Yuri frowned at the catalog. Dora considered their options.
“Well?” She asked.
“I’m torn. Both Ethiopian and Japanese seem really nice.”
“I’m thinking Irish.”
“Irish?” Yuri asked. He flipped through the pages and studied the stats. “It says that they carry a slight pain disadvantage.”
“Yes, but that’ll allow us to put the added points into intellect, or strength.”
“It’s a very popular option in Europe.” The clinicist said with a smile.
Yuri squinted in disgust. “That radioactive hellhole?”
The clinicist gave a disapproving look. “That’s not entirely fair, Europe’s really been rebounding in recent years.”
Yuri scoffed. “They’re a bunch of infectious inferts.”
“We’re not exactly pumping out children ourselves, dear.” Dora sighed.
“Not my fault the damned utopians got their way. No races,” He gestured to his face, which looked nearly identical to his wife’s face, the clinicist’s face, and nearly everyone else’s face in the city, “no children.”
“We have a wide network of genetic donors who escaped the Great Blending. They’ll happily assist with creating your ideal child.”
“I’d be happy too.” Yuri moaned. “Getting paid a fortune just to cum in a cup? Hell, I wish I was born with a distinct genetic heritage… Thing won’t even be my child…”
“There’s a bit more to it than just cumming in a cup, and yes, the infant will be yours. The blood you donated will be used to create stem cells, so that the child we synthesize will be from both of you. He or she will have your characteristics and be 98% your genetic offspring. The genetic donors are simply there to allow us to augment the parts of our lineage that, well…” She trailed off. She didn’t need to say more. Everyone who’d been born from the Great Blending completely understood.
“So the kid’ll be mine?” Yuri asked, a bit less moody.
“Guaranteed at least 95%, likely closer to 98%.” The clinicist nodded.
“Well, the donors are still just cumming in a cup.” Yuri huffed.
But Dora interrupted the conversation by holding up the catalog in excitement. “What about a Greek? Dark hair, olive skin, and a robust history of cunning generals and philosophers?”
“A new option.” The clinicist nodded. “We managed to find an intact population along the Mediterranean Coast. They’re exceedingly rare, and if you decide to go Greek, it’ll have your kid standing apart from others on a genetic level. Oh, and might I add, they’ve always been a very fertile people.”
“So he or she might be able to breed naturally?” Dora asked.
The clinicist nodded. “Very high odds.”
“What do you think?” Dora asked. “Shall we Go Greek?”