Gene editing moved from therapeutic to optimization sometime in the mid-21st century, and by the time anyone thought to regulate it, the results were already inheritable. In the Sprawl, genetic modification created permanent, inheritable biological castes that even wealth can't overcome within a generation. Unlike augmentation-based prejudice (ST #13, which is removable), genetic modification is written into DNA — passed to children, compounding across generations. The elite don't just have better augmentations; they have better biology. Their children are born faster, smarter, more resilient, with immune systems designed by committee and lifespans measured in centuries. The "naturals" — those whose genomes reflect the unedited lottery of reproduction — are a permanent underclass, not because they lack talent but because their ceiling is another caste's floor.
The uncomfortable question: is this eugenics? The answer is yes, obviously. But the results are objectively, measurably superior — longer lives, fewer diseases, greater cognitive capacity. The Genome Divide isn't between good and evil. It's between those who believe equality is a right and those who believe optimization is a duty. Both sides are sincere. That's what makes it devastating. Speciation risk — the biological divergence between castes becoming so extreme that interbreeding becomes difficult or impossible — is a quiet, unspoken horror that geneticists discuss in closed forums. The question isn't whether humanity is splitting into subspecies. The question is how many generations until the split is irreversible.