Intro
“Green eyes,” Carol said, pointing at the screen. Then she hesitated. “No... hazel. More unpredictable.”
Steven watched her flip through the genetic catalog like fabric samples. But these weren’t textiles. These weren’t furniture. They were choosing a child.
Getting a spot in the Procreation Protocol had been a triumph. Five years of psychiatric exams, financial checks, DNA screening. Thousands of couples rejected. They had made it. Only two percent reached that point, sitting before the tablet.
Steven studied the screen. His father had climbed power lines, built a pharmaceutical empire. But for his son, the ascent was already written in code.
“Aesthetic choices are marginal,” the consultant said, her smile calibrated to the millimeter: smooth skin, perfect teeth, flawless gestures. “It’s the behavioral profile that determines the future.”
Charts and indices appeared on the tablet. “Charisma: 9.2. Strategic thinking: 8.7. Interpersonal influence: 9.0. Aggression level three—the legal maximum without exceeding safety protocols. The ideal package for a political career. We can’t guarantee the Presidency, but the odds of high-level leadership are extremely high.”
Steven didn’t look away. For him, the presidency was the only option.
“Furthermore,” the consultant continued, “with the Executive package you gain quinquennial upgrades for at least twenty years. Every five years you can correct, enhance, realign. Biology is software. And software needs to stay updated.”
Carol nodded slowly, a chill running down her spine.
The consultant lowered her voice, revealing a secret. “There’s one final option. Your profile makes you eligible for the Continuity Program.”
Steven stiffened. “I thought that was just a rumor.”
“No, Mr. Eldor. Very real, though still experimental.” She touched the tablet. “When the technology is ready, it will guarantee that your genetic investment is never lost. Even in case of... unforeseen circumstances.”
Carol frowned. “Unforeseen circumstances?”
“Accidents. Trauma. Events that could compromise optimal development.” The consultant’s smile didn’t waver. “Insurance. Nothing more.”
Steven nodded without hesitation. Carol paled. Her hands trembled in her lap. “Is it... safe?”
“We accept,” Steven cut in before the consultant could answer.
The consultant smiled triumphantly. “Congratulations, Mr. and Mrs. Eldor. Caesar will be extraordinary.”
The name fell into the sterile air like a proclamation. Caesar.
Outside, the city breathed like a tired organism. Identical glass towers sank into the smog. Holographic advertisements flashed: The future is already written.
Streets teemed with Sequenced walking in rhythm, each with a destiny sewn into DNA. Above, Genetech airships projected the slogan across the gray sky.
Carol gripped Steven’s arm. “What if he doesn’t want to be Caesar?”
Steven didn’t slow. “What do you mean? It’s written in his DNA.”
Carol said nothing. Her eyes drifted over the city pulsing below. She understood that when he came into the world, he wouldn’t just be a child. He would be their investment. Their prodigy. Their... predestined one.
This was Caesar.
This was destiny.
This was America, 2062
