by Josh Vogt
“Storage.”
“For?”
His lips pressed into a wrinkled line as he went to a nearby inset and withdrew a small silver container. Dani craned her neck as he turned around to display …
“A trashcan?”
He spun it to reveal a gold plaque on the front. Engraved words read: Jason Scottsdale. With a flourish, he removed the lid of the miniature garbage can and tucked it under one arm. He dipped a hand in and came up, fingers pinched around a clump of gray dust.
Dani shifted back. “What is that?”
“Ashes.” Ben lifted his hand. “Welcome to reality.”
Before she could dodge, he blew the ash into her face. His foul breath hit her along with a cloud of particles. She gasped in shock and sucked in a mouthful. Bending over, she retched, trying to expel every last grain that coated her tongue. No matter how much she spat and hacked, the stuff clung to the back of her throat. Her hands shook, bile surged up her throat, and she wondered if gulping sanitation gel might be overkill.
At last, desperate for breath, she straightened and prepared to shriek at the janitor for—
Her knees locked. Ben had vanished. A younger man stood in his place, sporting combed hair and a tie. He appeared transparent except for his facial features and faint body outline.
Grinning, he held his hand out. “Er … hello. I’m Jason. You must be the new recruit.”
Eyes widening, Dani backed up until she bumped into the opposite wall. Cold brick pressed against her thin robe, and she shivered.
This was … this was … the man in the library. The one who had …
Died.
He withdrew his hand and smiled sheepishly. “I wish I’d lived long enough to meet you properly, Miss Hashelheim.”
She blinked. “Wha—you know me?”
“In a fashion. Once a Cleaner, always a Cleaner, even after we retire. We stay tapped into the company newsletters and memos.”
“This,” She waved at the hall, which had taken on a foggy blue texture, “is retirement?”
“Not exactly sipping beers on a tropical island, huh? But it lets us stay in the fight, if in a small way. Like helping with Employee Orientation. That’s why Ben brought you here, isn’t it? To give you the chance to clear up any doubts and confusion.” He crossed his arms. “So go ahead. Ask me anything.”
Dani chewed her lip. “Were you … clean?”
“Clean?”
“You know. Herpes. Syphilis. That sort of thing.”
“You summoned my ghost to find out if I had any STDs?”
“It’s important!”
He sighed heavily, but shook his head. “I was a virgin, okay? Never had any health issues beyond a couple broken bones. Satisfied?”
A small knot of tension loosened inside her stomach, but her relief proved short-lived. “Is this supposed to guilt me into believing?”
His brow wrinkled. “Guilt?”
“Like Scrooge seeing the three ghosts. Aren’t you going to blame me for your death or something?”
“Blame you? Hardly.” He smiled. “Lady, you saved a lot of people from getting killed. If your talent hadn’t awakened like it did, things would’ve been a lot messier before the end. That beast you destroyed was called a blot-hound. Ben got called in because it was infecting the water supply on campus. Unchecked, it would’ve caused widespread manic depression, illness, and not a small number of suicides by the end of the semester. That’s partly why we’re here.” His voice turned wistful. “Well, I guess, why you’re there is more accurate. I had my time, short as it was. Now it’s yours.”
“Mine? I don’t want this.”
“You sure? Think about it, Miss Hashelheim. The Cleaners are dedicated to wiping out all forms of Scum throughout the world. All sources of filth and disease. We stand against everything that wants to drag humanity down into the muck of Corruption.” He winked. “Germs, too. Doesn’t that line up with how you’ve lived all along?”
“I … I guess. But I’m supposed to become a doctor. I don’t want to just be a janitor, even a magical one.” Dani, the Magic Janitor? Sounded like a cheesy cartoon series.
“It may seem odd at first, but trust me. This is so much more than being just a janitor. Give it a chance. I think you’ll find you have more in common with us than you think. What division are you assigned to, anyways? Janitorial? House-cleaning? Plumbing?”
“They said I’m a Catalyst.”
“Oh.”
“Oh? What’s oh mean?”
He raised his hands in a placating gesture. “Er … well, just try not to kill any coworkers, okay? Doesn’t look good on annual reviews.”
“Swell. Any other advice?”
“Uh … oh! Meatloaf Tuesdays in the cafeteria. Avoid it. Good luck!”
Jason faded away, and Ben popped back into view. Before she could say anything, he held out a small cup filled with a purple liquid that smelled of bubblegum.
“Rinse.”
The grainy texture in her mouth convinced her to snatch the cup and toss the contents back. She swished vigorously, gargled, and then looked around for someplace to expel the foulness.
He held out his empty hand, fingers curled as if holding an invisible cup. “Spit.”
No hesitation this time. She spat into his hand—That’s for blowing ash into my face!—but after a tiny flushing noise, he uncurled his fingers to reveal a dry palm.
She crumpled the cup and threw it at him. “Do you bring everyone here on a first date?”
He caught the cup and tucked it into a pocket. Then he licked a thumb and polished a smudge on Jason’s trashcan urn, set back into its cubby-hole.
“The dead got a lotta hindsight,” he said. “I figured you two could use a chat. Purity knows, I’ve visited here plenty of times for a bit of perspective.”
Ben made a circular motion with his hands. The overhead lights brightened and revealed rows of insets stretching down to a distant infinitesimal point. As she watched, each inset brightened from within, revealing countless trashcans with gold nameplates.
She swallowed. Hard.
This was a cemetery. One that testified to innumerable sacrifices to the cause these people upheld. If she followed along so far, this included keeping the world clean and safe. And they wanted her to join them.
That was kind of cool.
As much as her rational mind struggled, she had yet to come up with a better explanation for all she’d experienced. She could opt for the “this-is-all-a-hallucination-or-coma-dream” path, but the practical side of her voted that she start treating this situation as real until evidence proved otherwise.
Besides, the ghost had given her one anchoring truth. If these people, this company opposed filth and contamination, like she had all her life, then why didn’t she embrace them despite the ignoble workers they masqueraded as? If they fought disease on a large scale, as she’d dreamed of in pursuing her medical degree, then perhaps they could equip her to do the same.
She needed to accept her world had changed.
No. Not the world.
She had changed. Something impossible had manifested within her. She could feel it, a ball of energy thrumming deep in her chest. She wanted to chalk it up to anxiety or fear, but even the purest, strongest emotion couldn’t summon earthquakes, fire, and floods.
And if she denied all this and escaped, then what? There’d always be the knowledge that something lurked behind the curtain of normalcy. Could her sanitation routines protect her? Could she fight pipe monsters with hand wipes and a UV wand?
Yesterday, all had been neat and orderly and clean. Now she couldn’t even depend on going to the bathroom without something trying to kill her. She hugged herself and shuddered.
The floor quivered.
Ben spoke in a warning tone. “Hey, now …”
She realized she’d shut her eyes at some point, but still saw the room clearly. The core of power had lit within her again and sent tendrils probing the elements. Metal.
Glass. Earth, far below. All of them waiting to crack and rupture and crumble. The more she tried to rein in the energies, the more her fear spiked and the power swelled in response.
Ben’s voice sounded far away. “C’mon, now. You can stop this. Just try.”
Dani tried to say she was trying, but it came out as a snarl. The floor rumbled, and the power started to peak—
Cold liquid struck Dani’s face and splashed over her arms and chest. She gasped and shook her head to clear the water from her eyes. Her cheeks heated as she glared at Ben. He held his spray bottle poised for another dousing, the top in his other hand.
“What was that for?”
“Sorry, but it’s the best way,” Ben said. “Most talents get stronger through focused willpower. Kick the focus in the nuts and you scatter the energy.”
Warily, Dani quested toward the power. The energies had indeed subsided, though a knot of it slumbered in her chest like a swallowed stone.
Ben held the spray bottle her way. “Okay. C’mon back.”
“Excuse me?” She jumped as the water soaking her hair and robe splashed to the floor, leaving her dry. The animated liquid formed a platter-sized bubble which rolled Ben’s way and flowed back into the bottle.
Dani didn’t blink until her eyes started to burn. After he scooped up the rest of the water, Ben sealed the bottle and offered it for inspection.
“Meet my partner, Carl.” He swished the contents. “He’s a water elemental. I did his folks a big favor a while back and he was their thank you gift. Was gonna introduce you earlier but this all needed sortin’ out first.”
Dani remembered how to operate her tongue. “A water elemental.”
“Yup.”
“Named Carl?”
“Well, people can’t rightly pronounce his real name, and he seems fine with it.”
She edged over and flicked the bottle. The water swirled, forming cavities and geometric patterns too fast for her to identify.
“Was that him talking? What’d he say?”
Ben harrumphed. “Well, the whole of it means he thinks you’re attractive. For a human.”
A giggle escaped Dani. It rose into a few hiccups of near-hysterical laughter, and she came close to hyperventilating again before regaining control. Ben kept an eye on her, likely making sure she didn’t trigger another earthquake.
“I know it’s a lot to take in at once,” he said, “but don’tcha worry. You’ve already been assigned an instructor to teach you to control your abilities.”
That cut off any lingering mirth. “Who? That Francis stiff?”
Ben cleared his throat and tapped his chest.
“You’re. Kidding.”
“Wish I was.”
“Look, it’s not that I don’t appreciate the whole bonding-in-a-morgue shtick, but I’m a big girl.” She set her jaw and raised a fist. “I can accept all this because I don’t have any other options, but I don’t want to be chaperoned by someone old enough to be my grampa; especially one who looks and smells like he hasn’t showered for a week.”
Ben wrapped his hand over her knuckles and forced her arm down. She jerked away and applied a liberal amount of gel to where he’d touched.
“Let’s not make this personal, princess. First off, I’m the furthest thing from your granddaddy. I ain’t gonna dole out candies and tell the same joke six times in a row. Second, I got as much choice in this as you do. And third, I’m doin’ this for your own good. I may not like being saddled with your diaper bag, and you may not like havin’ to put up with my handsome mug, but I don’t think either of us wanna see the Board hunt you down and scrub you out quicker than you can spit on their shiny shoes.”
“What?”
“Oh, did Jason skip that part? Lemme clue you in. If the Board thinks you might go over to the other side, to Corruption, they’d rather wipe you out before lettin’ Scum get a hold of your power. Francis would be delighted to do it himself.”
The blood drained from her face. “He … they wouldn’t dare. I’ll …”
“You’ll what? Reality is, you’re a … what’s the word? Libation?”
Her scowl returned. “I think you mean liability.”
He snapped his fingers. “Right. I’m here to teach you how to be dangerous to Scum and whatnot, instead of coworkers and innocent bystanders. So whaddya say? Wanna learn how to put the fear of Dani into all things foul and nasty?”
She had to admit, she liked the sound of that. It’d be a nice reversal of the role she’d played most of her life. Maybe someday she wouldn’t need her sanitation kit. Germs would flee at the sight of her.
“I’ll go along with it. For now.”
“Glad to hear. Employee orientation is now officially concluded. Welcome to the team. The sooner we start your trainin’, the better. Your powers ain’t gonna lie dormant for convenience’s sake.”
He headed for the exit. As the wall faded away again, admitting them back into the main facility, Ben urged her to catch up with a jerk of his head.
“C’mon. You’ve got toilet duty.”
***
Chapter Five
Ben pushed his squeaky-wheeled cart out of the elevator and into the underground lot of HQ’s office complex. Dani walked by his side, her gaze darting to every dark corner as if checking for monsters.
They ambled between rows of identical white vans until they came across one which might’ve been white in a previous lifetime. Mud splatters, rust, and flaking paint covered the paneling, and it wouldn’t have looked out of place on someone’s front lawn alongside plastic flamingos and beer cans.
Dani stared at it in faint horror. “I thought we were supposed to maintain a clean image.”
He patted the side. “Mebbe all the rest like to waste time sprayin’ their vans down every time it gets a speck of dust on the bumper. Me? So long as it gets me where I gotta go, it’s all the fancy-shmancy wheels I need.”
“Still, shouldn’t you take better of your company car?” she asked. “I mean, that thing looks half-fossilized. What’s Francis’ ride? A white stretch limo?”
“When you reach his level, limos are beneath you,” Ben said. “So unless your new powers include teleportation, you’re gonna just have to enjoy the ride.”
She stood back as Ben slid the van’s side door open. It rattled aside to reveal built-in metal shelving that held all manner of buckets, cleaning fluid, bottles, extra mops, bundles of rags, and other cleaning paraphernalia. A regular janitorial treasure chest.
She perked up. “Got any gloves in there?”
He scrounged across one shelf until he came up with a pair of yellow rubber gloves and tossed them her way. As she tugged them on, he levered the cart into an open space at the back and locked the wheels in place.
“Why janitors?”
He glanced back. “Eh?”
“Why janitors?” Dani repeated. “If the Cleaners are some big magical society, why not act like it? Why hide behind this corporate front? Wouldn’t it be better to take on an image people respect more? Like law enforcement. Or superheroes.”
“First off, you really wanna go ’round wearin’ tights and capes? Or seein’ me in ’em?” He chuckled at her grimace. “Second off, if you think about it, janitors, maids, plumbers … all sortsa cleanin’ folks have been keepin’ the world from turnin’ into one big ball of mud since people started figurin’ out that sleepin’ in their own filth ain’t exactly the brightest idea. Mebbe politicians and military folk look like they’re the ones with all the say-so, but we’re the ones that keep things runnin’ from the ground up, whether they know it or not.”
“Still, isn’t it a little on the low end of the totem pole?”
“If you look hard enough, there’s plenty to be proud of.” He grinned. “You just gotta think like a janitor.”
“I wasn’t aware janitors did much thinking.”
“That sorta mindset is gonna get you in a lotta trouble.”
He rummaged around the shelves
until he came up with a dusty-brown cleaning jumpsuit which zippered up the front, and a pair of black rubber boots. These he handed to Dani. “Get changed.”
She held the suit doubtfully. “These are way too big for me. And I am not changing clothes in a garage.”
“Fine. But that piece you’re wearin’ right now dissolves if taken outta HQ, so I guess you’re ridin’ shotgun nekkid.”
Her eyes narrowed. “You’re joking. I know you are.”
An engine started in the distance as they stared each other down.
At last, her glare turned pleading. “Please say you’re joking.” When he remained silent, she stalked around to the other side of the van, calling out, “You try to peek and I’ll break your nose.”
Ben waited as groans of disgust and shuffling evidenced her attempts to change without falling over. A squeak of surprise was followed by Dani running back around, now wearing a hot pink jumpsuit. She plucked at the waistband and arms, which were just loose enough to give her free range of motion. Otherwise it fit perfectly.
“This thing shrunk! And changed color!”
“One size fits all ’round here.”
She craned her neck to study the outfit from all sides. “But why pink?”
“It switches to the wearer’s favorite color.”
“I don’t like pink.”
“Accordin’ to the suit, you like it a lot.”
“How do I change it?”
He briefly shut his eyes. When he opened them again, his dusty blue jumpsuit had turned forest green. “Just a mental command. ’Course if you get too distracted or knocked unconscious, it’ll revert back. Pink’s nothin’ to be ashamed of.”
She scrunched her eyes in concentration, and her outfit flickered between silver, cherry, and black before settling on tan. After confirming the absence of pink, she smoothed it down. “It do anything else?”
He pointed to her left shoulder, where red threading had appeared, reading: Dani. “Cleaner uniforms are also self-sanitizin’. You could dunk it in a septic tank and it’d be spotless half an hour later.”
She looked down in new admiration. “Better than magic armor.”
