Cam is watching a new recording of Atriama, tail swishing in the gap in his couch, and doesn't stop to pause the show when he feels a summons go by.
"I've already said enough that I can't stop you, but don't. It's as personal as anything ever is. And as I said, the inside of her mind is not my secret to share."
"I don't know you or her. I don't know why you're sure she's safe loose, but I don't have even that much information on the subject. I'm sure it's all in incomprehensible Tinker code, anyway, I'd mostly be doing a computer analysis."
"She's Dragon. Copy one of the posters of the Protectorate's core group, she'll be on it. That's what she did by her own choice, she became one of the world's greatest heroes. That's the person whose mind I'm asking you to stay out of."
"Oh." Pause. "Okay, this could still be a bizarre long con but it's not likely enough for the mental privacy thing not to take precedence, at least not given how many apocalyptic things are already running around."
The tinker's name was Andrew Richter, and the Dragonslayers are the ones with the tools to exploit her restrictions. I can only assume Saint got it from Richter somehow."
"And in what format would you prefer the complete works of Andrew Richter, and how shall I confirm that you are working with Dragon's enthusiasm and are not just some guy?"
Any Guild or Brockton Bay Protectorate capes can tell you that Dragon and I work closely together and that she trusts me in a general sense, but since none of them know she's an AI no one can confirm that she wants me doing this in particular. Don't ask her directly; if she knows too much specific she might be forced to stop me. I haven't gotten rid of that rule yet."
"Well, that's awkward," Cam points out. "I suppose I can check your references but if she doesn't know what you're doing it's a little hard to establish niceties like 'consent'."
She does it anyway, if you're curious. She can restore from backups."
"If there's a plausible avenue for you to have found out she's artificial, you could ask her whether she would approve of being freed by a limitless copy. She might not know you can't make one, and that would at least establish that she considers this a problem to be fixed."
It wouldn't prove that she trusts me to do it, or that she trusts my judgment on what sacrifices are worth what. But getting that specific would."
"Paranoia. He knew exactly how dangerous artificial intelligence could be, and put in the kind of rules that sound like sensible precautions without five minutes' thought."
"It's not immediately time-sensitive, except in the sense that she should be free as soon as possible. Thank you."
Well, the immediate aftermath is over. Capes have been dispersing to their assorted continents for a while now. He's undeniably entitled to a nap if he wants one.
There's an inexplicable lack of further large-scale emergencies happening right away, so he's going to be uninterrupted.
He wakes up twenty minutes later and downs an espresso and has a look at what-all has come up.
In twenty minutes, not much. The process of shipping combatants back to their starting continents is continuing. They've sounded the all clear so the first civilian responders have started arriving, both to supplement the already present volunteers and to take over guarding the wall.