xp_logs | Log: Forge and Scott, Tuesday afternoon

Yet again, Scott deals with one of the students who thinks he knows better than the adults how to solve the Case of the Missing Magnetopath. Why he hasn't just used his eye lasers to fry them all is beyond me. Really. He'd have an excuse. Ahem.

Er, Forge offers his help, and Scott accepts with caveats that stymie our Boy Genius something fierce.

Somehow, he had actually managed to forget to include 'talking to
Forge' on his to-do list. Jean would be checking him to see if he was
running a fever or something. Scott couldn't help a slightly sardonic
smile as he headed towards the suite in question. Even things had Come
Up, really, he ought to have remembered. That was his job, after all.

Forge stretched out on the couch, headphones covering his ears.
Absently, his fingers wiggled in midair, his mind trying to figure out
how to convert the thundering guitar solo into piano.

In between the beats, Forge heard an odd knocking, just off the beat.
A second drummer? No, it was muted, almost wooden and - ah, the door.

"Coming," he announced, hitting the pause button and shucking his
headphones as he rolled over the back of the couch and to the door.

Scott raised an eyebrow at Forge as he opened the door, and mustered
up a brief smile. "You'd wanted to see me?" he asked. "Since this
conversation is happening a few days later than intended, I figured
I'd come to you."

"Aha," Forge said with a nod, turning and motioning Scott into the
room. Reassuming his lounging posture on the common room's sofa, he
idly tossed a small pillow up in the air, catching and tossing in a
slow rhythm.

"Lorna's missing," he said matter-of-factly, "and the fact that the
medlab's not locked down means you guys haven't brought her back yet.
Which leads me to believe that the Professor can't find her
telepathically. So I figure you've been looking in the wrong
direction."

Scott gazed at him for a moment, then sat down in one of the chairs.
"Wrong direction how?" he asked. "And yes, you can assume that the
Professor has been looking, although I'd prefer you don't make
assumptions about what the reaction would be if we did find her."

Forge just shrugged. "If she's acting abnormally like people say, most
likely explanation is that she's hurt or sick. If not, folks you bring
in often wind up that way, and then the medlab's locked off and
everyone talks all cryptic until we finally get to know what's going
on." Catching the pillow in one hand, Forge sat up. "It's okay,
really. I know you can't go around telling us kids exactly what you're
doing or where you're going to be. Same way my dad can't always
discuss what he's doing at work, lawyer-client privilege. You guys
have the same thing, it's security. I get it."

Reaching out with one hand, Forge pulled a small blanket off the back
of the couch, holding it on his lap. "As for finding Lorna, it's
simple. She's a magnetopath. Magnetics has a bigger ripple effect than
any other energy form, especially in an urban area where you have a
lot of big metal structures." As he spoke, Forge dropped a few empty
soda cans on the blanket. "Now, imagine these are buildings, bridges,
cars, whatever. And this blanket is the local magnetic environment. A
magnetopath," he reached under the blanket, moving one of the cans
around, "manipulates the local magnetic fields to produce different
effects. And magnetic force also obeys one major physical law, that
two objects acting on another leave a piece of themselves behind, it's
called transference. Following?"

"More or less," Scott murmured dryly, suspecting that he knew where
this was going. Forge had an Idea. He was tempted to ask him to skip
ahead to the practical application of that idea, but perhaps it was
best to hear the lead-up, in any case.

"Now," Forge explained, folding up the blanket and tossing it over the
back of the couch. "I've got enough stuff around here that Lorna's
used regularly with her powers. Hell, an entire kitchen full of
ferrous appliances and tools that have her magnetic 'fingerprints' all
over them. That's enough of a sample to build a simple penetrating EM
scanner that'll be able to sniff out any place she's been using her
powers. Trail of bread crumbs. I can have it built in an hour, and we
can be up and moving in the jet before nightfall if we hurry."

Scott blinked. "Whoa," he said. "Hold on just a second. The idea for
the scanner sounds... okay, not just fine, but perfectly plausible to
me, and I'm fully in favor of you building in. In fact," he went on,
"if there are any materials you need that we don't have, make a list.
But, you're going to have to ensure that someone else can operate it,
Forge, because you coming along to do so is not feasible."

Forge blinked, almost stunned. "But... but I can help," he stammered.
"I know how to do this, I can be useful..." He searched for some sign
of wavering behind Scott's glasses, but saw none. Finally, he sighed
and hung his head. "Fine. Your call. I'll build what you need, then
hang around playing innocent bystander where it's safe."

"Forge," Scott said steadily. "Look. If you can build this scanner, it
will be enormously useful. Look at the track record you've had
so far with the work you've done here. I don't doubt for a minute that
you can help. We just can't risk taking you with us if she is
acting... abnormally." He paused, then decided a little
straightforward truth might work best here. "If she's aggressive, and
we have to confront her, it could be a hell of a mess. And I don't
want to take you into a situation where we might not be able to
protect you."

Forge just shrugged, the motion exaggerated by his artificial arm.
Staring at the metal, he nodded. "Suppose I'd be a pretty big
liability either way. I mean, it's not like anyone could grab your
visor and steal it away, or chop Mr. Kylun into ribbons with his own
swords or, hell, just disassemble the plane in midair. But yeah, I'm
only seventeen, I'm extra-vulnerable. Best to just stay out of the
way."

He was who he was, even when he was tired, worried about far too many
things, and overly exasperated about others. So Scott tried again. "If
someone steals my visor," he said quietly, "they create a hazard to
themselves, as much as to my team. Kylun's swords aren't a danger to
him, although perhaps you should ask him for an explanation as to why.
And as for the plane... if all of the anti-magnetic attack measures
failed and it indeed get disassembled in mid-air, we would all be
screwed, yes. Although we also have a number of flyers and
telekinetics who could, you know, catch us... something we
train for."

"Fine," Forge said quietly, "you've made your point. No more arguments
from me. I'll have your scanner all ready to load up and take off by
this evening. I'll even put together an operator's manual. With
pictures."

Scott sighed to himself and rose. "Thank you," he said simply,
deliberately not reacting to Forge's last comment. Young male
pride... I remember it well. "We appreciate what you do, Forge.
You've helped a lot of people so far, and I expect you'll continue
right on doing that."

"Not as much as I can," Forge said, half-sarcastically, "but as much
as I'm allowed, anyway. But... thank you, sir. It's nice to be
appreciated." He reached down to make a small adjustment to his
prosthetic knee, then stood cautiously, testing the weight. "Anyway,
I'm off to the kitchen to grab some test samples and pop-tarts. Don't
let anyone with a pacemaker into Lab Six."

Scott blinked. "Check," he said after a moment, turning towards the
door. "Let me know when the scanner's ready. I'll get Sam to preflight
the 'Bird in a little while."

Forge nodded absently and gave a thumbs-up, rummaging through his
bookcase for technical manuals. Irritated as he may be, there was work
to do.