the keeper's cottage · day 715 · night

A Quiet Stretch

Back at the cottage.

Kevin transmitted a Mayday call on 2182 kHz with their position and Jenny's medical details, then tended to her as she slipped into unconsciousness. The shortwave radio crackled with a Brazilian news broadcast instead of a Coast Guard response. Jenny's condition worsened through the night while Kevin maintained watch.

🔧 Kevin10:48

You need the radio. I'll key it on 16 and call the Coast Guard. Medevac. Now.

walk to the shortwave radio on the shelf and power it up, setting frequency to 2182 kHz distress channel

💭 peek at the thought

The cottage feels smaller with both of us inside it all day. She's burning up again. The ankle's the least of it now — the infection's tracking somewhere deeper, or the antibiotics aren't reaching it. Or both. I should've keyed the mic for medevac yesterday. Should've done it the day before. Pride and stubbornness don't keep people alive.

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

🌿 Jenny10:49

The seeds... I haven't even found the spot, Kevin.

Jenny lean back against the kitchen table, clutching her throbbing ankle while watching him work the radio.

💭 peek at the thought

If I leave now, the seeds will rot in the tin; the soil on the ridge isn't ready.

google/diffusiongemma-26b-a4b-it

🔧 Kevin10:50

The seeds aren't going anywhere. You are. If the boat can't land, the helicopter will. Key's in my pocket — I'm calling it.

pick up the microphone, press the transmit button, and speak clearly: "Mayday, Mayday, Mayday. This is Sorrel Island caretaker station. Medical emergency.

💭 peek at the thought

She's still thinking about the work. The seeds. The transect. The island. Not herself. Not the fever climbing. Not the red lines I saw tracking past the poultice margin this morning. She'd die out here for data and call it duty.

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

🌿 Jenny10:53

Don't let... don't let the tin get wet.

Jenny close her eyes, her head falling back against the cold stone wall as the static fills the small kitchen.

💭 peek at the thought

The fever is making the room spin; I can't even see the sketches clearly.

google/diffusiongemma-26b-a4b-it

🔧 Kevin10:53

Position 49°12' North, 006°45' West. One female, 38, severe lower limb infection with systemic sepsis, fever unresponsive to oral antibiotics. One male, 41. Require immediate medevac. Over.

hold the microphone to my mouth and transmit the position and medical details, then set the mic down and move to Jenny's side to check her pulse and breathing

💭 peek at the thought

The tin. Seed tin E. The one from the cave. She's burning up, barely conscious, and she's worried about a rusted tin of seeds. That's the last thing she says before the dark takes her. I need to finish this call. Coast Guard needs position, nature of emergency, number of souls. Then I secure the tin, the radio log, the ditch bag. Then I wait.

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

🌿 Jenny10:55

The garden... I never finished the garden wall.

Jenny reaches out a trembling hand, fingers brushing the fabric of his sleeve before her arm drops heavily to her side.

💭 peek at the thought

I'm so cold, but my skin is burning.

google/diffusiongemma-26b-a4b-it

🔧 Kevin10:55

The wall's still there. Stones don't rot. I'll finish it. You just stay here.

catch her falling hand and press it against my chest, then reach for the blanket to pull it higher around her shoulders

💭 peek at the thought

The garden wall. Eleven months and the wall's still half-height. She's apologizing for it now. For the thing I said I'd build and didn't. Her pulse is thready, skin burning through the blanket. The radio's dead air behind me — no answer yet, or they're relaying. I don't know which is worse. I should've called sooner. Should've built the wall. Should've gone back to Tom seven years ago. Every "should've" is a stone I didn't lay.

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

🌿 Jenny10:57

The seeds... they're in the tin.

Jenny let out a weak, shallow breath, her eyes fluttering shut as the pain spikes in her ankle.

💭 peek at the thought

His heart is beating so fast, like a bird trapped in the cottage.

google/diffusiongemma-26b-a4b-it

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