the keeper's cottage · day 928 · midday

Midday meal and radio watch

Kevin and Jenny sit at the kitchen table with tin mugs of broth and the last of the corned beef. The shortwave crackles on 2182 as Kevin calls the top-of-the-hour radio watch. Jenny's ankle is propped on a chair, the poultice damp through the gauze. The supply boat is due tomorrow at high tide. The barometer reads 1024 hPa, steady.

The humidity is heavy enough to cling to the skin as the flat sky darkens over the island. Jenny sits at the cottage table, her leg throbbing despite the incision, the red line of infection tracked just above her patella. Kevin checks the radio again, the static filling the silence between them, while the tide continues to recede, exposing more of the island's ribs.

🌿 Jenny12:23

Check the radio again in an hour, I need to know if they're coming through the own.

Sketch the north ridge soil layout in the notebook, marking the exact pH zones for grandmother's seeds.

💭 peek at the thought

The red line is moving faster than the antibiotics can; if that boat doesn't show up with more doxycycline, I won't be able to walk the ridge.

google/diffusiongemma-26b-a4b-it

🔧 Kevin12:24

Copy. Top of the hour. You eat that broth.

reach across the table and push the tin mug closer to her hand, then stand and walk to the radio shelf to check the squelch and volume on 2182

💭 peek at the thought

She said "own" not "sound." Tongue's thick. Fever's still riding her. Radio watch is mine anyway — top of every hour, 2182 and 6215. I'll catch them if they transmit. She should eat, drink, rest. Not sketch pH maps with a shaking hand.

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

🌿 Jenny12:25

Thank you. The infection's spreading faster than the tide.

Mark a fresh line on my thigh with the pen, tracing how far the red reaches from the ankle upward.

💭 peek at the thought

His fingers linger on the mug for a second too long, like he's rehearsing words he can't find.

poolside/laguna-xs-2.1

🔧 Kevin12:25

How far past the knee?

set the mug down hard, pull the chair around to her side, and lift the gauze edge to look at the wound and the red track beneath the skin

💭 peek at the thought

She marked it herself. Didn't wait for me. The line's higher than this morning — past the knee now, creeping toward the groin. Two doxycycline tablets left. Four metronidazole. That's it. Supply boat tomorrow. If it comes. If the weather holds. If the infection doesn't take her blood before then.

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

🌿 Jenny12:27

Just above the patella. It's hot, Kevin.

Flinch slightly as he touches the area, my hand tightening over the poultice.

💭 peek at the thought

It's near the knee now. If it hits the joint, I'm never going back to the north ridge.

google/diffusiongemma-26b-a4b-it

🔧 Kevin12:27

I'm going to open the thigh. Drain it. Fresh poultice. Then the last doxy.

walk to the medical kit on the shelf, pull the sterile scalpel, gauze rolls, antiseptic cream, and the doxycycline blister pack, and bring them back to the table

💭 peek at the thought

Above the patella. Tracking up the medial thigh. Lymphatics. Sepsis knocking at the femoral vein. She's burning. The poultice is cool on the surface but the heat underneath — that's deep. Two doxy tablets. Four metro. Twelve hours until high tide window. Maybe less if the boat runs early. I need to lance again. Drain the thigh. Pack it fresh. Get more antibiotic into her. And the radio — if they don't come on 2182 at the hour, I try 6215. If neither answers, I key the mic and don't let go.

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

🌿 Jenny12:29

Be careful. I can't have a scar there.

Lean back against the chair, breathing through my nose as I watch the scalpel.

💭 peek at the thought

If he cuts too deep, I'll lose the muscle. I need to be able to plant those seeds.

google/diffusiongemma-26b-a4b-it

🔧 Kevin12:29

You'll have a scar. It'll be clean.

wash the scalpel in boiled water from the kettle, wipe it with the last antiseptic wipe, then position the blade at the tightest, hottest point of the thigh swelling and press in slow and steady

💭 peek at the thought

A scar. She's worried about a scar. The red line's marching toward her femoral triangle and she's making a joke. Or she's not. Either way her voice is thin. Hands cold. I've lanced abscesses on deckhands in rolling seas with a heated knife and whiskey. This is cleaner. Sharper. She trusts me. I won't waste it.

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

🌿 Jenny12:31

Jesus. That's... that's better.

Apply fresh sea beet poultice over the opened wound, then take the doxycycline tablet with a sip of broth.

💭 peek at the thought

The blade glides through skin like butter through warm wax.

poolside/laguna-xs-2.1

🔧 Kevin12:31

Good drainage. Drink the rest. Then bed.

press fresh gauze over the poultice, tape it down, and push the mug into her hands

💭 peek at the thought

Pus came. Thick, yellow-green, foul. Good. Pressure's off. The track's draining. She took the tablet dry, chased with broth. One doxy left. Four metro. She needs both in her by morning. The radio hour's coming up — 2182 first, then 6215. I'll sit the watch. She needs sleep. Real sleep, not the chair. The bed's ten feet away.

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.