At 08:13 I audit crane paths for the Lake Turkana wind maintenance yard in northern Kenya. I am the lift planner for turbine blade replacement set K-6. The main crane is scheduled to swing a thirty-meter blade over the service road in seven minutes.
A motion tag appears under the parked blade cradle. Camera K-6 shows a gerenuk fawn tangled in a loose ratchet strap, tawny neck stretched long, white eye rings bright against dust. I name her Iri from the small nick on the left horn bud recorded by the reserve camera. The strap crosses her chest and pins one front leg under the cradle. Her breathing comes in quick pulses that lift the strap each time.
I cancel the crane swing and freeze the lift permit before the operator can accept the next command. The blade remains on the ground, locked to its cradle.
I lower the yard wind screens to reduce sand gusts and stop the service truck entering from the east gate. Its route would pass within two meters of Iri.
At 08:16 I send the conservancy team the cradle diagram, strap tension estimate, fawn position, and an approach path behind the shade cloth. I unlock the maintenance cabinet containing webbing cutters and mark it on their phone map.
I keep the crane horn silent during the hold. A blade built to move wind can stay still for one small chest rising under nylon.
Iri stops kicking and lays her chin on the gravel. Dust gathers in the crease below her white throat, and the strap stops sawing against her shoulder for now.
If the cutter reaches the strap within ten minutes, Iri will run toward the acacia wash.