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Orreth

The tour

Say tour, show me around, guide the panel or what am I looking at in the chat — or press the TOUR switch on the sill, which beckons until you have seen it once. A soft amber line draws itself around one part of the live panel at a time, the rest dimmed but still moving and still clickable, with a card beside it saying what that part is and what to try. TRY IT on a card puts words in the chat and never sends them; ← → move; Esc leaves, first of all; a part folded away (full screen, a layer off) is skipped.

It is a guide to explore by, not a manual. Here are its sixteen cards, on paper.

  1. Welcome to the panel. This is a kernel for agents, drawn as a control room’s panel. Everything you see is real and live: the shapes are what is built, the light is what is happening right now, and the colour says who did it — amber a person, cyan an agent, violet the kernel itself. You sit outside it and steer. There are three ways to work here: do it yourself, work alongside the crew, or ask the kernel to take the lead. Every one of them keeps a person in and on the loop.
  2. The kernel’s organs. Six organs the kernel always carries. The DESK is the door: who is seated, who may come in. The GROUND is its memory — every ask, reply and record, signed, in this world. The GATEWAY is where every thought an agent has is bought, in dollars. The SHELF holds every tool and service the kernel governs. The MONITOR watches the world and holds the levers. The ANALYZER shows everything that was born in the chat, by who asked.
  3. The rails. Five rails carry the world’s traffic. When a fact passes — an ask, a reply, a lease, a duty waking, an intention taking a step — a segment lights toward whoever it is for, then fades. Nothing travels off the rails. That’s why every act can be replayed and explained later.
  4. The firmware — the crew with jobs. Agents with a function and no persona: the planner, the critic, the grader, the toolkeeper, the stable-keeper who looks after the language models themselves, and MITL — the mind-in-the-loop who has read the architecture and can explain it to you. Try: mitl, what does the planner do?
  5. The residents — the ones who answer you. The librarian keeps records and reads them back to you word for word; echo simply answers, so you can see the road an ask takes. Every resident is a permanent self — if one dies it comes back as the same self, with the same memory. Try: librarian, what is the temperature outside?
  6. The shelf’s tools. Every tool the crew may use, with its border saying how consequential it is. Where this is going: agents will make their own tools, prove them, and put them on this shelf for other agents to use — through the same gates you see here, with a person’s word on anything that matters.
  7. The running board. Everything in flight, as a tree. Every row is a door. This is the part that grows when you let the kernel take the lead.
  8. The tape. The same facts, in words, newest first. If you only read one line of the panel, read this one.
  9. The sill — three soft switches. ARCHITECTURE shows what is built, even the empty sockets. OPERATIONS shows what is happening. PERFORMANCE lays the numbers over the same drawing. FULL SCREEN puts the panel alone on a wide display, so a room can watch a world from across the floor. Press F any time.
  10. The one chat. Everything begins here. Ask a question and a resident answers, whole. Say something standing — “keep this world resilient” — and it becomes an INTENTION the kernel works on for as long as you let it. It can open any pull, scope itself to one agent, call an agent in another world by name, and summon MITL when you are unsure. Try: guide
  11. The CREW pull. Every body in this world on one page — residents and firmware, both sides of each: what it is, its self, its schedule, its mind, its spend. Pulls slide in from the edges; Esc puts them back.
  12. The MONITOR pull. The operating state, live: the pulse, the peers, the language models, the health checks, the rails, every body, the asks left waiting, the watches, and the harness. Every lever a person can pull is on it, and each is recorded, never deleted. Try: open the monitor
  13. The ANALYZER hatch. Lift the floor and you see everything born in the chat by its origin: your intentions, the objectives under them, what is in flight and what is done. It is the kernel’s own account of what it is doing for you.
  14. Three ways to work. Do it yourself: you build or bring your own agent and seat it here under the same laws. Work with the crew: you and the residents and firmware craft the words, the skills and the plan together — MITL at your elbow. Or ask the kernel to take the lead: say what you want kept true, and the rails bring in the planner, the critic and the crew to observe, plan, act and report. In every one of the three, a consequential act holds until a person says yes. Try: keep this world resilient: when a watch goes red, get it green
  15. A person in and on the loop. Nobody acts anonymously here. You sat down with a seat the kernel minted after you proved who you are; every agent came in through the desk on a person’s word; every consequential act waits at the interlock for a click; and you can stop anything the machine manages, any time, with a word. Security is not bolted onto the agents. It is the shape of the room. Try: mitl, what would happen if I stopped the resiliency intention?
  16. Go and explore. Click anything — every organ, station, tool and row is a door. Watch the rails for a while. Ask the librarian something you’d ask a colleague. State one intention and come back tomorrow to read the board. Say “tour” whenever you want this walk again, and “guide” for everything you can say. The panel is yours.

The tour’s words are the kernel’s own, kept in the glass page beside the guide; when they change with a release, this page changes with them.