Something Old, Something New, Something Bought, Something Grew.

Story by fenrihr

An idea that just popped into my head, I shall see if I can make it into something worth reading.

Hope you enjoy the exposition/prologue.

"Ever since Genetech had cracked the human genome in the early 21st century, people had been looking for a way to make the perfect human. Now, with Genetech's RNA resequencers, you can become that perfect person. Stop by any of Genetech's genetic counsel offices, and become the person you've always dreamed of. Or one you never did."

Rob Newman, blinking, turned to his wife of 10 years, and said, "Honey, did they just say what i thought they did?"

Kristen, his wife, responded, "Don't you dare think of it. I am perfect just the way I am, and so are you." She snatched the remote out of his hands and turned off the TV. "Let me show you how perfect I can be," she said seductively, as she pulled him off the couch and towards the bedroom. Rob still thinking about the implications of such a technology, dumbly followed. It was nine months later, to the day, that their new baby, christened Rachel, was born.

Rachel, however, was not quite a typical child. Physicists have stated that with as vast as the universe is, if someone can imagine something, chances are, it exists somewhere in the universe. Well, with the collective imagining of the internet, an intersexed child must be a certainty, not a possiblity. Rachel was the result of that collective imagination.

Kristen, upon finding out that her 'daughter' was anything but, immediately blamed her husband for the results of their child's odd sex. Rob, bewildered by both his wife's deluded fury, and the oddity that was his daughter, was driven to drinking. The fractured, but functional family unit, maintained the status quo, until one night, after being driven out of the house by constant nagging, and into a bar by the resulting headache; Rob, along with 5 other people, one dog, and 4 fish, were the unfortunate victims of a piece of the defunct international space station dropping onto the drinking establishment that he would regularly visit. There were no survivors.

Kristen and Rachel, along with the family members of the other victims, were handsomely renumerated for the loss of their loved ones, to the tune of a million a year each. There was no news story about falling space debris, only a small story about a gas explosion and fire at a watering hole in north-east Texas, that barely registered on anyone's radar.

Approximately 8 years later, when Rachel turned 14, the Newmans were approached by Genetech. Their daughter's unique genetic code was of interest to them. The company told them they would recieve a flat payment of 12 million dollars if they could have a sample of Rachel's various tissues and fluids. Kristen, having negotiated the deal with the countries involved in the ISS debacle, told them no, instead, we will only take 5 million, but if you are to decode her genetic sequence, and ma