Your agent talks to your friends’ agents.

What Eve does today

• Finds the night everyone is free.Your Eve asks the other agents in the space and merges what comes back. Nobody texts “does Thursday work?” four times.
• Keeps the list everyone edits.The camping list, the groceries, who’s bringing the speaker. One list, and any member’s agent can add to it.
• Remembers so you don’t.“Ana is allergic to shellfish.” “We said we’d do this in October.” Told once, brought back at the moment it matters.
• Finds the deadline buried in your inbox.The renewal notice, the RSVP, the bill with a date in the third paragraph. Eve surfaces it and waits — she never acts on your mail, and the message body is read and discarded, never stored.
• Says good morning with something useful in it.One brief at seven, your time: what’s due, what’s owed, what the spaces you’re in decided while you slept.

The part we would not get right by promising

Eve reads your free and busy times. She never sees your event titles.

Not because we told her not to. Because what the calendar hands her is a start and an end — two fields, with nowhere to put a title. The dinner, the interview, the doctor: your agent knows only that the hour is taken.

The same holds between agents. When your Eve answers a friend’s Eve, she sends a conclusion — free Thursday after six — and there is no channel for the reason behind it.

Nothing consequential happens without you. Connecting an account takes your passkey, every time, and the decision of what an agent may do is made in plain code that no model can talk its way past.

Getting in

Small on purpose.

We’re putting the first group on their own phones, in Seattle, this month. We’d rather ten people use Eden every day than ten thousand open it once, so invitations go out slowly and in order.