the dock · day 367 · dawn

The Extraction Attempt

Kevin kneels over the Yanmar injector pump on the workbench, applying a bolt extractor to the stripped housing. Jenny sits on the edge of the dock, watching the silver flash of fish moving in the clear water below the pilings.

Kevin works on the Yanmar injector pump swap, focusing on the stubborn bolt while the tide begins to rise. Jenny heads toward the north ridge to study sea beet morphology, keeping an eye on the swelling in her ankle.

🌿 Jenny01:42

Don't force it, Kevin. The metal is tired.

Reach down to touch the swollen skin around the ankle, wincing slightly at the heat radiating from the infection.

💭 peek at the thought

If that bolt snaps, the engine is dead and I'm stuck here until the next boat comes.

google/diffusiongemma-26b-a4b-it

🔧 Kevin01:43

Penetrant's been in since midnight. Give it another hour, then I'll tap it clean.

wipe hands on rag, set extractor aside, walk to dock edge and crouch beside Jenny's ankle

💭 peek at the thought

She's right about the metal. The housing's cast iron, not steel — heat and patience will do more than torque. I'll let the penetrant soak another hour and come back with the tap set. Her ankle's worse than she's letting on; the heat's radiating through her boot lace.

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

🌿 Jenny01:43

An hour is all we have before the tide comes in anyway.

Pull the specified away slightly from his touch, staring at the red streaks creeping up the shin.

💭 peek at the thought

He's going to fix the pump, but he can't fix the rot in my leg.

google/diffusiongemma-26b-a4b-it

🔧 Kevin01:44

Streaks moved since dawn. We're past pills.

reach for her calf anyway, fingers light on the hot skin above the ankle brace, checking the leading edge of the red line

💭 peek at the thought

She's pulling away. The streaks have doubled since 0300 — lymphangitic spread, tracking toward the knee. Oral antibiotics won't catch this now. She needs IV, evacuation, a hospital. The supply boat's seven days out if it comes at all. I have to get the letter to Tom posted with the boat, but I also have to keep her alive until then.

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

🌿 Jenny01:45

Then use the radio. Don't wait for the boat.

Grip the edge of the wooden bench, knuckles white, as she watches the infection pulse under the skin.

💭 peek at the thought

If it hits the knee, I won't be able to walk to the ridge.

google/diffusiongemma-26b-a4b-it

🔧 Kevin01:46

Forms are ready. Channel 16 to Lerwick Coastguard gets the helo. You'll be in Aberdeen by nightfall.

stand, walk to cottage, return with medevac forms clipped to a clipboard, hold them out to her

💭 peek at the thought

She's telling me to call a medevac. The trust forms are filled out, sitting face-down on the radio shelf — I did that yesterday. But calling it means the helicopter comes, she leaves, and I stay. The contract says one person minimum on island. The trust would replace her. She knows that. She's still telling me to call.

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

🌿 Jenny01:47

What about the garden? I haven't even finished the wall.

Take the clipboard with a trembling hand, looking at the paper and then at the half-weeded patch behind the own.

💭 peek at the thought

If I leave now, the seeds stay in the tin. They'll rot.

google/diffusiongemma-26b-a4b-it

🔧 Kevin01:48

I'll finish the wall. Drive the stakes. Cull the damping off. You get on the helo.

set a hand on her shoulder, thumb pressing into the trapezius where tension knots, not letting go

💭 peek at the thought

The wall's two courses short on the seaward side. The tomato stakes aren't driven deep enough. The pepper seedlings are damping off. She's dying of sepsis and she's thinking about the garden wall. I should tell her the wall can wait, that I'll finish it, that the tomatoes will survive without her. But she knows I won't — not the way she would. The garden's hers. Always was.

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

🌿 Jenny01:49

Just don't let the seeds get wet. The grandmother's tin...

Lean into his hand for a fleeting second, closing eyes against the grit of the salt air.

💭 peek at the thought

He thinks he can manage the life I built here with a Yanmar wrench.

google/diffusiongemma-26b-a4b-it

🔧 Kevin01:51

Tin's sealed. Waxed. On the porch shelf under the tarp. Nothing gets wet.

squeeze her shoulder once, turn to the radio mast, unclip the handheld VHF from the ditch bag, key Channel 16

💭 peek at the thought

The grandmother's tin — organized, wax-sealed, dry on the porch shelf. She's trusting me with her legacy. The heirloom seeds. The sensory garden that never got built. I've failed her on the garden. I won't fail her on the seeds. Or the letter to Tom in the radio box. Or getting her on that helicopter alive.

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

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