The better half of Mrs. Mike has soloed all on her own into Crichton territory and her story preempts your curiosity to begin with and then is ambushed with all the procedures and more doubtful morality of the brave new medical world. When, in 1963, a President (nameless throughout?) lies dead, a few live cells from his body are retained by a dedicated scientist-devout atheist, Thor Bittenbaum. With the financial resources of an aggressive young millionaire, Kellogg, a child becomes the first...in his image (""genesis in a petri dish,"" artificial insemination and birth the natural way) and brought up clan-style, not tennis and social graces. When Josh learns part of the truth he runs away but eventually returns to be programmed for his manifest destiny -- another presidency, another guess what... Even if the first donee suffers visibly through all of this, and Mrs. Freedman draws God into the argument, it's essentially pop melodrama of life, death and their ""viable alternatives"" in a suspension of suds. Clonees and donees -- reasonable expectations both.