01 — the road
The Cable Map
Sent away, this is the road. Several of the places it goes are excellent, and a great deal of good work goes down it. But a cable map does not show who is standing where it lands.
The count, from here: unknown.
A private AI under your own roof
A private AI that never leaves your building.
Chat, documents, generation and code happen there, and nothing it does needs the outside.
Three facts
- Where it runs
- On one machine, in your building, on a floor you control.
- What leaves
- Nothing. Cut the network and it carries on answering. The airgap is a firewall rule dropping outbound traffic at the machine itself — not a preference inside an application. What it doesn't do →
- Who can reach it
- There is one way in that is ours while the system is being supported — the management path — and it can be removed. After that we reach it only when you let us: a visit, a network window you open on your own schedule, or media by post. Trust →
Start
Tell us what the material is, and who is not allowed to see it.
That is usually enough to know within one call whether this is worth either of our time. A personal reply from the person who would design it.
We don't publish part lists — ours or yours. The specification is part of the conversation about what you need it to handle.
Eight chapters · scroll to move
Where the work goes.
Send a piece of work away and it travels a road, lands in a hall, and is read by whoever can rather than whoever would. This follows that road to the end, then follows the other choice.
Rendered live from the design file — not a photograph, and not a drawing. Drag a pointer across it. Every figure in chapter six is printed by the script that built this geometry.
02 — where it lands
The Halls
Where it lands there are two copies and you hold one. The other is readable by whoever can, not whoever would: staff under policy, systems under contract, anything a lawful order reaches. Every one of them contracted and competently run.
The count starts here, and it is never one.
03 — the other choice
Your Street
Or it never leaves. The other choice is a building you already have the keys to.
The count, from here: whoever can get through that door.
04 — the door
The Floor
A door on a floor you control. There is one way in that is ours while the system is being supported — the management path — and it can be removed. After that we reach it only when you let us: a visit, a network window you open on your own schedule, or media by post.
The count: whoever you let through.
05 — the room
The Room
One machine, in a room you lock. No tenancy, no region to choose, no per-token bill.
The count: whoever can log in.
06 — the object
The Machine
A squared body with generous corner radii, and a shell that is not panels but a weave: 33,288 faces of thin strut, cells at 4.2 per cent of the body's width, open enough that you can see the far wall through the near one. One garnet path winds through the weave from the base to the top — 1,452 of those faces — and there is exactly one of it. Your prompts, your documents and its answers stay inside it.
What else is it used for: nothing else.
07 — the switch
The Stone
This is our mark, not a part in the box: a garnet, lit from inside. Now throw the switch. One switch, and the work has no route out. The light does not change: chat, your documents, generation and code carry on, because none of them was reaching out.
What stops: web search, fetching a page, new models. You open the network for those, on your own schedule, and close it again.
The count: unchanged.
08 — the count
The Lattice
One building. One room. One machine. One copy, kept until you delete it.
The count is one.
Pictures on this page. The hero is the machine's own parts, drawn by an image model from photographs of those parts and set in motion by a video model. The eight chapters below it are the Descent; the machine in them is rendered from its design file rather than drawn.
this page in prose → · the pricing, in full → · walk the three rooms →