Beyond contact

by BRK   

The trick to contacting aliens turns out to be sending only your mind. What you look like when you get there, though, isn’t quite what you’re used to.

The decoded alien message had been on the internet for months. Scientists had gleaned it from intercepted transmissions gathered by SETI-affiliated radio-telescopes. The entire world could talk of nothing else. Of course a lot of people thought it was a hoax, or gibberish—background radiation that only seemed to have a pattern; still even they couldn't shut up about it. But what really amazed everybody was that scientists could not make head not tail of it even after a year of study. Some said they'd leaked it to the internet in hopes of some savant somewhere seeing what they couldn't see.

Which I guess would be me. I'd been studying infrared spectroscopy data as paryt of my heavy-duty post-doctoral work at MIT. One day, just for fun, I overlaid the data from the alien's message with the Earth's infrared signature, as seen from the quadrant the message had come from. Amazingly, the message started to make sense! Though it was still garbled, it was clearly less garbled.

Over ensuing weeks I fine-tuned the infrared signature, keying it to narrower and narrower sections of the sky—since each place in the universe would see Earth slightly differently, each section of the sky meant a slightly different IR signature. Then after seven weeks' work it had it. Not only did I know the message—I knew exactly where it came from!

The message was plans for a device which would project the a person from our world to theirs. The actual matter of the body wasn't sent, but projected through some extradimensional layer of space, the same way light from a movie is projected through the air, onto a screen.

Well, I didn't have a billion dollars to build the ting, so I turned it over to the government after I got their agreement that I would be the first one to go. And of course I held back one component of the plan—an item I could build, an IR spectrographier. Their plans had a blank in that spot and wouldn't work without it.

It took forever to build it. Lots of secret hearings, threats, overruns, disasters. But the day did finally come when I stood in the circular control chamber, feeling the anxiety and jealousy of the hundreds of techies ringed around me. I listened to the countdown, engaged the secondary circuits, and when the countdown got to zero I pressed the big green button.

Everything vanished. Including me. There was nothing but my mind and the desolate empty wastes of eternity.

Gradually, like someone focusing after encountering a blinding light, I discerned a pinprick in the distance. It grew and became a world—a world that looked a lot like Earth.

Within the space of a thought I was there, on the planet.

I was standing in a small room that seemed filled with mirrors. All around me were reflections of the person standing in the center of the room, a person I recognized as myself despite how startlingly different I looked.

The reflections I could see corresponded to what I saw and felt when I looked down. It was an amazing body. Though I had no frame of reference I felt tall—my feet, which were half again the size they'd been in the shower this morning, seemed far away. Nonetheless they weren't so far away that I couldn't see that there were three of them, all in a row, two rights and a left, at the ends of long, gymnast-perfect legs. Yet even though I had three legs across I still had a very tight little waist and abs so long it looked like there were two sets, a 12 or 14 pack of endless washboard abs. There was a fine pleasure trail that branched below my lower navel to two groins, on either side of my middle leg. And I could only barely register that hanging each of those groins was a big ballsack and two long, thick, heavy cocks. I reached for those cocks amost involuntarily—they wouldn't be real unless I touched them—and only then noticed that I had four very big hands.

I was built like a brick outhouse—big heavy pecs, impressive biceps and tris too on all four arms. But nothing was too big. It was all exactly the right proportions, somehow, and I felt oddly pleased at this strange new body I'd appeared in.

Obviously I'd been projected in this form in order to meet the aliens in a form they were familiar with. I felt a warm thrill at the realization I would soon be meeting aliens who looked like my own private wet dreams.

But what was with all the reflections? I looked up from my self-inspection and realized they weren't reflections—they were other mes!

There were dozens of them, clustered around me. They all looked damn good, and I felt distressing stirrings in my four oversized cocks.

They smiled, and the one nearest me said (in my voice): “Don't worry. Your reactions are natural and nothing to be ashamed of.”

Another approached me and said, “We communicate with other worlds in a way you would call sensual. It builds a bridge of physical and emotional trust between our worlds.”

By the time he'd finished speaking the five nearest clones of my amazing new body had clustered around me, and we floated into a pocket of time that was saturated with pleasure and, what was more amazing, a deep sense of communion with these souls that I looked like, or that looked like me. Every endless kiss communicated the feelings of an entire people, and as we intertwined and penetrated each other, our adamantine multiple cocks finding unexpected paths deep inside our blazing hot insides, we literally made love between our worlds.

The pocket of time came to a natural end, and we were all sated and flushed with pleasure and emotion. I found there was little I had to speak, for we understood each other. There was only one thing I had to say, and that was to thank them for allowing me to experience their amazing form.

The “me” whose chest my head was resting on laughed. “We are not in this form. We have come to you in your form!”

I was perplexed. “This is not my form.”

The other “me” said, “It is here.”

Another me, who was gently nuzzling my long abs, said softly, “Since it is the mind that is projected, not the body, how you appear in this place is how you truly are inside.”

And I knew he was right. This was the body I wanted, both to have—and to hold.

I closed my eyes. “Then may I never leave.”

“That we cannot do. But we can do this,” said the first clone. “When you return, this form will be fixed in your mind. You will be able to return to it at will.”

I sat up. “Really??”

All the clones grinned at me, and said together, “Really!”

It was a sad parting, but I kissed them all and promised to return soon. I felt my mind draining back into nothingness….

I went through endless hours of debriefing by the government, the scientists, the pentagon, the media—everyone. It was sixteen hours after leaving the control module before I got home. I was so exhausted I could barely pull off my clothes. I plummeted into my bed and fell instantly asleep.

I woke up only once in the middle of the night. I had time to notice I was overflowing the bed, so that my three big feet were dangling off the end—they'd gotten cold, I guess, and that's what woke me up. I rolled over and realized there was someone else in my bed. No, it wasn't someone else—it was another me, again! I stared into his eyes, and he into mine, and we knew we were one—this wasn't a clone but a second bod, both controlled by my mind.

I cuddled my two awesome bodies together, intertwining six long legs and eight long arms, and, with a brief kiss and two smiles of simple joy, fell back into a deep, dreamless sleep.

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