Enter the Janitor (The Cleaners) (Volume 1) (3 page)

Chapter Three

Ben grumbled at Francis’ reflection in the glass wall of the Employee Orientation room. “Only tell me she’s not what I think she is if she ain’t.”

Francis’ brow twitched and his lips thinned. They peered through a seamless floor-to-ceiling window to the white-walled room on the other side, complete with padded cot and tiny sink. The new recruit lay on the cot, dressed in a plain cotton robe. Aside from the occasional twitch, she’d remained unconscious since they’d deposited her there twelve hours ago.

The Ascendant consulted his clipboard. “Analysis confirmed the nature of her power. She’s a Catalyst. Likely an inherent gifting that remained dormant until her survival instincts and proximity to your energies woke it.” He scanned the compiled data. “Danielle Hashelheim. Twenty-two years old. Biology major, junior year, with an admirable GPA. Has a marked history of mysophobia, a variant of OCD.”

“Myso-whatsit now?”

“Mysophobia. Germophobic behavior.”

“She don’t like Germans?”

Francis sighed, and Ben hid a grin.

“Germs, Benjamin. She’s afraid of germs and contamination. Despite that, she’d make a fine apprentice, given the proper mentor.”

“Maybe.” Ben rocked on his heels. “But I sure wanna weep for whoever gets stuck with this precious little cupcake.”

Francis frowned and eyed him sidelong. Ben wondered what that look was for, and then recognized it as pity. He gawped in realization.

“You ain’t serious.”

“Effective immediately, she’s your protégée for the next year.” Francis’ stiff tone made it clear what he thought of the assignment. “Or until the Board decides she’s gained enough control over her powers to be an independent contractor.”

“You’re ribbin’ me. That just ain’t possible. What about …” Ben found himself scratching at his right arm and forced his clenched hands to his sides. “You know my last review by the Board. Even if they did give me back training duty, I ain’t gonna take it. I refuse.”

“Normally I’d echo your sentiment,” Francis said. “Yet despite my best efforts, the Chairman convinced the Board you’re the best candidate.”

“I don’t care what he did. Ain’t no way I’m doin’ this, even if I have to mop the Sewers from one end to the other. You can shove whatever orders they gave back up your puckerhole.”

Francis shook his head as he scribbled a note. “Pucker … hole. Why do you persist in coming up with new vulgarities? You know the Board will simply add them to the censor list.”

Ben tapped his temple. “Gotta make sure the ol’ lump still has a spark or two left. Now stop tryin’ to distract me. I ain’t budgin’ for nothin’. This girl ain’t getting anywhere near me.”

“All variables have been considered,”
said a new voice
. “You were unanimously voted to be her mentor.”

A pale face gleamed in the depths of the glass, matching neither Ben nor Francis’ reflection. Ben glared at the projection, wishing he could wipe it away like any other unwanted smudge.

“Destin.” He forced his tone to be a shade more respectful. “Chairman. It’d make my day if you told me Francis here is a few feathers short of a duster.”

“Ascendant Francis’ sensibility remains intact,”
Destin said.
“You are her caretaker.”

“You do remember what happened to my last apprentice? The one who drowned with his head stuck in a toilet? And that’s before—”

“Any danger has been deemed insignificant compared to that which she presents to herself and those around her. You were and, in my opinion, still are one of the most capable janitors we have, despite the unfortunate circumstances.”

“That’s a real squirmy way of puttin’ it.”

“Sir,” said Francis, “this girl needs careful handling. Janitor Benjamin is hardly known for his subtlety and empathy.”

Destin’s smile reminded Ben of an alligator’s—starting and stopping at the teeth.
“Francis, your last performance review included the highest praise of many attributes. Subtlety and empathy were not among them either. That’s not the point here.”

“What is the point?” Ben asked.

“The point is I fought for you on this, Benjamin, and would not appreciate my confidence being misplaced.”

“Shoulda figured your reputation would be involved.”

“Consider this a qualified apology for the way we once treated you.”

“An apology? Somehow it ain’t feelin’ like one.”

“Despite your unorthodox views and position, I know you will provide the firm guidance that few, if any of the other Cleaners, could give Ms. Hashelheim. If you encounter any truly serious issues in the course of her training, I am making myself available, despite my busy schedule. But I know you won’t disappoint.”

Destin’s visage faded. Ben let his forehead thump against the pane where the Chairman’s face had been. “I’m too old for this.”

Francis coughed. “I once swore to never doubt the wisdom of the Chairman. In this case, however, I could make an exception. The consequences of fouling a job should never include being given more responsibility.”

Ben glowered at him. “You think this is ’cause of what happened in the library? You think I bungled that and this is some sorta punishment? Didn’t Destin review the situation?”

“I gave your report all due consideration,” Francis said, “and declined to pass it on to the Chairman.”

“Meanin’ you put it through the shredder.”

“The Chairman can’t be distracted by every fanciful account of reanimating blot-hounds.”

“Fanci—for Purity’s sake, Francis, you think I’d let any regular blot-hound get the better of me? That thing not only popped back up after havin’ its core shattered, it at least tripled in strength and blasted through my defenses like they was made of soggy newspaper.”

The Ascendant looked pointedly at Ben’s right arm. “With your current condition, I’m not surprised your measures proved inadequate.”

Ben grabbed the man’s lapel. “What’d I warn you about makin’ this personal?”

A thump made them both jump back. As they’d argued, Dani had woken and rolled off her cot. She’d run full-tilt into the glass in an attempt to flee, but rebounded and fell onto her butt, dazed. Her stunned phase passed quickly, though, and she shoved back up, fists pummel-ready.

“You mother*******!” she shouted. Her face screwed up as her voice failed to complete the curse.

Ben sighed and crossed his arms. “This oughta be fun.”

She pounded on the glass. “Let me out, you ******* lunatics! You ****faced ******!” She clapped a hand over her mouth and retreated a step.

Ben grinned. “Well, now. We might just get along after all.”

Dani tucked fists under her arms as she inspected the boundaries of the Orientation room. Glancing down, she appeared to notice her bare feet for the first time. With a yelp, she leaped back onto the cot and huddled against the wall. Her eyes clenched shut, and a tremor rippled the air.

“Hoo boy. Is she—”

Water spouted out of the sink and struck the ceiling. Within seconds, a miniature thundercloud formed, complete with tiny flashes of lightning. Sheets of rain blew about, though Dani remained untouched in the midst of it.

“She’s triggered,” Francis said, as if commenting on the price of milk. “Must be the fright of her unfamiliar environment.”

“Ain’tcha gonna neutralize her?”

“That’s your job now.” The din within the holding room grew. “I suggest you hurry.”

Growling, Ben rapped on the glass until Dani peeked with one eye. Even through the storm, her fury shot his way like a sniper bullet. Her lips moved in silent threat, and thunder rumbled in sync.

“I know you can hear me,” Ben said, unzipping a large pouch on one pants leg. “So I’m gonna make you a deal. See this?”

He pulled a bottle of gel from the pouch. Not the same one from the library, which had melted into the blot-hound; he’d come bearing a replacement as a peace offering.

She fixed on it like a magpie spotting a piece of tinfoil. Her fingers twitched, and Ben thought she might launch herself against the glass again to try and grab it.

“Thought you might be wantin’ this. But the only way you’re gettin’ it is if I hand it over. And I ain’t comin’ in there until you settle down.” Ben pointed at the thundercloud brewing just below the ceiling. “Which mean that needs to go bye-bye.”

“Bye-bye?” Francis echoed. “Benjamin, really …”

“Hush it. If she’s my apprentice, I can use baby language if I wanna.” He refocused on Dani. “So what’s it gonna be?”

He waved the bottle back and forth, and she followed the motion. As her focus anchored on the offered sanitizer, the indoor cloud evaporated and the waterspout trickled off. Drains sucked away whatever liquid had collected on the floor.

While leery of another outburst, Ben stuck his palm to the window. A pane of the glass slid aside and he slipped through. Edging toward her, he held the bottle at arm’s length as if offering a hunk of meat to a rabid wolf.

As soon as it came within reach, she snatched the bottle up, popped the top, and squeezed a third of it into her hand. Ben’s eyes watered as she slopped the gel onto her arms, head, and feet with gleeful abandon.

After every last visible bit of skin was coated, a great weight seemed to lift from her shoulders.

“See?” He patted her back. “All better.”

She spun and screamed. “Don’t touch me, you son of a *****!”

The smack sent his ears ringing. He grabbed her wrist to block a second shot. “Now, princess, let’s not make this personal.”

“You abducted me, you *******! That’s pretty ******* personal.”

“You burned down and flooded your library. You might wanna say thanks.”

“Thanks? Are you ******** me?”

“If we’d left you there, you’d either be locked up in jail or the loony bin.”

“What the **** are you talking about?”

Ben ran a hand over his growing bald spot.
Oh, this is gonna be jolly.

Her nose wrinkled as she checked him over, obviously unimpressed with his janitor outfit and black rubber boots. He had about a foot on her, but her ferocity more than made up for the difference. He scratched his stubbled chin and figured he might’ve made a better impression if he shaved more than once a week. Or looked forty years younger. No doubt she’d already filed him away as having dentures and wearing diapers. Not too far from the truth.

“Where am I?” she asked at last. “What’s going on? And why can’t I ******* swear? Did you implant some sort of chip in my brain?”

“You’ve watched too much sci-fi, princess. Chips in the brain? That’s ridiculous. Naw. There’s a company-wide spell in place. Called a foul-filter. The Board figured it was … what’s the word? Unbefittening?”

“Unbecoming,” Francis offered from outside.

Ben snapped his fingers. “That’s the one. Unbecomin’ of us Cleaners to have dirty mouths. Gotta keep the image as sparkly as possible.”

She poured another helping of gel and worked it between her fingers. “What the **** are you talking about?”

“It’s a little complicated,” Ben said. “To lay it out plain, you tapped into a latent talent during that little fracas at the library. Francis and I,” he nodded to the Ascendant, who bowed, “brought you back here to recover and to … train.” He forced that last word out through clenched teeth.

Dani stared at some distant point. “Latent talent?” she echoed, monotone.

“Yup. Latent talent. Power. Magic. Spellwork. Energy manipulation. Supernatural manifestation of willpower. Mega-weird stuff that sends the common folk freakin’ and spawns a whole lotta tabloid headlines. Whatever you wanna call it.”

“Magic? That’s impossible. Utter bull****.”

He cupped a hand around an ear. “Wossat? Couldn’t rightly hear you. Some impossible magic must’ve got in my ear.” He sighed. “For a student, I figured you’d get past this mental roadblock a little faster. ’Specially figurin’ you was the one who just torched and flooded a library.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Am I in trouble? Is that it? You guys are cops?”

“Not quite.” Ben sat on the edge of the cot, and she pulled back further. “Look, Dani—can I call you Dani?”

“No.”

“Thanks. So, Dani, you’re what we call a Catalyst. You trigger natural disasters on a minor scale. It’s one of the most dangerous and rare junctions of power around these days. Plenty of folks, ’specially Scum, are gonna want to use that. You’re lucky we got to you first.”

She eyed him as if he spoke in a foreign language. Then she shook her hair out and sat up straighter. “I want to call my parents.”

“No, you don’t.”

She scowled. “Shut up. If this is some sort of prison, I deserve a phone call.”

“It ain’t a prison,” he said. “It’s your new home base. At least until you get a handle on that nasty power of yours.”

“Give me my phone call!”

Ben looked to Francis, who shrugged and drew a cell phone—white of course—from a jacket pocket. He tossed it to Ben, but Dani snatched it in mid-air. She’d tucked both hands inside their sleeves so she could hold the phone without touching it. As she stabbed at the numbers, Ben walked outside to wait.

“A’ight. But I warned you.”

O O O

Dani barely noticed as the janitor—or whoever he really was—left the cell and a glass panel slid into place behind him. As the line rang, she tried to force her thoughts into a logical order so she could make a coherent plea for help, but nothing made sense. Janitors? Magic? Pipe monsters terrorizing her college? Had someone drugged her coffee?

The connection clicked, and her mother’s voice bubbled out of the speaker.

“Hello?”

“Mom? It’s—”

“Danielle! I just got your message. So exciting. So wonderful. Of course, I understand you’ll have to miss the family reunion, but such is the price of pursuing your dreams.”

Dani’s mental equilibrium tilted near to capsizing. “Message? Mom, what the **** are you talking about?”

“Oh, don’t tease, silly girl. Now, I’m sad too that we can’t have a going away party, but considering it’s such a rare opportunity, you don’t want them rescinding the offer.”

“Mom, please—stop—just ******* stop and listen.” As with all previous attempts, the curse formed in her head but vanished somewhere between her brainstem and tongue. “Whoever you heard from, it wasn’t me. I’ve been abducted.” She looked over to Ben, who waved and smiled. “They’re talking about magic and … and this guy at the college library died. I mean really died and …”