.. and those number in the thousands ... never learn it. And I don’t learn their names, either. I’m just the guy who squirts the sperm, and there�...�s no personal connection at all. That’s what a Stud does.A half a century ago, they might have called me a sperm donor. Back then, there were plenty of fertile men, and some of them used to donate their sperm for money when a woman wanted a baby but their lovers couldn’t make it happen. That all changed about twenty-five years ago, when the Male. Her two children grew up and would probably have been little snots if mama hadn't been the one with the stick to keep them in line. When they had children, mama had been a great-grandmother to them as well.Aimee was the real baby maker though. I don't know how she did it. She kept working until she was in her mid-60s. She had 5 children, two boys, three girls. And they were grown now and had children of their own. One of Aimee's great grandchildren was a girl that was named Sara. She looked the. "Matt?" I whispered."It's turbulence, Kris," he muttered, not opening his eyes."I know," I said quietly, mostly to myself. The plane shook once more.I let out a whimper and clung to Matt's shirt a little tighter. He sighed, opening his eyes and looking down at me."You're not gonna let me sleep, are you?"I bit my lip. "Can... Can you just talk to me? Distract me or something?" Once again, the plane jolted.Matt looked like he wanted to say no, but I must have looked truly panicked, because he. We started testing our memory during first-breakfast, using a cookbook we found in the kitchen. We very quickly found out that sharing memory was now a piece of cake (actually, according to the page we were using, it was a "Beef Wellington", but you know what I mean). It was now as close to effortless as made no difference. I still needed to find out how functional it was, specifically, whether the minds who'd studied Algebra could understand Calculus, and vice versa. I had the perfect test up.