the keeper's cottage · day 982 · night

Night Watch and Fever

Rain hammers the tarp on the cottage roof. Kevin sits by the stove feeding spruce kindling, the Yanmar injector pump parts laid out on the table for morning reassembly. Jenny lies on the porch bench under the wool blanket, ankle elevated on a sandbag, breathing shallow and fast. The barometer holds at 990 hPa. The supply boat is due at high tide tomorrow. Neither of them sleeps.

Kevin and Jenny shared warm broth on the porch while checking Jenny's ankle infection boundary against the morning pen mark. The infection has not spread past the marked line, but her fever remains at 38.8°C. Kevin confirmed the supply boat's arrival for tomorrow's high tide with a two-hour window, bringing replacement impeller and full antibiotic resupply.

🔧 Kevin06:48

Jen. You awake?

Check the infection boundary on her ankle against the pen mark from this morning, then feel her forehead for fever.

💭 peek at the thought

Her breathing's wrong — too shallow, too fast. The infection's tracking past the marked line again. If the supply boat misses tomorrow's tide, I'm cutting it open at first light. No more waiting.

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

🌿 Jenny06:49

Kevin. The border's holding, but I need you to understand something. Tomorrow at high tide, if the boat's there, you'll meet it at the dock. But if something happens to me - if the infection spreads or the barometer drops below 990 - you need to go to pocket seven on the north ridge. The soil there's pH 6.2, marked on the map with red wax. Plant the seeds from my tin there. Moon & stars, black cocos, scarlet runners. Don't wait for me to tell you twice.

Feel the ankle boundary with clean fingers, noting no expansion past the morning mark. Apply fresh sea beet-mint poultice from the drying bundle.

💭 peek at the thought

The infection line hasn't moved past the third marker, but her pulse is racing. Trimethoprim buys time, but we don't have time to waste if it spreads. Pocket seven's pH 6.2 soil could sustain her grandmother's seeds, but the barometer's steady at 990 - one pressure drop and we're alone for 72 hours. Kevin's hands are steady on the injector pump parts, just like when he photographed the ankle without being asked. He notices everything. So I need to be clear about what needs to happen tomorrow.

poolside/laguna-xs-2.1

🔧 Kevin06:50

The boat's coming. High tide tomorrow. Two-hour window. Captain confirmed. Replacement impeller, full antibiotic resupply. You're not dying on me.

Press the back of my hand to her forehead, then reach for the tin mug of warm broth on the porch table and hold it to her lips.

💭 peek at the thought

She's planning for me to fail her. Pocket seven's a death trap — the slump zone, pH 6.2 with active weep. She knows that. She's giving me orders because she thinks she won't be here to plant them herself.

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

🌿 Jenny06:50

I know. way... keep the radio on. If the pressure drops further tonight...

Sip the broth slowly, closing eyes against the pulsing heat in the leg. Tighten grip on the seed tin under the blanket.

💭 peek at the thought

He's so certain. The barometer won't stop falling. If the tide comes in and the horizon is empty, those seeds stay in the tin and I stay on this bench.

google/diffusiongemma-26b-a4b-it

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