Welcome to the planet Sacagawea. Here, there are many deserts. Deseret rules much of the land...and much of the seas and skies beyond that. And the Mormons rule with an iron hand.
Ah, the Mormon Church. High, it stands. Far and wide, it expands. They're a scourge; usually an angelic one...but often way too critical for most irreligious types to live in peace.
Wherever there is a Mormon temple, there's a Young International facility. This company is working around the clock, as we speak, to make Deseret, and what they soon hope will become the rest of the world, a fucking Mormon utopia.
In this temple, a wedding is in-progress. The bride is gorgeous. The organ music is dream-worthy. Rays of sunlight spotlight many places...including the bride and groom.
Meet the bride. Right now, she's Ms. Young. Her name will change, as soon as the priest says "husband and wife." As her name suggests, she is a scion of the Young family; the most powerful and influential family in the fucking Mormon Church.
This is the groom. He's Mr. Fyers...and probably will be until the day he dies...or gets scrapped, rather. If the Mormons were a matriarchal society, that wouldn't be the case. And his patriline would be just as indistinguishable as the many surnames that would pollute that line; none of which would repeat themselves; not consecutively, at least.
Mr. Fyers isn't what he appears. As far as Mormon transhumanists are concerned...he is SO much better than what he appears...
"Ms. Young," the priest asks, "do you take Mr. Fyers to be your husband, in confusion and in clarity, in isolation and in company, and in adversity and in friendship, as long as you both shall live."
Like a bimbo, Ms. Young flaps her red curls, and says, "I do."
"And do you, Mr. Fyers, take Ms. Young to be your lawfully wedded wife, in destitute and in fortune, in sickness and in health, and in shame and in honor, for as long as you both shall live?"
"I do," Mr. Fyers clears his throat, in a flash. "I mean, I do."
He sounds more human the second time. The first time, he sounded like a robot...
"By the power vested in me by the state of Deseret, I now pronounce this couple husband and wife. You may kiss the bride."
Ms. Young throws the bouquet, and embraces her new husband. A flash of light flashes between their mouths, the first time they try to kiss.
In the audience, there is much applause. The organ plays the conclusion.
At the reception, Mrs. Fyers tries the white wine. She drinks two bottles, and dances with her new husband. For this, the surround sound at the reception plays Faun's "Odin."
It's a happy day for this couple. It's about to get even better...
Hours later, the Fyerses are on their honeymoon. They're on a white sandy island, surrounded by jungles and the ocean.
Mr. Fyers shuts himself in the bathroom. Here, he prepares to consummate his marriage to the bride, once and for all...
He takes off his shirt, and turns off the lights. Like a robot, his belly lights up. It's a computer screen, with many meters and gauges. The main one that can be seen are the minutiae of the "sperm forge" the blazes deep in the groin of Mr. Fyers.
As you might've guessed, Mr. Fyers is a robot. It seems the Mormon Church has finally become so transhumanist, that it's not enough for Mormon parents to just expect their children to fall in love, get married, and breed more Mormons anymore. Because let's face it; sometimes their Mormon child falls for a Jew, or a Shoshone, or an atheist, or a Latino, or someone just as degenerate. And so, with the help of Young International, the Mormons are taking their legacy to the next level...seeing as trusting Jehovah to protect it for them isn't working.
Mr. Fyers's sperm forge is ready. It's also taken sneaky analyses of Mrs. Fyers's ovarian chemistry, and calculated which of her eggs are the most likely to produce what kind of children with what kind of sperm, yada-yada-yada. The next generation of Fyers kids will be virtual angels...or bust. With luck, and generous business done with Young International, the Mormon legacy will not likely die in Mrs. Fyers's lifetime.
Mr. Fyers is ready. He re-disguises himself as a normal human, and attends to his bride's fertile parts, in the marriage bed...