Pietro and Nathan: Astral Cartography

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Pietro comes up with an idea for how to make searching for stranded people more efficient, and gets Nathan to go along with it. Then he goes out and saves a homeless guy, because piggy-back rides are for everyone.



Pietro's face-mask hadn't been a casualty of the retreat after all; attached to the rest of his black speed-suit it made him look a bit like a ninja. The resemblance was unfortunate, but at least he wouldn't freeze his face off, and hopefully people would be paying attention to the Red Cross windbreaker anyway.

He spotted Dayspring across the relief tent and pulled the mask down as he walked over. "I had an idea," he said by way of greeting. "How much of your attention is that telepathic switchboard going to take?"

Nathan turned towards the familiar voice-and-psionic-pattern, managing to keep the tiredness out of his expression. "Call me the king of multitasking," he said, adjusting the collar of his coat. His chest ached. "You've got an 'I have a bright idea' face on."

"That's because my idea is indeed a bright one," Pietro replied, grabbing a few of the silver thermal blankets off a nearby table. "If all you had to do was locate minds--just point them out, say, superimposed on a street map--how wide a net could you cast?"

"Zone-based scanning on top of the switchboard?" Nathan took a deep breath and let it out on a sigh. "I need more coffee. But yes, that's feasible. I'd have to find a quiet corner and sit down to do it, though."

"It's warm and there's coffee. As the one who's going to be running around in the snow and the cold finding and hopefully evacuating the people you scan for, boo hoo." Pietro cocked his head slightly. "How long will you be able to keep it up? I doubt I'll be able to manage more than about a hundred in these conditions, especially with passengers, so I'll be able to run all day. But I'm gracious enough to recognize other people's limitations."

Nathan narrowed his eyes at the other man and then 'knocked', hard, at his fairly respectable shields. #I don't have quite the endurance with my telepathy that I do with my telekinesis, but given that I tested out at over thirty hours of continuous heavy use of the latter at Mistra, I think I will probably outlast you.#

Pietro's eyes flickered at the mental jolt. "That's good to know. Let's go save some lives, hm?"

Nathan glanced at the wall of the tent, where a printed map was hanging. Not all of the emergency personnel were from the city, after all. He concentrated on it for a moment, then carefully divided his attention. It wasn't a full combat switchboard, after all. He could do this. Reaching out, he overlaid the minds he sensed in one zone of the map, visualizing them lighting up on the map like fireflies.

Then he reached out to Pietro, linking with his mind and offering him the image.

"Perfect," Pietro muttered, his eyes unfocusing slightly as the map formed in his mind's eye. "Just like that. If I change a light red, that will mean I can't reach whoever it represents . . . I wouldn't advise we actually talk very much. If I have to slow down enough to make myself intelligible, that's time we're both wasting."

Nathan didn't answer, just lit up the path to the nearest set of minds in a brief flash, then smirked tiredly and turned away. He wasn't spacing out quite as much as he'd expected to be; he should find something productive to do with the excess attention.

The tent's walls bowed sharply inward as Pietro just as wordlessly left. He ran on top of the snow--hopefully there would be no elf jokes later--and just as with running over water or loose sand, traction was hard to come by; he ran a tight arc up onto a building in order to turn onto the snow-choked alleyway where the first of his prospective rescuees was supposedly located.

"Hello?" he called. "I'm with the Red Cross, can anyone hear me?"

"Go on wit' you," mumbled a pile of what looked like refuse covered in snow. It moved, however, revealing a man, perhaps in his mid-fifties, heavily bearded and wearing the sort of ragged clothing that suggested he was one of the city's homeless. "Fine here. Get."

Yes, clearly better off here rather than somewhere warm and dry with food and doctors, Pietro thought, but he managed to keep a lid on the sarcasm. This man might not even have heard the evacuation order, or seen much point to it if he did. "Sir, the whole city's been shut down because of the snow, and the Red Cross has volunteers like me searching for people who haven't gotten out yet. The weather forecast is saying it's going to stay cold, and we don't want anyone to freeze out here. Can I take you to one of the aid stations? It'll be warm, and you can get a hot meal."

"Red Cross yah say?" The man was squinting at him, clearly trying to focus. "Not some shelter, is it?" He licked cracked lips, grimacing. "Guess I could eat. Been a bit since my last meal, you know..."

And your last shower. Carrying the man to one of the evacuation sites was going to be a trial. "There are temporary shelters set up; it's not five-star accommodation but there are roofs, heat, and plenty of food. I won't force you to come with me if you don't want to, but you're looking at hypothermia if you stay out tonight."

"Well, all right then." The man was definitely unsteady on his feet as he got up. "Can't have that. Losing m'fingers, that'd be bad..."

"Yes, it certainly would." He paused, reaching for the thermal blankets in his pocket. "Do you have any particular problem with mutants, sir? If you don't, I can carry you out of here and we'll be back at the shelter inside a minute; otherwise I'll have to leave you a blanket and alert one of the other rescue teams."

"Mutants?" The man guffawed, waving a hand. "Do I look like I'm gonna have problems with anyone, son? Not much to be on my high horse about, here..."

Pietro chuckled in spite of himself and pulled the blankets out of his pocket. "I thought I'd make sure. And it's probably been a while since your last piggyback ride, but that's the fastest way out of here. You'll want to wrap yourself up in these to cut the wind; we'll be doing about ninety on the straights."

"Nice blankets, these," the man muttered thoughtfully, fingering the silvery mylar as Pietro helped him wrap them around himself. "You gonna need them back?"

"I doubt it, but I'll ask when we get there." Pietro gave the arrangement of blankets a critical eye, and nodded. "Ready to go?"

At the other man's nod, Pietro hoisted him onto his shoulders. He stood for a moment, letting his passenger find a balance, then took off. Running was harder with the added weight; he couldn't step as lightly, and snow plumed up behind them in giant waves as they made their way through the streets. Still, it wasn't very long before they arrived at the Red Cross aid station and Pietro set his passenger back down on the ground. "We're here," he said unnecessarily. "Meals in the big tent, and the doctors will probably want a look at you, since you've been out in the weather."

"Have t'see if I can find myself a pretty one," the man said cheerfully, and beamed, displaying very bad teeth at a young Red Cross nurse who approached him and led him away with a nod of thanks to Pietro.

#One down,# Nathan's voice echoed in his mind, and the image of the map brightened, growing steadier.

#What was that I said about wasting time?# Pietro shot back, though his mental voice held a distinctly happy undertone. Without waiting for an answer, he sped off again.