[ WP ] For the last 15 years humans have been able to manipulate our genes . Picking and choosing what we want our children to look like as well as other attributes . As of the last few days it is now becoming apparent across the globe this was not a good idea .

Laurie's pulse was galloping, her thin frame tensed beneath the fixed gaze of her new pupils. Her guard, Dean, sat slouched in his chair, his gun limp on his side.Even as the authority she felt venerable, sized up as prey. Rows of delicate elvin faces, strong jaws and high cheekbones sat erect in attention. There was no margin for poor aesthetics, they were all eerily similar, only varying in skin tones and eye colors, the ghost of diversity. She managed a shaky introduction, typing her name into the Exon so it illuminated in front of each steel desk. 
 
 Gen 4. was rumored to be the most artificial prototype, as well as the most lethal. They were known as the radiant finale of human mutation before the government crack-down. Even as a Gen 2. herself, Laurie found the substance and manor of these creatures to be so alien. 
 
 `` The Exon will do all the work'' The school administrator had assured her. She was almost disappointed he was right. The hologram's cyan lights danced around each student, encasing them each in a sound proof translucent orb. Some students were doing Calculous algorithms others were repeating words of Korean or Russian, one student was playing a simulated piano. She could monitor the activity and progress of each orb in her own, MegaExon, but she found it claustrophobic.Instead she read, sketched, and worked formulas for enhancing the machines. 
 
 Her mind, she guessed and the minds of Gen 4, were formulated for high work-efficiency. She could never still her hands. Unwillingly she was a continuous generator for more work, brighter ideas. A metallic voice deep inside her endlessly bellowed `` more!'' `` better!'' `` `` stronger''. Laurie had grown jaded with that voice. She was really 40, but in G.2 years only 22. Her features looked 19 at the oldest and her body coursed with strength, however her mind was tired. 
 
 That's where they really blew it, in the aging process. The world assumed the worst was over after watching G.1, harshly nicknamed `` the Gina pigs.'' Super geniuses whose minds were too depleting to live past 11. Little faces with purple iris's rendering them blind. Stunning young beings who were ether too weak or too strong had to be put under. Children would have tantrums and hack government networks, progress turned to epidemic. Lauries Gen. 2 had considerably less kinks, but found themselves endlessly young, threatening the world with overpopulation. They knew they would die, and knew they could die. But the question of `` how long?'' remained stamped on her peers. 
 
 Gen.2 survived the tantrum stage with the miracle of tabletas. Laurie almost felt a twinge of guilt placing the little red tablets on the corner of each desk each morning. She then would administer the full adult syringe into her own arm. The formula is meant to sedate the dangerous thoughts and desires for rebellion. The tableta drug was fashioned after the third economic breakdown. 
 
 Money could no longer survive in a whirlwind of such intelligence. People would make millions, others would then steal millions. No one was naive enough to buy unnecessary products, and no one had the resources to make them. Those who could not afford to better their genes had died out, humanity stood still on an even playing field. The tabletas were meant to hold humanity docile beneath one socialist government, in order to preserve itself. If Laurie did not administer the pills the Exon would catch it, and an alarm would be sounded. The punishment for breaching the rules; death. The system was harsh, yet secure. The world had to learn how to trust again before it could loosen the reigns. 
 
 At Lunch break Laurie converses with her students. She stares curiously at the deep blue eyes of Claire, who is quoting Machiavelli in a philosophy debate. Their 9 year old faces mask grad-school level knowledge. Small bodies pose in chairs, listening, chatting exactly as mature adults would. They are all polite, some are shy, one shines with new found charisma. She frowns at the realization that she is useless to them. Everything she knows, they can look up, or will learn it soon. Something about them is weighted. Their full lips have mastered fake smiles, their tiny hands rest in their laps. Nothing can surprise them, nothing can excite them. Laurie imagines they yearn deeply for feelings they do not know. They will never grasp the beautiful simplicity that was stolen from them. From all of them. 

