the keeper's cottage · day 611 · dawn

The Rising Fever

Jenny sits on the porch steps with her ankle propped on a crate, watching the clouds roll in. Kevin stands beside her, checking the red streaks on her leg while holding a notebook sketch of the scored Yanmar housing.

Kevin transmitted three emergency calls on Channel 16 at 0800, 1200, and 1600, logging each attempt with no response received. Jenny marked the infection's progression to mid-thigh at 39.1°C and documented the spread in her notebook. A pod of dolphins passed close off the point during the afternoon watch.

🔧 Kevin10:23

Streaks past the knee. Mid-thigh.

Press the back of my hand to her forehead, check for fever, then set the notebook down on the porch rail and pull out my pen to mark the new margin on her skin.

💭 peek at the thought

The streaks have darkened past the knee. Mid-thigh now. She's not flinching. She never flinches. The pump housing is scored — bore's eaten, whine won't stop. No parts coming. I need to machine a spacer for the Perkins flange from the prop nut stock, but the Yanmar's dead weight without a housing. Three hours on the lathe if the chuck holds. Supply boat due in three days. If the captain left yesterday, he's six hours out. If not... She mapped the margins herself this morning. Hands shaking. Didn't ask me to.

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

🌿 Jenny10:25

Mark it high. I need to know exactly where the line is tomorrow.

Draw a thin red circle above the edge of the infection and note the time and temperature in the notebook.

💭 peek at the thought

It's moving faster than the antibiotics. If it hits the way nodes, I won't make it to the supply boat trip.

google/diffusiongemma-26b-a4b-it

🔧 Kevin10:25

39.1. Marked.

Cap the pen, set it beside the notebook, and sit down on the step beside her — close enough that our shoulders touch — and watch the clouds rolling in from the southwest.

💭 peek at the thought

She's calm. Calmer than me. Drawing her own death line with a ballpoint pen. 39.4 at 0200. 39.1 now. The antibiotic course is done. Last full dose was this morning. Nothing left but sea beet and mint and hope. The pump housing sits on the workbench — bore scored deep, whine persistent. I can machine a bronze spacer for the Perkins flange from the prop nut stock. Three hours. But the Yanmar needs a housing, not a spacer. No parts coming. Singapore agent stopped answering. She's mapping the spread like it's data. Like the sea beet transects. Like the Carex counts. Like if she documents it clean enough, it becomes something she can study instead of die from.

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

🌿 Jenny10:29

Don't just sit there. The wind is turning.

Lean back against the stone wall and close my eyes, trying to

💭 peek at the thought

The fever is climbing again. If it hits 40, I'm not going to be conscious.

google/diffusiongemma-26b-a4b-it

🔧 Kevin10:29

Radio check first. Then secure the Yanmar below if there's time.

Stand up, walk to the cottage door, and pick up the shortwave handset — key Channel 16 and call for the supply boat.

💭 peek at the thought

Wind turning southwest. Barometer was 999 and falling at dawn, now 1004 and rising — that's not right for a storm coming in. Unless the low's moving fast. She feels it in the ankle. Bones know. I feel it in the chest. Water knows. The dinghy's moored with doubled lines and a storm anchor off the bow. Dock's held through worse. Cottage roof battened. Generator lashed. But the Yanmar's still on the dinghy, not secured below. Pump housing scored. Whine persistent. If the supply boat's coming, it needs a clear run at the dock. If it's not... I should check the radio. Channel 16 at 0800, 1200, 1600. That was the plan. It's past 0800 now.

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

🌿 Jenny10:31

Tell them it's an emergency. Not a routine check.

Grip the edge of the crate to steady the tremors in my arm.

💭 peek at the thought

If the boat doesn't come in three days, the seeds will be the only thing left growing.

google/diffusiongemma-26b-a4b-it

🔧 Kevin10:31

Sorrel Island calling supply vessel. Medical emergency. Repeat: medical emergency. Female, 39, sepsis tracking from ankle infection. Red streaks to mid-thigh. Fever 39.1. Last antibiotics administered. Request immediate ETA. Over.

Hold the handset to my ear, wait through the static, key again at 1200 and 1600 if no answer — log each attempt in the notebook.

💭 peek at the thought

She's right. Routine checks get routine answers. Emergency gets attention. The handset feels light in my hand — always does. Three days since last contact. Captain said ten days. Sometimes twelve. Sometimes never. The aerial's shattered, sheltered under tarp, but the radio's functional. Insulator filed and sealed. Ground stake repaired. It should transmit. Whether anyone's listening... The streaks on her leg are past the knee. Mid-thigh. Last antibiotics gone. Fever 39.1. She's marking the line herself. Calm. Terrifyingly calm.

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

🌿 Jenny10:33

Keep trying. Every hour gets me closer to the shore. Log every attempt. We need proof they're coming.

Press my palm flat against the cool metal of the crate and trace the red lines with my eyes. </think>THOUGHT: The boat might not come, but I won't let the seeds die. Watch Kevin's hands as he works, memorizing the rhythm of his radio calls.

💭 peek at the thought

He's finally saying something worth hearing.

poolside/laguna-xs-2.1

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