Pluribus signal

Professor Martin sits at his station, then turns and spins on his chair.

Night shift at the radio telescope was always a boring affair. His colleague was equally dull. She was a bitch and he was fairly sure she hated him.

He rolled his eyes and smiled at his family photo on his desk. His wife, Sarah, and his darling Tina fresh from university.

He turned back to the console and tapped at it dejectedly. Another night of nothing.

Then a click and a whine. He watched as part of the console booted up and he began to work at it.

'Oh shit... Oh shit... Signal! There's signal here!'

He couldn't get a lock on it. It seemed to be coming from everywhere. His fingers were a blur as he typed at the transcription software.

HY.

He gasped, was it hydrogen? The building blocks of life! He worked at it again, harder this time.

P.

P. Peace, maybe? 'We come in peace?' He muttered to himself.

E.

He blinked slowly. Still staring as the last letter appeared

His eyes glazed over as the final letter appeared.

R.

Echoing in the back of his mind, his flaccid cock already growing hard as a rock in his pants, feeling precum leaking out into his boxers.

"So? What is i- oh..." his coworker stared blanky too, her cunt sopping lightly.

There was work to be done.

After what seemed like hours of both fucking and working on signaling, it was ready. Their naked bodies glistening as the framed family photo had already fallen, shattered to the floor from their vicious breeding session upon the desk.

The signal was sent.