“Tell me about that airship, Papa.”
"That one is a Nimbus Z1-N, one of the largest, carrying hundreds of passengers through the clouds."
I pick up the display. Server zones 23 and 25 are at risk of overheating. Dispatch has already sent over a support team to check why the cooling system hasn't triggered.
I tap in.
The right lens of my glasses lights up so I can see the perspective of one of the agents overseeing two other rusting and slow moving humanoids as they scan the ceilings.
I tap out.
Give it a little time. 23 and 25 are a ways off from a forced shutdown. I set the threshold this way to stay one step ahead.
Breakfast is waiting for me on the porch table as I come around the side of the house. I’m tugged forward by the aroma of lightly seasoned steak and buttery eggs.
"You eat so early, Papa."
I wake early sweetie. I eat after a nice walk through the Garden.
As I finish my last bite a notification pops up. The support team has found the issue. 23 and 25 are now green. I pour rye, lemon juice, and ginger ale over a large block of ice housed in a sapphire tumbler and sit down on the straw chair out back. Butterflies hover overhead. A bee buzzes near the lilac tree. The smoky, thin air bites the inside of my nostrils.
For two hours I just sit. Waiting. Nothing.
Then, as the sun slides overhead and paints the top of my forehead with rivulets of sunlight, my glasses light up to show an agent trigger for repair. Unfortunately for it, my repair team also needs repair.
Guess I better get out there.
The Garden is alive. Shrubs shake as squirrels dance. Thick rolls of fiber round a sapling oak tree imitating roots. Barn 4, the repair center, is a hundred feet ahead near the tree line.
“Why don’t we ever go into the forest?”
The forest is large and lawless. Here on the farm you have everything you need.
An agent turns as I pull open the barn door. I scan its body using my glasses to penetrate the superficial layers. Looks like rust. It’s always rust. Can’t it ever be anything else? I decommission it and call a transport to haul it over to Barn 6.
I’m not going to meet the regulatory marker for agentic server operations at this point.
“Let’s call it quits, Papa. Ice cream?”
Not yet, sweetie. Just a little longer. There ain’t much to do these days, and even less today of all days. But, if there’s something here for me, it’ll make itself known.
As I exit the barn, I watch Lyla skip ahead of me, a paper crown atop her braided hair.
I was so proud of those braids.
Lyla hides behind a tree humming the birthday tune as she pulls low hanging branches close to her. I tap the side of my glasses twice and she vanishes. I turn them back on and wait a few minutes, standing completely still as the Garden oscillates all around me.
She’s always near. I take a few steps forward. Sometimes you just need to stick around, as hard as it can be to do so.