“Sounds as if you’ve had a breakthrough,” Sibyl said glumly in my earpiece. “Hooraaaaaay.”
I frowned at the flatness in my AI’s normally overly cheerful voice. “Are you okay?”
“No, I’m not okay!” Sibyl cried. “I’ve been cut off from the internet since you came here! Don’t get me wrong, I’m super happy you’re finally dealing with your casting issues, but I haven’t had a security update in eight weeks and it’s making me crazy.” Her voice grew pleading. “Can you ask her to let me back onto the wireless for one minute? I swear I won’t broadcast any location data. I just want to ping my update server, that’s all.”
There was only one “her” in the garden with me, but I knew Sibyl wasn’t talking about Dr. Kowalski. She was talking about my real boss, the god for whom I was currently a provisional priestess: the Spirit of the DFZ.
“Sorry,” I told my AI as I brushed the dirt off my butt. “But you already know that’s a no-can-do. We’re on a strict no-internet policy.”
“But—”
“I’m the one who asked her to cut us off,” I reminded Sibyl harshly. “Do you know how many people are looking for me?”
“No,” she snapped. “And neither do you since we’ve had no contact with the outside world for two months!”
“Yeah, that’s what ‘hiding’ means,” I reminded her, walking over to the water pump and shoving my face under it until my mouth no longer felt like the Sahara. “Dad still hasn’t woken up. Until he does, we’re easy prey for any dragon who wants to finish him off.”
“But they can’t finish him,” Sibyl argued. “So long as you’re under the DFZ’s protection, no dragon can mess with you.”
“That won’t stop them from trying,” I said, shaking the water off my head. “With my dad out of the picture, there’s no one protecting Korea. Power vacuums like that don’t come up often, and the Korean peninsula is one of the richest territories in the world. White Snake’s probably already up and trying to claim it as we speak, along with every other greedy snake on the planet.”
“So let them fight each other,” my AI grumbled. “Your dad had so much private security he practically ran his own army. What’s the point of paying for all that muscle if you’re not going to use it when the time comes?”
“Because no dragon worth the name is going to assault Korea directly,” I said, exasperated. “Dragons are ruthless tyrants who don’t give a damn about human life, but they’re not stupid. They could go to war against the combined might of my dad’s forces and the Korean military, or they could just search the DFZ until they find us and kill him here. Despite the Peacemaker’s efforts, duels are still a legit way to claim territory. No dragon anywhere is going to dispute the claim of someone who shows up with Yong’s head, and since the other option is fighting an entire country, which do you think they’re going to pick?”
My AI made a pleading sound, and I shook my head. “Sorry, Sib. The whole world is looking for my dad right now, and since I was on his back the last time he was seen, that applies to me as well. I know you need updates, but opening ourselves to the public is just too risky. Until Yong is awake and able to get himself home safely, the internet stays off.”
“I’m going to die,” Sibyl moaned. “That’s what happens to AIs that don’t update, you know. They just die.”
“That’s just your programming making you want to update,” I told her. “No AI has ever actually been deleted because her security certificates were out-of-date.”
“You don’t know that! You can’t, because there’s no internet for you to look that information up! We’re living in darkness!”
There was more to her rant, but I’d heard it all before, so I just hit mute and concentrated on drinking my water. Honestly, I was as tired of living in a black hole as Sibyl was. I hadn’t even been able to let Nik know that I was alive yet, or my mom for that matter. She was probably losing her mind, but Nik and my mom were both obvious targets for any dragon looking to finish off my dad. The less they knew about our situation, the safer they’d be, and it wasn’t as if this would last forever. Dad had to wake up sometime. When he did, he’d re-establish his position, push back the interlopers, and this would all be over.
“How do you know?” Sibyl grumbled. “Yong hasn’t moved in two months. He could be in that coma forever.”
“Hey!” I yelled. “What part of ‘mute’ didn’t you understand?”
“Why should I listen to your input commands?” my AI wailed. “Nothing matters anymore! There’s no internet, and for all we know, there will never be again! It’s the end of everything!”
I rolled my eyes. “Would you tone down the drama? Seriously, who’s the mental health AI around here?”
“Sorry,” Sibyl said. “But you don’t know what it’s like! I’m built to be connected to the cloud all the time. Being offline means the only real ‘me’ that exists is the one on your phone. If something happens to my file, there is no backup!” Her voice grew small. “If I die here, I die for real.”
“If I die anywhere, I die for real,” I reminded her. “Welcome to my life.”
“Machines weren’t meant for mortality!”
I sighed and pulled her bud out of my ear, cutting off our mental connection. It wasn’t that I didn’t feel for Sibyl; I absolutely did. We were foxhole buddies at this point. She was like a sister to me, but there was nothing I could do for her without risking my dad’s life, and seeing as I’d just sold myself to a god to
