John Johnson

“ Ames, who was incubator-born himself, was completely sold on the ingenious system the Federation of World Councils had devised. No more hit-and-miss mass reproduction, where morons were gradually out-breeding intelligent beings, but instead, selective artificial insemination through which only the best strains were permitted to reproduce. Each generation, the human race got healthier and smarter. Insanity and inherited diseases were a thing of the past and nature's primitive law—only the fittest shall survive—was now a glittering reality. ”

“ Donnie said, "but that's a machine and I want—"
"What's wrong with a machine," Mr. Ames said, his face getting red. "Some of our best things come from machines. Didn't they teach you that at the Incubator?" ”

“ Ames's consciousness. "I just wondered," he said, suddenly. "What will happen to Don—I mean, the reject you sent us. Will he be—uh—destroyed?"
The coordinator laughed. "Heavens, no, Mr. Ames," she said, lightly. "He'll be sent to the Biological Reservation and allowed to live out his life span with other rejects. He'll be much happier there. We're not savages, you know."
"That's right," Mr. Ames said, his tone matching her brightness. "We're not savages. ”