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.
"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.
Cam looks up what if any provisions there are to arrange that the people inside the perimeter of the wall can, say, eat. Presumably they'll have to be cut off from the city water supply and so on, so that's a problem too.
There is no rule against supplying the inhabitants with more than necessities, as long as it doesn't enable communication, but if Cam chooses to then it would be a very bad idea to let anything they say or do causally influence him.
...It seems weird not to cut them off from the water supply, but maybe nobody has ever actually been able to figure out how to poison the source from the pipe end. Anyway. Cam doesn't need to get close enough to hear them to drop them food and - and books and anime and so on. He'll talk to the local government about coordinating that so they don't wind up with more rice than they can use or something.