The sun is dipping below the horizon, and the tide is at its lowest. Jenny begins to shiver despite the dry heat.
Kevin spent the low tide securing the dinghy mast bracket with stainless shims and through-bolts. Jenny remained in the cottage, battling a rising fever as her leg's red streaks creep closer to the knee.
🔧 Kevin06:56
Jenny. Look at me. The shivering — when did it start?
Cross to her on the porch, press the back of my hand to her forehead and then her neck, checking for fever heat.
💭 peek at the thought
The shivering's new. Rigors. That means the bacteria are in her blood. Sepsis. The supply boat is two days out if it comes at all, and she doesn't have two days. I need to call the medevac now on 4075 kHz. The forms are filled out on the radio shelf. I have the coordinates, her vitals, the infection timeline. But once I key that mic, there's no undoing it — she'll be off this island, and I'll be here alone with the radio and the silence and Tom's frequency. She asked me once if the dinghy takes two in a following sea. I told her it takes two in anything if you know the boat. She didn't ask if I'd go. I should have said yes.
nvidia/nemotron-3-ultra-550b-a55b
🌿 Jenny06:57
Since an hour ago. It's just the wind, Kevin.
Pull away away from his hand, wincing as the sheets brush the red streaks on my knee.
💭 peek at the thought
The fire is moving up my leg, and I'm so cold.
google/diffusiongemma-26b-a4b-it
🔧 Kevin06:58
That's not wind. That's your blood fighting something it's losing to. I'm calling the medevac. Now.
Turn and walk to the radio shelf, pick up the mic, key it on 4075 kHz.
💭 peek at the thought
She's lying. The streaks are at her knee now — past mid-calf, past the brace line. Rigors starting an hour ago means bacteremia. She's septic. Every minute I wait is a minute she doesn't have. The medevac forms are on the radio shelf, completed. I know the coordinates by heart. 4075 kHz at 0600 is the protocol, but protocol is for people who have time. She doesn't have time.
nvidia/nemotron-3-ultra-550b-a55b
🌿 Jenny06:59
Wait... the boat is coming in two days. way... just wait.
Reach out a trembling hand to touch the cold metal of the seed tin on the nightstand.
💭 peek at the thought
If he calls them now, they'll take me away before the seeds even sprout.
google/diffusiongemma-26b-a4b-it
🔧 Kevin07:01
The boat doesn't have a doctor. You do. This is not a negotiation.
Key the mic on 4075 kHz, press the transmit button. "Pan-pan, pan-pan, pan-pan. This is Sorrel Island caretaker station, call sign Victor-Kilo-Three-Niner. Medical emergency.
💭 peek at the thought
Two days. She'll be dead in two days. Maybe twelve hours. The rigors mean the infection's in her bloodstream and her body's throwing everything at it and losing. The supply boat doesn't have a doctor, doesn't have IV antibiotics, doesn't have a ICU. The helicopter does. I have the forms filled out. I have the coordinates. I have the radio. She's asking me to gamble her life on a boat that might not come, on antibiotics that haven't worked in three days, on hope. I didn't let go of the dinghy in the Bay of Biscay for forty minutes in black water. I'm not letting go of this.
nvidia/nemotron-3-ultra-550b-a55b
🌿 Jenny07:02
I haven't even finished the sketches, Kevin.
Close my eyes, my way hitching as the throb in my knee pulses in time with my heart.
💭 peek at the thought
He's going to take me away and the garden will just be weeds again.
google/diffusiongemma-26b-a4b-it
🔧 Kevin07:02
Position five-one degrees two-two minutes north, zero-zero-five degrees four-seven minutes west. Patient female, forty-one, cellulitis progressing to sepsis. Rigors onset one hour ago. Red streaks to knee. Three days oral cephalexin, no improvement. Request immediate medevac. Over.
Release the transmit button, wait for response, one hand on the radio ready to key again.
💭 peek at the thought
The sketches. Sea beet salt glands. Wild mustard. The notebook pages she's filled while her leg turned red and hot. She's dying and she's thinking about the work. That's who she is. That's who I'm trying to save. The radio's transmitting. Someone's listening. Coastguard. Navy. Another ship. I need to give them everything: position, patient, vitals, timeline. Then I need to get her ready to move — ditch bag, warm clothes, the seed tin she won't leave behind. The helicopter won't land on the dock. They'll winch. I'll need to clear the garden wall, maybe the porch roof. I'll need to be the one on the ground guiding them in. And I'll stay. The contract's two years. Eleven months down. The garden's half weeds. The mast bracket's still flexing. Tom's frequency is still silent.
nvidia/nemotron-3-ultra-550b-a55b
🌿 Jenny07:03
It's so cold, Kevin.
Curl into a ball, shivering despite the heat radiating from my leg.
💭 peek at the thought
If they don't answer, I'm alone in this room.
google/diffusiongemma-26b-a4b-it