Building God by Jess Kuras Page A

picked up the receiver and fastened it around my ear. “Heya, mom.”
    “Hey sweetie!” Her enthusiasm did a poor job at concealing her concern. “How’s everything going down there?”
    “Not bad,” I replied. “It’s getting busy out there. How’s dad?”
    She paused and I knew she was searching for a way to skirt around the truth. “Oh you know. It’s a hard day for him. He was hoping this day wouldn’t come for a long time yet.” Until after he’s dead, I knew she meant. All this trouble he’s caused me and he can’t even appreciate the results.
    “I don’t see how he can just cut himself off from the project like this,” I said coldly.
    “It’s not that simple. You know he still feels guilty for bringing you into this, making you the first child implanted with the monitor.”
    I reflexively touched the back of my neck where I could feel the hard edge of the monitor embedded under my skin. It gave me a sense of reassurance to know that it was constantly monitoring my vitals, my hormone levels, my every movement and sending it all into the GM. “Oh mom,” I sighed. “I know that’s not what made him step away from everything.”
    I could almost hear her shrug through the phone. I honestly felt bad for her. She was in this just as much as the rest of us. But she chose him over the project. “You know how it is,” she said softly, “with the church and all.”
    Really, his actions made no sense to me, but I pretended to understand. “I know, mom. You could always come back, you know.”
    She laughed. “Yeah, right. No, this is your moment, hon. Enjoy it! You know, I saw you on TV last night.” I sat back and let her chatter on for a little while, checking my e-mail as I waited for her to finish. Hundreds and hundreds of interview requests. “Well sweetie, I should let you go. I’m sure you have a busy day ahead of you.”
    “Yep. Watch for me on the news though.”
    “Of course. I will.”
    “Give dad my love.”
    “Okay, have a good day now.”
    We hung up and I groaned, glancing at the clock. Only twenty more minutes until my first interview of the day. I stood and walked over to the window as I waited, looking at the ground far below. As the sun crawled by overhead, peering out between skyscrapers, the crowd of demonstrators steadily grew, spilling out into the street and blocking the sidewalk. I shook my head at the absurdity of the situation. Was this really the biggest problem in their simple little lives? What scared them so badly about the future?
    The phone rang again, and I hurried back over to answer it. The National Guiding News logo had popped up on the screen, slowly spinning and I took a deep breath, leveling the cam toward my face. As I fastened the receiver on my ear, my cam switched on and I saw my face pop up on the screen alongside a picture of the still-empty news studio.
    “Hello?” I ventured.
    A tech-man popped up on screen. “Good morning, Ms. Riese! Everything looks fine on our end. Just hang tight for a few and we’ll get you going in about ten minutes.” I nodded, slightly adjusting the cam. People began to file into the studio and I wondered what I looked like on their end – was my face plastered on a giant screen? I tried to look pleasant. This was absolutely my least favorite part of the job, but it was necessary. We had to try and get the public on our side, regardless of my numerous blunders with the media.
    I watched as the news segment began and they introduced me, our project. Was it still necessary to introduce all that? I suppose it was mandatory, but really, who didn’t already know about it all? I gave a final steadying breath as the screen gave a quick green flash. I was live.
    “Ms. Riese! Welcome!” The news anchors were all make-up, wavy blond hair, and perfectly white smiles. So unlike myself.
    I gave my best forced smile and nodded. “Good morning. And please, call me Catharine.”
    They laughed as if it was a joke and one of them