Look at the girl who is today your second grade daughter. Fifteen years from now she has taken on her most formidable challenge yet, competing with her generations elite in law school. She is just home for the holidays, and you want to hear all about it. "What are you classmates like honey?" you ask innocently. How does she explain what the enchanced kids are like? she wonders.
- They're not only faster and more creative than anybody she's ever met, but faster and more creative than anybody she's ever imagined.
- They have photographic memories and total recall. They can devour a book in minutes.
- They're beautiful physically. Although they don't put much of a premium on exercise.
- They talk casually about living a very long time, perhaps being immortal. They're always discussing their "next lives."
- These new friends are always connected to each other, sharing their thoughts no matter how far apart, with no apparent gear.
- They have this odd habit of cocking their head in a certain way whenever they want to access information they don't yet have – as if waiting for a delivery to arrive wirelessly. Which it does.
- For a week or more at a time, they don't sleep. They joke about getting rid of the beds in their cramped dorm rooms, since they use them so rarely.
Her new friends are polite when she can't keep up with their conversations, as if she were handicapped. They call themselves "Enhanced," and those who have neither the education nor the money to keep up with the enhancements they dismiss as simply "The Rest." The poor dears they just keep falling farther and farther behind.