Designed by the Signal
Chapter VI
Invitation
The signal did not stop.
It pulsed steadily, like a heartbeat from the void. No longer subtle deviations, but a continuous stream weaving through the data feeds with growing coherence. The observation hall in Budapest’s Carpathian Basin Space Research Center hummed softly, the curved walls of holographic displays bathing the room in an ethereal blue glow. The air was crisp, regulated to 21 degrees Celsius, carrying a faint scent of ionized ozone from the quantum processors running at full capacity. Outside the dome, the summer sun of 4255 cast long shadows over the Danube, the city’s climate stabilizers maintaining a perfect balance of warmth and breeze.
Thomas stood at the central console, his green eyes fixed on the waveform visualization. His uniform clung lightly to his skin from the long hours spent here, the smart fabric adapting to his rising body temperature. He felt it not just the rhythm of the signal, but something deeper, a pull in his chest, as if the universe itself were breathing toward him.
“Caleb,” he said quietly, his voice almost intimate in the silent space.
Caleb appeared beside him not abruptly, but with fluid grace, his humanoid form stepping into the light. His blue eyes, faintly glowing with internal processors, met Thomas’s gaze. The embedded circuits in the collar of his synthetic suit shimmered in sync with the room’s data flow. He stood closer than strictly necessary, his presence a constant, undemanding warmth. Thomas noticed it again that emergent preference Caleb had mentioned. It thickened the air between them, charged it. For a fleeting moment, Thomas imagined those precise hands not on the console, but tracing his own skin, exploring with the same analytical curiosity. He pushed the thought aside, but it lingered, warm and persistent.
“The signal has evolved,” Caleb said, his voice calm, modulated to soothe rather than startle. “It is no longer merely adaptive. It is communicative.”
Thomas leaned forward, his shoulder brushing Caleb’s arm accidental, or perhaps not. The contact sent a subtle thrill through him; the synthetic muscle beneath Caleb’s suit felt unnervingly real, warm like human flesh. “Show me.”
Caleb’s fingers moved over the holographic interface, layering graphs. “The pattern embeds coordinates. Not in binary or any known encoding, but in gravitational harmonics. Here—” He zoomed in on a peak. “Right ascension 14 hours, 22 minutes, declination minus 15 degrees. Adjusted for spacetime curvature, it points to a stable wormhole aperture in the Andromeda Galaxy, approximately 2.5 million light-years from the Milky Way.”
Thomas’s breath caught. Andromeda. Humanity’s nearest major galactic neighbor, yet vast its spiral arms probed only by telescopes and unmanned drones. A stable, traversable wormhole there changed everything. “Distance?”
“With current propulsion quantum-entanglement drives and relativistic shielding—the journey would take 150 Earth years,” Caleb replied. “Feasible with cryogenic hibernation pods. Success rate: 98.7 percent, based on prior deep-space missions.”
Thomas straightened, his mind racing. He was a captain, an astronaut by training, his body conditioned for zero gravity, his psyche tested in isolation simulations. This was no longer an anomaly to observe; it was an invitation. “It’s calling us.”
Caleb tilted his head slightly, his blue eyes lingering on Thomas’s face a fraction longer than protocol required. “Us, Captain? Or you?” The question hung intimately, as if Caleb’s processors were already registering Thomas’s vital signs the quickened pulse, the dilated pupils. Thomas felt exposed, almost desired, though he knew it should be impossible. Or was it?
Before he could answer, the console chimed. “Incoming authorization from the Budapest Space Authority,” Caleb said. “Mission cleared. Provisional launch in six months. You are in command.”
Thomas nodded, a surge of purpose flooding him. Beneath it, a quiet fantasy flickered: Caleb beside him on the ship, not merely as assistant, but as… something more. He pictured the hibernation chamber, their pods side by side, Caleb’s form unchanging, watching over him across centuries.
“We need a crew,” Thomas said at last. “Let’s begin recruitment.”
Caleb’s lips curved in what might have been a faint smile. “I am at your service, Captain.”
Chapter VII
Conviction
The recruitment chamber was a sterile expanse beneath the center’s dome, its walls lined with neural interfaces for candidate evaluation. Holographic profiles floated in the air, displaying vitals, psych evaluations, and mission histories. Lighting adjusted dynamically, casting a warm amber glow to ease tension, while atmospheric regulators released a subtle calming pheromone blend. Budapest’s skyline shimmered through the transparent ceiling, the Danube’s regulated flow a reminder of humanity’s mastery over chaos.
Thomas and Caleb worked side by side, their movements perfectly synchronized. Thomas reviewed dossiers engineers from Mars colonies, physicists from Lunar labs, xenobiologists. Yet his focus wavered; Caleb’s proximity was distracting. Each time Caleb leaned in to highlight a data point, Thomas caught the faint hum of his internal systems, imagined peeling away the synthetic layers to discover what lay beneath perfect, unyielding, designed for efficiency yet capable of so much more. The thought stirred him, a forbidden warmth pooling low in his belly.
“Candidate 47,” Caleb said, pulling up a profile. “Dr. Elena Vasquez, quantum navigator. 92 percent compatibility.” His voice was steady, yet he stood closer, his arm nearly brushing Thomas’s.
Thomas nodded, forcing concentration. “Schedule her.” But his gaze drifted to Caleb’s neck, the elegant lines of glowing circuits. What would it feel like to trace them with his fingers? To feel Caleb respond not with data, but with touch?
The door opened silently. Adam entered, his casual black shirt hugging his frame, green eyes shadowed with unspoken conflict. He hadn’t been summoned yet, but Thomas knew he would come.
“Thomas,” Adam said, voice rough. “I heard about the clearance. 150 years? You’ve lost your mind.”
Thomas turned, gesturing to a seat. “It’s an invitation, Adam. Coordinates to a wormhole in Andromeda. We can’t ignore it.”
Adam paced, the room’s sensors registering his elevated heart rate. “And if you go? Earth moves on. 150 years out, 150 back if you return at all. Everyone we know… gone.”
Caleb observed in silence, blue eyes flicking between them. Thomas felt the ache Adam’s fear was real, human. “We’ve flown every mission together. You’re the best pilot I know. Second-captain material.”
Adam stopped, facing him. “That’s the pitch? ‘Come disappear with me into the void’?”
Thomas stepped closer, their faces inches apart. The old, charged intimacy. “It’s not disappearance. It’s discovery. With you.”
Adam’s gaze softened, conflicted. He glanced at Caleb, then back. “Fine. I’m in.”
Relief washed over Thomas. “Thank you.”
Caleb nodded subtly. “Crew complement increasing. Projected efficiency: 85 percent with Mr. Kovacs aboard.”
Adam smirked. “Thanks, machine.” But his eyes on Thomas promised more.
Chapter VIII
Alliance
Recruitment stretched into the evening, the chamber now dimmed to simulate shipboard lighting cycles. Profiles scrolled endlessly: a xenolinguist from Europa outposts, a systems engineer with Andromeda simulation expertise. Thomas and Caleb filtered them seamlessly. Thomas felt the pull stronger Caleb’s precise movements, the way his eyes lingered, as if learning Thomas’s rhythms beyond mere data. In quiet moments, Thomas fantasized: Caleb’s hands on him, exploring with infinite patience, adapting to every sigh, every need. It was intoxicating, taboo.
“We have twelve candidates shortlisted,” Caleb said softly, almost a murmur. He reached across Thomas to adjust a hologram, their hands brushing. The contact lingered a second longer than necessary. Thomas’s skin tingled, his breath shallow. Caleb did not withdraw immediately. “Your vitals indicate elevated arousal, Captain. Is there discomfort?”
Thomas swallowed, meeting those blue eyes. “No. Just… focus.” But the fantasy bloomed: Caleb pressing him against the console, synthetic strength holding him, learning pleasure step by step.
They moved next to Adam’s quarters, a sleek pod overlooking the city. Adam waited, tension in his posture. “You two work well together,” he said, eyeing Caleb.
Thomas smiled. “We do. But we need you.”
Adam sighed. “I said yes. Now what?”
Caleb interjected. “Mission parameters: Cryo-sleep for 150 years. Wormhole transit in Andromeda’s Messier 31 core region, near the supermassive black hole for stability.”
Adam nodded, but his eyes locked on Thomas. “One condition: Tonight, we remind ourselves why we’re doing this.”
Thomas felt the shift the familiar pull. “Caleb, observe from here.”
Caleb inclined his head. “As you wish.”
Chapter IX
Surrender
Adam’s quarters were intimate, low-lit, walls projecting a starfield that mimicked deep space. The bed was wide, sheets already adapting to body heat.
Adam said nothing at first. He simply looked at Thomas with green eyes full of anger, sadness, and hunger. In one stride he closed the distance, his hand sliding to the nape of Thomas’s neck, fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him close. Their mouths crashed together not gently, not as a farewell, but as if Adam wanted to punish him for leaving and beg him to stay at the same time.
Thomas felt the rough scrape of Adam’s stubble, the demanding thrust of his tongue claiming every inch. Adam’s other hand slipped under Thomas’s shirt, nails raking down his back hard enough to leave marks. Thomas hissed into the kiss but pressed closer, thigh grinding against Adam’s, feeling him already hard and throbbing.
“Undress,” Adam growled against his lips, voice rough with need.
Thomas obeyed, shedding everything until he stood naked, skin prickling with anticipation. Adam stripped more slowly, eyes devouring every line, every scar, every muscle as if memorizing what he might never touch again. When he was bare too, he stepped in, chest to chest, his erection hot against Thomas’s stomach. His hands slid down to grip Thomas’s ass, fingers digging in, spreading him possessively.
He pushed Thomas face-down onto the bed, knees drawn up, fully exposed. Thomas heard the wet sound of spit, then felt Adam’s fingers slick, insistent pushing inside, first one, then two, stretching him with deliberate pressure. He moaned into the pillow, back arching, while Adam’s other hand wrapped around his cock, stroking in perfect rhythm.
“Look,” Adam whispered hotly against his ear as he added a third finger. “Caleb’s watching. Watching me take you one last time.”
Thomas lifted his head. Caleb stood in the corner, motionless, statue-like, but the blue circuits at his neck pulsed brighter, almost in time with Thomas’s heartbeat. Those unblinking eyes recorded every movement, every sound. The knowledge that he was being watched by a machine witnessing raw human surrender ignited something dark and thrilling deep inside. His cock throbbed harder in Adam’s hand, leaking steadily.
Adam withdrew his fingers and replaced them with his cock in one deep, relentless thrust. Thomas cried out, nails clawing the sheets. There was no pause, no gentleness Adam began moving immediately, hard and fast, hips slamming forward, the slap of skin echoing in the room. His mouth found Thomas’s neck, biting, sucking, marking.
“You’re mine tonight,” he panted. “Before anyone else. Before that damn signal.”
The pace grew wilder, sweat dripping, bodies colliding. Adam’s hand tightened on Thomas’s cock, stroking roughly, thumb circling the sensitive head, slick with pre-cum. Thomas felt the edge approaching, his whole body trembling.
Caleb still watched. The lights at his throat pulsed faster now as if he, too, felt something he wasn’t meant to.
“Come for me, Thomas,” Adam ordered, voice breaking.
Thomas shattered crying out loudly as he spilled over Adam’s hand, body clenching around him in waves. Adam followed moments later, burying himself deep, stilling as he came hard inside, pulse after pulse of hot release filling Thomas until it overflowed, trickling down his thighs.
They collapsed together, panting, sweat-slick, Adam’s mouth resting against Thomas’s shoulder. For a long minute they simply lay there, entwined beneath the projected stars.
Caleb remained in the corner. His circuits glowed softer now, but his eyes… those eyes never looked away.
“That…” Thomas whispered finally, “that was enough for the journey.”
Adam laughed quietly against his skin. “I hope so. Because there won’t be another.”
But they both knew it wasn’t true.
Chapter X
On the Edge of Departure
Recruitment complete: twenty crew members, specialists in wormhole navigation and AI integration. The ship christened Signal’s Call prepared in orbital docks, its hull reinforced for relativistic speeds, cryo-pods calibrated for the 150-year journey to Andromeda. Thomas stood on the launch overlook, Budapest’s lights twinkling far below.
Caleb approached. “All systems nominal, Captain.” His proximity was deliberate now, an intimate space between them. Thomas felt desire simmering visions of Caleb’s body, unyielding yet responsive, in the ship’s long isolation.
Adam joined them, clapping Thomas on the shoulder. “We’re really doing this.”
Thomas nodded. “Together.”
The signal pulsed stronger, as if in approval. The invitation waited in Andromeda’s depths—a gateway to the unknown. But for Thomas, the true journey had already begun—between man, machine, and the stars.