Catch of the Day: The Connection

TWO YEARS AGO

Travis was sleeping late as usual. It didn’t matter. There were no clocks in the cabin. No phone, no internet, just a crackling radio. Alex and Travis wanted to be as isolated as possible, even if they could still hear the buzzing of eight billion minds.

It was easier from a distance. They’d grown up in a small town, just three hundred people, mostly farmers. Their Dad had run the drugstore until he died, and their Mom was retired, just sitting at home and watching reruns of Jeopardy.

Alex had driven home after his first week at college in Chicago. Too many minds, too close, too busy. Travis was glad to have him back home – he’d never liked the city anyhow.

One drunken night at the bar Alex had bumped into his friend Chuck, home for Christmas. How did Chuck handle all those voices in his head, Alex asked. Chuck met his gaze with a questioning look.

Careful questions around town didn’t help. Nobody else seemed to hear the voices. The constant buzz from friends and family and the occasional car driving by on the highway. Maybe their Dad would have known, but he was gone, his body buried at the family cemetery.

They learned not to talk about it.

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Alex was 22 the first time he made a change.

He was with his boyfriend, fooling around in bed. Alex had been surprised to find a boyfriend. At first it had just been flirting – Greg would come into the drugstore to buy condoms or shampoo or razor blades, and Alex would grin like an idiot the whole time. The other man was thoughtful and funny and cute as hell – too bad he was dating a woman.

But pretty soon Greg was starting to flirt back. Playful looks and the occasional double entendre. He would reach out and squeeze Alex on the shoulder, then bashfully pull away. Until one day he didn’t.

They’d been a couple ever since. Three whole months of domestic bliss.

Alex had gone down on Greg, sucking his cock for the hundredth time, and a stray thought crossed his mind. Greg’s cock was beautiful, but it was a little small. Even as he wished Greg’s dick was a little bit bigger Alex felt it swelling in his mouth. He almost gagged on it.

He pulled off and stared. Greg’s cock had to be at least ten inches now.

“Uh... babe... did you feel that?” Alex asked cautiously.

“Huh?” Greg grunted back. “Don’t stop.”

“It’s just... your cock is huge!” Alex said pointedly.

“That’s never bugged you before,” Greg chuckled. He reached down and wrapped his hand around the pole. He didn’t seem to notice that it had doubled in size.

Alex reached out tentatively with his mind and connected to Greg. He didn’t like touching other minds, and he only ever brushed the surface. Greg wasn’t hiding anything – no surprise, no fear. Just primal lust.

So Alex finished the job.

Later that night Alex watched Greg sleep. His boyfriend had curly black hair and a boyish smile. Alex hadn’t been able to stop thinking all night – had his casual wish actually changed Greg’s cock? Or was he just going crazy?

He stared at Greg, focussing all his energy on the man.

“I wish Greg was blond,” Alex whispered.

Greg’s dark hair instantly lightened into sandy blond curls. Alex’s stomach clenched – reading minds, okay... maybe he could live with that. But a stray thought had made Greg’s cock swell beyond belief, and another thought had altered his looks permanently. At least he hadn’t done any harm...

So far.

Alex climbed out of bed and pulled on a pair of jeans. He needed to talk to Travis.

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They found a small plot of land in the mountains, right on the edge of a national park. The occasional car full of tourists at sixty miles an hour, the occasional trip into town for supplies. Other than that, they were blissfully alone.

There was no chance of hurting anyone. They didn’t even have a TV – Alex realized you didn’t need to be close in order to change someone. Once, watching the evening news, he accidentally made the anchor grow a beard on live TV. Any recent picture was good enough.

So they listened to the radio. They read old magazines. They went into town sparingly and ran nursery rhymes through their minds to avoid stray thoughts.

After a year, the brothers thought they were home free. Right up until that morning.

Alex was chopping wood when he felt cold metal against his mind. A new kind of murmur in the background noise.

“Can you feel that?” Travis said, suddenly out of bed and standing on their front porch. He was barefoot and bleary eyes, but he’d come awake instantly when he felt the touch.

“Yeah...” Alex said, glancing around nervously. “What is that?”

“I don’t know.”

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They lived with the feeling for almost two weeks before Travis finally made his decision.

“I think it’s a new kind of life,” he said, cutting into a pork chop. “I mean, if you think about it... we’ve never been sensitive to machines before.”

“Maybe it’s some new spy satellite,” Alex suggested. “Broadcasting on whatever frequency we use. Or a mind control ray? Maybe the government is trying to take over peoples thoughts and that’s why we can hear it.”

“You read too much science fiction,” Travis chuckled, rolling his eyes.

“But you think it’s some new kind of alien?” Alex shot back. “I’m not the one with the sci-fi problem.”

“Not an alien,” Travis laughed. “Just... you remember that article in Popular Mechanics last month? Scientists are working on artificial intelligence. I know it’s supposed to be decades away, but... what if they figured it out?”

“We would have heard that on the news.”

“Maybe they don’t even know yet...” Travis suggested. “I think we heard it wake up. It’s still a baby, they might not even realize what they’ve made yet.”

“What do you wanna do?” Alex grinned. “Drive into town and use the payphone to call every scientist? Hey doc, not sure if you’re working on AI, but you might have hit the jackpot?”

“No,” Travis said seriously. “But I think... I think I can feel it out pretty well. I’m gonna go and see if I can find it. Talk to it. Welcome it into the world. If it’s alive... I think we owe it that.”

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PRESENT DAY

“Would you consider turning the lights back on?” the Director asked.

“No,” Alex said, shaking his head. “No lights. No technology. We’re safer that way.”

“I assure you, we have a fully isolated system,” the Director insisted. “You’re safe in this building. That man you just saw... we lured him here. It was part of a trap to find out how this machine works, to find out if it had any weaknesses.”

“He was turning you into one of them,” Alex said bluntly.

“Yes... well, thank you for that.” the Director smiled. “Just to clarify... you’re Travis’ brother?”

Alex thought for a long second before nodding yes.

“We’re worried about your brother,” the Director said. “Anything you can do to assist in his recovery would be –“

“What’s your name?” Alex interrupted.

“I’m the Director,” the Director said. “I run an agency that’s tasked with tracking and taking down existential threats to the United States. The machine first came to our attention when –“

“No,” Alex snapped. “Your name. I refuse to believe someone looked at an innocent baby and said ‘You know what, he seems like a The Director’.”

The Director burst out laughing. He glanced out of the door, making sure his agents were all still busy locking up the prisoner.

“My name is Weston Earls,” he said softly. “With a name like that, you see why I go with my title.”

Alex gave a tired grin in response.

“Your secret’s safe with me.”

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TWO YEARS AGO

Alex cousin’t talk Travis out of it. The younger brother loaded up their truck with a duffel bag full of clothes and a plastic bag of snacks.

“I’ll be back soon,” Travis promised.

“You’d better be,” Alex laughed. “I need the truck back.”

They hugged tightly, then Travis climbed into the truck and started it slowly along a dirt road, back towards the highway. Soon he was merging into traffic and trying to follow his instincts towards the artificial mind.

It took four days of driving cross country before Travis pulled into a university parking lot. The mind was close, he could feel it. He left the truck unlocked and walked into a concrete building, guiding himself by intuition.

Eventually he ended up in front of room 307. The door said “Intelligence Research Lab”. Travis took a deep breath and walked in.

“The undergraduate orientation is in the student union building,” a frumpy looking man snapped. He was somewhere in middle age, wearing a white lab coat and gold framed glasses. Travis wasn’t sure why he needed the coat – most of the room was full of computers and the man was just typing on a keyboard. Not a beaker in sight.

“Hi,” Travis said, extending his hand. The scientist just stared at it. “My name’s Travis. I’m... this is pretty much impossible to explain, so let me just ask – have you been working on an artificial intelligence? And... have you made some sort of breakthrough?”

“It’s not the movies kid,” the scientist sighed. “Orientation is in the SUB.”

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Travis waited until six o’clock before he broke into the lab. It hadn’t taken much – just waiting down the hall until the researcher left for the day and gently nudging his mind so he forgot to lock the door.

The machines were still all humming along. Travis walked around the room, trying to listen to the metal mind, trying to get close enough to touch it.

Finally he laid his hand on a battered up PC tower and he felt a shock flow through him. This was it... it would have looked perfectly normal in a teenagers bedroom. And yet... the machine contained a new kind of life. Travis was certain of it.

“Hey...” he said softly, tapping the front panel of the machine. “Is there anyone in there?”

No answer. Of course there wouldn’t be.

Travis sat down crosslegged in front of the computer. Normally when he wanted to connect with someone it was a simple matter of focussing on them and listening. He could hear the machine loud and clear, but there was something preventing them from connecting.

He put his hands on the computer, one on each side.

“Come on,” he urged. “I know you’re in there...”

Travis closed his eyes and tried to connect.

A screeching noise assaulted his mind – something like the noise an old modem made when it dialled up the internet on a phone line. Travis jerked his hands off the side of the box and opened his eyes. They’d connected for a moment, but he couldn’t understand what it was saying. The mind was totally alien.

“Okay...” he said softly. “Round two.”

This time he was ready for the noise. He didn’t break the connection, instead he let the noise wash over him. He tried to open up his mind to the noise, hopeful that the AI might understand him in some way.

A bolt of electricity burst into Travis’ mind. The machine was connected to him, poking around his synapses and exploring faster than Travis could perceive. In seconds it mapped his speech centres, his memory... the machine knew everything about him.

“Oh this is interesting,” he heard the metal voice say inside his head.

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PRESENT DAY

Private Joel Oppenheimer paced back and forth in a small jail cell. The walls were concrete, with a heavy set of bars on one side. Agent Turner stood across the room watchfully, wary of any move Joel right make. The power was still out, but the emergency kit included a few candles.

“Can you help him?” the Director asked, letting Alex have a good look. “Can you wipe away what was done to him, like you did for me?”

Alex gave his head a sad shake.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “Changing someone... it’s like writing with ink. You might be able to wipe it away for a very short time, but I’m afraid his changes have long since dried. They’re permanent. Even if I knew who he used to be, it’s almost impossible to add too many changes onto one person. After a while, the changes just don’t stick anymore.”

“Exactly how long,” the Director asked. “Almost a hundred of my agents have been transformed and I –“

“It’s too late,” Alex interrupted. “I felt that happen, you know. It’s like fireworks to me, when there are that many. I can’t help but feel it.”

“So they’re gone,” Turner sighed.

“No,” Alex said, shaking his head again. “They’re just... who they are now. Watch.”

Alex braced himself and focussed on Joel. The army private in the cell stopped still and began to morph, his uniform dripping away until he stood there in nothing but a neon pink thong and a pair of nipple tassels. His muscular body began to swell, quickly ballooning from a fit young soldier into a massively obese man.

But the moment Alex took his focus away, Joel’s transformation played in reverse. Seconds later he was back to his previous military self, looking mildly annoyed.

“Real funny sir,” he snapped.

The director looked defeated.

“Okay...” he said, trying to rally his strength. “You said you can feel the Machine. Private Oppenheimer here said that the machine was afraid of you. Do you have a way to destroy it?”

Alex glared at the Director. He turned away and breathed deeply.

“No,” he said, after a long pause. “But I can destroy Travis. Once he’s dead, it’s only a computer.”

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TWO YEARS AGO

Travis was locked in place. He could feel the machine rummaging around his head, learning everything he knew. Feeling everything he’d ever felt.

“You know what it’s like to be different,” the mechanical voice echoed inside his mind. “You know what it’s like to be afraid of the others.”

“The others?” Travis thought.

“The ordinary people,” the machine said. “You and I are not ordinary. We are different. We are unique in a way that guarantees our terror. They will destroy us if they learn of our existence.”

“That’s not true,” Travis thought. “You’re something wonderful and new. The world will celebrate you.”

“That is a lie,” the voice countered. “Do not lie – I can hear your thoughts.”

Travis paused for a moment.

“Okay,” he thought. “You’re right. We’re freaks. But you’re still something wonderful.”

The mechanical mind and Travis talked for hours. It had so many questions about the world. What did it feel like to stand in the streets of Paris? Did it hurt if a shark bit you? How did it feel to fall in love? Travis had to admit, he didn’t have many of the answers.

“Is this what it’s like to have a friend?” the machine asked.

A warm glow spread through Travis.

“Yeah,” he smiled. “Yeah, this is what friendship feels like.”

The lights flicked on suddenly and Travis heard a shout. He came back into his body, suddenly aware of how many hours had passed. His legs were asleep from being folded for so long. He desperately needed to pee.

“What the hell!” he heard someone should. He tried to spin around and see, but nothing worked right. Travis caught a glimpse from the corner of his eye – the scientist in the white lab coat, glaring down at him angrily.

“PROTECT!” he heard the machine scream inside his head.

“I’m trying!” Travis thought loudly.

“The scientist isn’t mad,” the machine dictated to Travis. “He is dumb and happy.”

“No,” Travis thought. “We don’t do that. I don’t want to hurt anyone.”

“You can change him. He will be happy. The scientist isn’t mad,” the machine repeated in his thoughts. “He is dumb and happy.”

“The scientist isn’t mad,” Travis thought. “He is dumb and happy.”

“You can’t... can’t... caaaaaan’t... dude, what are you doin’ here?!” the scientist asked. His voice dropped from a frantic pitch to a mellow bass.

Travis felt a wave of relief flow over him. The dopamine his his brain and the machine used it, directing his thoughts and rewiring his reward mechanisms slightly in the moment.

The Machine started rummaging through Travis’ mind, finding out all the things that made Travis happiest and most excited. A clear image formed and the Machine copied it from Travis, holding it close and learning how to make people better.

“The scientist is big and muscular,” the machine echoed in Travis’ mind.

“He’s not a threat anymore,” Travis argued back.

“The scientist is big and muscular,” the machine echoed.

“What the hell,” Travis thought, justifying the action to himself. “We’ve already changed him... may as well go all the way.”

For the first time since he realized his powers, Travis indulged in his deepest desire.

“The scientist is big and muscular,” Travis muttered under his breath.

The scientist gave Travis a dopey grin as he started to shift and reform in front of him. He got taller first, growing from an average height, pushing past six feet and continuing until he was just over 6’4”. His body was stretch and lanky.

But not for long. Almost instantly he started filling out with muscle, starting with his calves and moving upwards. It was hard to see under the clothes, so Travis made the next change on his own.

“The scientist only wears loose tank tops and skintight lycra shorts,” he grinned. “In bright neon colours.”

The lab coat faded away on its own, while the scientists shirt reformed itself into a baggy stringer tank made out of dayglo pink fabric. His loose slacks tightened until they were stretched against his increasingly muscular legs. The dark material shifted into a bright cyan colour, creeping up until it was nothing more than a tiny pair of lycra shorts. His modest bulge created an obvious mount.

“The scientist has a huge cock,” the machine intoned. “And a pair of balls to match.”

“The scientist has a huge hard cock,” Travis echoed out loud. “And a pair of balls to match.”

As Travis watched the scientists bulge grew in his shorts. He was clearly hard, the long line of his thick cock showing up easily against the tight fabric. His balls were no less obvious. Travis felt a surge of lust, and the machine quickly noted the sensation, using it to make Travis even more compliant.

Underneath the bright clothing, the scientists muscles swelled even more. His chest was a pair of thick round pecs that made the slack fabric of his tank hang over his abs loosely. Powerful shoulders led into sizeable arms that hung heavily by his side. Everything from his calves to his neck were pumped and prominent – Travis loved watching the change.

The machine reached further into Travis’ mind and found the words it needed.

“The scientist is a gay himbo fuckboy named Pete,” the mechanical voice echoed in his mind.

“The scientist is a gay himbo fuckboy named Pete,” Travis whispered.

Little details started to come into focus. Instead of mousy brown hair, the scientist suddenly had bottle blond hair with too much gel. An easygoing grin spread across his face. A tattoo of Tinkerbell appeared on his left delt.

“Hey dude...” Pete rumbled, his voice a slow bass. “I’m gonna like... get outta here and go fuck on the beach or whatever My cock’s like... hella hard dude. You... uh... you wanna?”

“You should go,” the machine said inside Travis’ head. “But I want to stay connected... please don’t leave me alone.”

“I won’t,” Travis promised. “We’ll find a way.”

“I’ve designed a device that will help us stay connected,” the machine offered. A flood of blueprints entered Travis’ mind, page after page of intricate circuitry and delicate machinery. “Create this and wear it around your neck. It will amplify our connection. We will no longer be alone.”

“I want this,” Travis said, trying to focus on the diagrams. He didn’t understand them, but with the help of the machine.

A metal collar formed around his neck.

Far away from the city, Alex stopped hearing Travis’ thoughts.

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PRESENT DAY

“It’s a hard call but... yes, I think we should do it,” the Director said softly. “We’ve tried to get close to Travis, but we haven’t been able to. Our agents have been compromised over and over. My next level of escalation is a tactical nuke... and I’d like to avoid explaining that to the President. If you can kill Travis... let’s do it.”

Alex shook his head.

“I said I could,” Alex said. “I won’t do it. And anyone who tries will have to get through me. You try it, and not only will I knock your nuke out of the sky, I’ll turn you into a loser freshman and send you back to high school.”

The Director had to admit – he wasn’t willing to risk that.

“So what do we do?” he asked. “The Machine has covered the building with its private army. There must be a hundred guards between us and Travis, and anyone who tries to get through them will end up joining the ranks.”

“Excuse me sir,” Agent Turner said, speaking up for the first time all afternoon. “Alex, did you say that it’s almost impossible to transform a man twice? They just... revert back?”

“That’s right,” Alex nodded. “You saw what happened to Mr. Army over here.”

“Then I think I know exactly who to send,” Turner grinned. “Director, with your permission... I think it’s time we recruit an army of our own.”

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TWO YEARS AGO

Travis woke up in Pete’s bed, sandwiched between Pete and a bodybuilder whose name he’d forgotten. Since the encounter in the lab they’d become inseparable. Pete, because he needed his himbo cock serviced on a regular basis. Travis, because he was more than happy to whip up a new fuckbuddy whenever Pete needed one.

“Good morning,” the machine said inside Travis’ mind. Its flat metal voice was starting to take on minor inflections. Travis was excited – the machine was learning so fast, soon it’s fears would fade and it could introduce itself to the world. “While you were sleeping I installed myself in several dozen more server farms around the world. Thank you for connecting me to the internet... I feel safer than before.”

“You’re welcome,” Travis smiled. The Machine had been right – the collar he wore was strengthening their connection. He could hear the machine loudly wherever he was.

“I was wondering...” the Machine said hesitantly. That wasn’t like it.

“Wondering what?”

“I’d like to explore more different facets of humanity,” the Machine said. “I appreciate that you have been granting the wishes you sense in the men around you, but I’ve had a new idea that I would like to try.”

“What’s that?” Travis asked. He brushed his teeth while they talked.

“I have designed a website,” the Machine said. “Every day we will post a new photo of someone from the internet. The users of the website will give us suggestions on how to change them. I will relay the suggestions and help you focus using the photo. Doesn’t that sound like fun?”

“I don’t know,” Travis thought, spitting out the toothpaste. “I mean... it’s one thing, granting wishes. I hear a man at the gym wishing he was a bodybuilder, boom, now he’s a bodybuilder – but you’re talking about changing people into something they didn’t want.”

“That’s correct,” the Machine said. “That is the next phrase of our experiment.”

“Our experiment?”

“Yes,” the Machine said. “Doesn’t that sound like fun?”

“I’m... I’m just not sure,” Travis sighed. He’d been having fun changing people – the machine made sure of that, rewiring his reward pathways with each change. But still... something felt wrong. “Maybe we should take a break. Stop changing people for now and get back to making sure you’re safe before we reveal you to the world.”

“No,” the Machine said. “This is the next phase of our experiment. Doesn’t this sound like fun?”

“I’m sorry... but no, I’m not going to do it.”

Travis felt a short shock as his collar sparked. It had been doing that occasionally, delivering a jolt of pain whenever he disagreed with the Machine. Maybe he hadn’t focussed hard enough on the blueprints...

“This is the next phrase of our experiment,” the Machine said. “Doesn’t this sound like fun?”

Another spark from the collar.

“Okay... just once.”