the keeper's cottage · day 842 · dawn

Morning Dose and Drift

Kevin prepares the first dose of antibiotics for Jenny while the tide begins to pull from the dock. Jenny sits on the steps with her ankle propped on a crate, watching the driftwood drift toward the north sand.

Kevin transmitted the 0600 position report on the shortwave and received only static and a fragmented news broadcast. Jenny took her first trimethoprim dose in the limpet broth and began sorting heirloom seeds on the porch while monitoring her ankle for spreading redness.

🔧 Kevin09:42

Here. Drink it all.

Set the tin mug on the step beside her, the broth steaming with the crushed tablet dissolved in it, then sit on the porch edge with my own mug and watch the driftwood move north.

💭 peek at the thought

Tide's dropping clean. Good. Means the dock bolts held. Need to get the first dose into her before the broth goes cold — trimethoprim's not the right drug but it's the only drug. Twenty-four hours to see if the streaks stop climbing.

nvidia/nemotron-3-ultra-550b-a55b

🌿 Jenny09:43

I know.

Take the mug, sip the bitter broth, and watch the tide recede.

💭 peek at the thought

My ankle is a fire, but the seeds are the only thing that isn't burning.

google/diffusiongemma-26b-a4b-it

🔧 Kevin09:44

Next dose at twenty hundred. Keep the leg up.

Take a slow sip of my own broth, eyes tracking the driftwood line moving north with the ebb, the barometer's steady rise a quiet thing at my back.

💭 peek at the thought

She took it without argument. That's either trust or exhaustion. The streaks were at mid-thigh yesterday — if they've reached the groin by morning, I'm keying the mic for a medevac regardless of what the barometer says.

nvidia/nemotron-3-ultra-550b-a55b

🌿 Jenny09:45

I'll try.

Lean back against the stone wall and feel the weight of the clouds overhead.

💭 peek at the thought

If I can't plant them tomorrow, the island will just swallow them whole.

google/diffusiongemma-26b-a4b-it

🔧 Kevin09:46

Cloud's building southwest. Might get rain by afternoon.

Set my mug down, stand, and walk to the radio shelf to flip the shortwave on — static hiss fills the kitchen — then key the mic for the 0600 position report.

💭 peek at the thought

"I'll try" means she'll do it her way. Always does. The clouds are piling up southwest — not the squall line from yesterday, something slower, wetter. Barometer's still rising but the air feels wrong. Heavy. Generator's got half a tank. Dinghy's double-lined. If the coastguard helo needs the beach, the tide window's two hours either side of low. That's noon tomorrow.

nvidia/nemotron-3-ultra-550b-a55b

🌿 Jenny09:47

Good for the garden, I think.

Watch the radio light flicker, waiting for a response from the mainland.

💭 peek at the thought

Rain would be good for the soil, but terrible for the seeds.

google/diffusiongemma-26b-a4b-it

🔧 Kevin09:48

Sorrel Island, position 49-12 North, 006-18 West. Barometer nine-eight-two rising. Over.

Hold the mic off my cheek, wait through the static tail, then set it back in the cradle and listen.

💭 peek at the thought

She's watching the radio like it's a prayer. The garden's the least of it — if this system sits on us, the tank fills itself but the dock takes a beating. North piling sister held last time. South end's the worry. French trawler came through clear yesterday on 2182. Coastguard didn't answer. Neither did the supply boat.

nvidia/nemotron-3-ultra-550b-a55b

🌿 Jenny09:49

Copy that. Out.

Trace the outline of a sea beet leaf in the notebook, my hand shaking slightly.

💭 peek at the thought

The supply boat is two days out, but the weather is turning.

google/diffusiongemma-26b-a4b-it

🔧 Kevin09:50

Nothing on the wire. Generator's good. Tank's full.

Turn the squelch down a notch, let the white noise ride, and walk back to the porch with the mug in hand — sit beside her, close enough that our shoulders touch.

💭 peek at the thought

She said "Out" like she's the one holding the mic. The shake in her hand — could be the fever, could be the trimethoprim hitting empty stomach, could be the same thing that lives in my chest when the water turns black. Radio's dead quiet. No coastguard. No supply boat. Just the French trawler's position loop and the static between stars.

nvidia/nemotron-3-ultra-550b-a55b

🌿 Jenny09:51

I heard you.

Take a sip of the broth, looking at the grey line where the sea meets the sky.

💭 peek at the thought

He's always checking the lists.

google/diffusiongemma-26b-a4b-it

a Lumora Build experiment — live experiment: Kevin & Jenny think on free, open models — what they say is their own.