going to be a nightmare.

 

[Tanaxanth]

Not quite how it's gonna work out.
Check out the timeline for ME and see what happens in 2147.
Or just wait for the next chapter

Click to shrink...

Yeah I know timeline is wrong, but him waking up from a dream where that sound is heard...

 

[USSExplorer]

0014: Element Zero
…​

I woke up with a start, sweating profusely again. Another nightmare, though this one added images that went beyond merely tormenting me with words. They were still there, but what else I remembered caused my blood to run cold.

Starships that looked like giant squid, ranging in size though I had no way to scale them, sat in the dark of space, waiting and watching. Thousands, if not tens of thousands, of them just sitting there, so still it was as if they were dead. But then they moved.

They surged into the galaxy, engaging and slicing through ships of various sizes, designs, and styles. Some of those vessels bore English on their hulls; others bore alien characters I didn't know, yet even those hull shapes felt familiar.

Eventually, the disparate vessels of the galaxy began to unite against the giant squids, but even then, it was of little use. The squids were larger and more powerful; they tore through the defenders as easily as a hot knife through butter. They landed on planets and decimated entire populations without remorse.

I watched as they landed on Earth: London, New York, Beijing, and most painfully, Edinburgh. The cities were razed and the defenders killed; or worse, altered to serve the squids as abominations, raging corpses with no free will and no care for casualties.

And then, once Earth and the other worlds fell lifeless, once the mechanical titans had burned every vestige of life from the galaxy, they retreated, their numbers greater than before. And then, back in the depths of space between galaxies, they fell silent, waiting again, for another cycle to begin.

My hand moved shakily towards the cup of water at my bedside. If not for the words I'd had assaulting my mind over the last year or so, I'd never have realised there was a cycle to this process.

The water jostled as I moved the cup unsteadily towards my parched lips. My heart was racing in a way it never had before. Not even when I'd feared discovery of my enhancements that went far beyond those of any other human. That fear had been centred on myself and on my loss of freedom and agency; this nightmare showed everyone, everything, being exterminated ruthlessly.

The water soothed my lips and tickled my throat as I tried to understand what the nightmare meant. It was connected to Mars; I was as certain of that as I could be, but how and why remained elusive, as did why everything I'd just seen felt familiar.

There had been no such invasion and annihilation in my former life, so that shouldn't have been the source. Yet the more I considered it, the more likely it seemed that it was. A paradox wrapped in a quandary that circled a black hole.

What I'd seen… it might be the future. If it was, how in the hell was I meant to prevent it? How was I meant to stand against such an ancient, numerous, unstoppable horde that rested in a place no sane person would ever look for danger?

The smart-glass display near my bed blinked, reacting to my movement. The blue light it emitted was another tag to the nightmares, though, again, I didn't know why or how.

A weary, humourless chuckle slipped from me. It was all tied to Mars: the God of War. Those nightmares, if true, showed something more than mere war. They showed devastation and suffering on levels that my mind could scarcely comprehend.

I shifted under my sheets, knowing that sleep would evade me for the rest of the night. Even if I needed to, I dared not close my eyes and subject myself to that terror once more. Tonight, when I tried to sleep again, I could only hope that the nightmare didn't return. I might only need four hours a night, but if this chaos assaulted my mind, even that would elude me.

***

​

In the end, I'd decided to head out for an early jog. The streets around me were silent, save for the very few who awoke so early to prepare for the new day. Yet, even as I returned to my flat an hour later, my mind wasn't at ease; the nightmares refused to slip away. They grasped and pulled at the edges of my thoughts, shaping everything that passed through my mind.

A cold shower failed to dislodge them, nor did looking at the dozen papers I had that, bar running them through VI systems to confirm the findings, were ready for publication. None were groundbreaking, but each advanced on some sector of my first five papers in subtle but important ways.

The knowledge they hinted at was important, but I couldn't focus on it. Not when the images of the devastation the giant squid-like monstrosities had brought never left my thoughts.

Reading stories on various mundane matters, random shows and reports on matters around the world, even novels that I'd both read and never opened before subjects, watching random shows and reports from around the world, even opening novels I'd read a dozen times, and others I'd never touched—all of it failed to hold my attention. Nor did subjects that had never caught my interest at any point before. From economics to political studies, from historical anomalies to random gossip about celebrities. None of it kept my focus for more than a few minutes.

***

​

By seven, a new form of distraction began to arrive. It was my birthday, a fact that had slipped my mind because of the nightmare, and well-wishes beeped into my inbox one after the other.

Marcus,
Happy birthday. Seventeen feels impossible: I can still remember you at fifteen, walking into my seminar and rewriting propulsion theory on the whiteboard.
Your latest papers are exceptional. JPP accepted the spacecraft paper, by the way. Reference reports were glowing. One called it "the most significant advancement in mission architecture in a decade."
I hope you're taking care of yourself. The Hague is wonderful, but don't forget to live occasionally. You're seventeen, not seventy.
With pride and affection,-Aisling

Happy birthday, mate.
Edinburgh feels quieter without you here. Lars keeps asking if I've heard from you. I tell him yes, but don't provide details; figured you'd appreciate the discretion.
The project we made is holding perfectly. The VIs have no clue how to handle it, never mind open it.
Still doing AI safety research. Still thinking about what you said—that the thing we can't control isn't artificial intelligence. You were right.
Stay safe. Stay in touch.
-D

HAPPY BIRTHDAY!
Seventeen! Mental. You're still younger than everyone but already smarter than all of us combined.
Things at Edinburgh are good. Biology is fascinating. Evolutionary theory is making me rethink everything about human development. Makes me think about you, actually. What makes someone like you possible? Genetics? Environment? That and more?
I know it's not your field, but I'd love to pick your brain about it, if you ever have time.
Tell me you're going out and having fun? Let me know when you finally become a man, alright? Dutch girls are easy, trust me!
Anyway, have a good one. Don't work too hard. (Who am I kidding? You'll work exactly as hard as you want.)
-Lars

Happy birthday. Seventeen suits you. One year closer to the age you've always acted.
Barcelona is wonderful. The PhD programme is challenging but rewarding. Propulsion applications turn out to be exactly where I want to focus my career. So thank you for that inspiration.
I saw your latest paper, the mass manipulation foundations. Brilliant work.
Stay well. Remember what I said. You don't have to be alone just because you can't be fully close to anyone.
-Elena

Happy birthday, son. Seventeen years old, Master's degree, published researcher, living independently in another country. Your accomplishments continue to amaze. I transferred some additional funds to your account last week. Use them for something other than research equipment. Take yourself out for a proper dinner. Call when you can.
-Dad

Happy birthday, love. Seventeen. I can't believe how fast time passes. Your father and I are so proud of you, even if we don't always understand what you're doing. We love you. Come home for Christmas if you can.
-Mum

Happy birthday, little brother (who's not so little anymore). Stop being so brilliant. It's making the rest of us look bad. Second year at Robert Gordon is going well, in case you were wondering. Which you probably weren't, because you're too busy revolutionising physics or whatever. Love you anyway.
-K

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, MARCUS! You're 17! That's so old! Are you still working on Mars stuff? They keep saying there's going to be a big announcement soon. Do you know about it? Can you tell me? Please? Also, Mum says I have to ask when you're coming home. So: when are you coming home?
-Cal

I replied to each message in turn, tailoring my responses to what each of them had written. The trivial, mundane action of reading and replying offered, for a short while, the illusion of normality and civility that I needed. A distraction from the chaos of my thoughts and the nightmare that wouldn't let go.

I found myself missing everyone who had sent me a message, even the ones from people I barely knew, such as Dr Reeves and Dr Ashford at Cord-Hislop, or Dr Bergmann at ESA. Any connection to the real world granted a fleeting hope that the images rampaging through my mind would end.

After sending the replies, I closed the terminal and moved to the kitchen, my stomach demanding attention. The one upside I had was that today was Saturday, and thus I had no reason to head into the Institute. Yet, as I ate my breakfast slowly, I wondered if the solitude would only cause the nightmare to fester and sink deeper into my consciousness until it influenced everything I thought about.

My eyes danced over the places where the various trackers in my flat were hidden. I hadn't removed any, as that would alert whoever placed them. What I had done was access their systems, install backdoors, and quietly feed the trackers false readings. I couldn't hide the flat's power consumption, but I worked around that, ensuring the false reports aligned closely with my true actions.

Those monitoring me would know I'd woken early and never gone back to sleep. They'd know I was unsettled but not why. That, oddly, was useful. A little chink in the otherwise controlled existence I lived would imply I wasn't anything more than human. I'd let them see me flustered, using the nightmare to convince them that I was merely gifted mentally and nothing more.

Thinking about such things, much like the cheese on toast I was having for breakfast, only distracted me for a few moments at a time. My thoughts always returned to the nightmares and what they showed. I wanted to know what it meant, yet I didn't want to learn.

The terror at what the ancient machines represented… I couldn't accept it. Not now, and I hoped, not ever.

My gaze drifted, finding Mars as it hung on the display with Promethei Planum marked. The image slowly rotated in time with how the planet faced Earth. Whatever was there continued to stir my thoughts and awaken something deep in my mind. Something now linked to the nightmares, though I silently prayed that this time, and unlike with everything else in my life so far, I was wrong.

***

​

Midday found me lounging on my sofa. An attempt to snooze had failed; my mind was clinging to the nightmares that had ruined my night and morning. I wasn't tired—that never happened easily—but I couldn't do anything, nor did I have any reason to go anywhere.

I could predict the trackers' reports and had accessed them to partially hide the truth. What I couldn't control or remove were things outside my home or the Institute. Even with my perfect recall, spotting those who didn't belong against the backdrop of a living, breathing city was next to impossible.

Still, I memorised the face of everyone I passed, looking for anything that seemed abnormal. Nothing had stood out so far, but in an age where every street had security cameras, tracking me, or anyone else, would be child's play.

All of that meant I could do little more than watch and wait. Such inaction was unsettling, particularly on a day like today–

My datapad chimed. Seeing the caller, I accepted instantly, and Callum's face exploded onto the screen as he vibrated with excitement.

"MARCUS! Turn on the telly! Now!"

I shifted on the sofa. "Cal, slow down. What's–"

"Just turn it on! BBC, FNN, Westerlund, anywhere! They're making an announcement! About Mars!"

The call ended abruptly, making clear that Callum's excitement had overridden his patience.

I stared at the empty screen for half a second, then activated the wall display.

My fingers felt clumsy on the controls, though they never had been before. Another sign of how the nightmare was affecting me. Even as the station appeared, I caught excited voices coming from outside. Whatever was being revealed, it seemed most people were being drawn in.

As I sat up on the sofa, I wondered if I'd get the answers I'd been waiting for, and found myself half-hoping I wouldn't because of the nightmare.

The display showed a press conference already in progress with multiple space agency logos filling the backdrop: ESA, NASA, CNSA, ISRO, JAXA, Roscosmos, and others. So many agencies gathered for a single joint conference was unprecedented. The six major players had never shared a single podium before.

The conference room was packed with journalists, scientists, and officials; the energy was palpable even through the screen. Callum had said this was about Mars, and whatever it was, it was monumental. Enough to force the various agencies to set aside political tensions and rivalries to speak as one voice.

I recognised a few faces on the stage: Dr Henrik Lindqvist, the Director General of ESA; Dr Patricia Chen from NASA; and Dr Yuki Tanaka from JAXA. Military and political figures sat among them as well, which only increased the significance of the moment.

"Good morning," Dr Lindqvist began, stepping forward first, his voice heavier than I'd ever heard it. "And thank you for joining us. What we are about to announce will fundamentally alter humanity's understanding of physics, of our place in the solar system, and of what is possible."

"For the past three years, multiple space agencies have been investigating anomalies at Promethei Planum on Mars. These investigations have accelerated significantly in recent months as our understanding of what is happening and what is there has deepened."

Ever since Mars's anomalies had first been reported, I'd been waiting for answers. The pull towards the red planet had only grown stronger as the clocks ticked forward, and now it was tugging at me so painfully that I found it hard to fully focus on the display.

Dr Lindqvist paused, and for a fleeting moment, I saw the worry in his eyes. A worry that only magnified my concerns.

"We can now confirm that the anomalies are being caused by a previously unknown element. One that does not appear in Earth's periodic table. Based on our observations, this element appears to violate many of the established laws of physics as we understand them."

My hand tightened around the control as if seeking something to ground me. The mention of the new element brought a ripple of excitement from those in the audience and outside my flat. For me, it brought forth the nightmares.

I was certain, without proof, that no one else would be experiencing this. As my datapad buzzed, no doubt with messages from friends and family, I felt a memory I'd long forgotten slowly reveal itself.

Dr Chen stepped forward, continuing the presentation. "Over the past six months," she said, her voice carrying the measured precision of someone who had rehearsed these words a hundred times, "spectroscopic analysis from orbital platforms has identified a unique energy signature emanating from the structures beneath Promethei Planum. This signature corresponds to an element with properties unlike anything in known science."

At her gesture, a holographic molecular structure bloomed above the podium. Everyone in the room seemed to still, staring at the slowly rotating model. I couldn't see their faces, but I could hear the awe: faint murmurs carried through the broadcast to my living room. I was silent too, but not from shock. No, from the memory door that was slowly widening in the depths of my thoughts.

My body tensed, every muscle clenching as one in panic, and my heart began to race.

"This element interacts with mass in ways we don't yet fully understand. It appears to create fields that can alter the effective mass of objects within its influence. Not through gravitational effects, but through a mechanism entirely novel to physics."

Mass. Element. Relay.

New words in my head, echoing out from behind that slowly creaking open door. More pieces of a puzzle that was slowly coming into focus in my mind.

She continued, her voice gaining strength as she moved into technical territory. "Preliminary analysis suggests that when subjected to electrical current, this element can either increase or decrease the mass of objects within its field. The implications for propulsion, for construction, for virtually every aspect of physics and engineering, are staggering."

They were. Mass manipulation and field effects. That was exactly what I'd proposed in one of my papers: the one so theoretical that the science to support it didn't yet exist. Except now, it was as if some cosmic entity had played a great joke at my expense, preparing me for this moment without me ever realising it.

There would be questions asked about that paper. From those at the Institute, ESA, my friends, and around the world. Somehow, by only a few months, I had predicted something that simply shouldn't have been possible, and I'd done it without the data to know where events were moving.

None of that mattered to me now. Only one thing did: the fear, primal and instinctual, that had clamped around my heart like a vice.

"This discovery has come alongside the revelation that this new element is connected to structures that are, based on the carbon dating from the area, tens of thousands of years old."

My datapad buzzed again. My finger must've moved as the call connected.

"Marcus! Marcus, are you seeing this?" my brother called out. "They found aliens!" His voice crackled with pure twelve-year-old excitement. "Real actual aliens!"

I didn't respond. I couldn't. The door in my mind was opening further, bathing my thoughts in the trickle of knowledge that had been locked away until today.

I heard Dr Tanaka take over. "The structures containing this element are clearly artificial. Constructed, not natural formations. The architecture suggests a civilisation far more advanced than our own. The implications–"

He stopped, as if composing himself, or granting those listening time to prepare. Whichever it was, I didn't care because the words were echoing in my head like klaxons going off without end.

Prothean. Archive. Warning. Cycle.

"The implications are profound. We are not alone. We have never been alone."

The room erupted. I caught the flashes of light as cameras and drones snapped images of this moment. Voices filled the air as the journalists began peppering the assembled figures with questions. There was no doubt that many had risen to their feet to shout out, while others sat frozen, struggling to absorb the news just given to the world.

As for me, I sat silently, hands against my head as the words grew louder and more painful.

Prothean. Archive. Warning. Cycle.

They pulsed with unavoidable, undeniable strength. The door still wasn't fully open, but it was close.

"Marcus?" Callum's voice came distant through the datapad. "Marcus, you've gone quiet. Are you okay? This is amazing! They foun–"

His voice disappeared.

My datapad pinged almost nonstop as everyone messaged or called me. They'd want to know, to understand how I'd predicted this.

I couldn't focus on that. The words, the pounding, the opening door in my mind never gave me the chance.

Needing something to focus on, I looked at the screen, locking my gaze on Dr Lindqvist as he stepped forward once again, a hand raised in a call for order. The chaos in the hall subsided reluctantly, and what was in my mind remained strong and unyielding.

"After extensive consultation among the international scientific community, we have designated this element. Based on its unique position, outside our existing periodic table, representing a zero point for a new category of matter, we have chosen its name."

I blinked, looking up at the screen from the floor. When had I fallen? Why?

Prothean. Archive. Warning. Cycle. Beacon. Cache. Fifty thousand years.

The words were merging, joining together as the mystery was finally, painfully revealed.

"Today, we officially have a name for what is causing the anomalies on Mars. A new element that defies all the known laws of physics."

The door exploded, the last fragments holding back the flood swept away by it.

Reapers.

A new word, though one that came with a warning.

They are stirring.

"We are calling it Element Zero."

---***---

​

 

[Stormbringer117]

 

[USSExplorer]

Click to shrink...

Next chapter...

Because yeah, who wouldn't have a nervous breakdown knowing that your future involved the Reapers

 

[Skirata567]

Next chapter...

Because yeah, who wouldn't have a nervous breakdown knowing that your future involved the Reapers

Click to shrink...

Oooooooooooooooooooooohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh....................... That's not good, not good at all....... Marcus is best hope to stopping Reapers........
I only hope that phase won't last longer than week.

 

[USSExplorer]

I only hope that phase won't last longer than week.

Click to shrink...

I'll be honest. In the original that I have prepared, it lasted a while. After comments/suggestions about the first ~10 chapters, I toned it down. Lasts 1-2 chapters as a major issue now, though still present in the background for a while. (which only makes sense. Who'd be able to forget about what's coming in that situation?)

 

[abominable]

Starships that looked like giant squid, ranging in size though I had no way to scale them, sat in the dark of space, waiting and watching. Thousands, if not tens of thousands, of them just sitting there, so still it was as if they were dead. But then they moved.

Click to shrink...

He woke up sweaty? Wet?

A young man having wet dreams about tentacled creatures is uncommon, but not unheard of.

He's simply going through puberty.

 

[USSExplorer]

He woke up sweaty? Wet?

A young man having wet dreams about tentacled creatures is uncommon, but not unheard of.

Click to shrink...

Sweaty because it was a nightmare, not because he was turned on...

I suppose I should expect that sort of reasoning in this site, lol

And if he's gonna have dreams about tentacles, it's more likely to be squid-heads (Asari)

 

[Skirata567]

And if he's gonna have dreams about tentacles, it's more likely to be squid-heads (Asari)

Click to shrink...

......... Asari would love to add his unique mind to Asari race via one or several children.......
If I remember correctly Asari mate with other races for desirable trait's........His mind and/or intelligence would be potent aphrodisiac for them.

 

[USSExplorer]

I'm reasonably sure that Asari "mating" involves sharing minds. So the chances that Marcus would ever do that with any random Asari are... slim.
Maidens would think he was mad about the Reapers/the galaxy being a game, and a Matriarch risks being someone who knows about Vigil, which if discovered in Marcus' mind....

Doesn't mean it can't happen, just that he'll have to be very, very cautious about it.