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November 9th, 2019, 5.22AM The tunnels below Claremont Academy A pair of mops and buckets filled with foaming water fell with a crash in front of Nicholas and Leroy. "Awright, cadets!" Basil Falks, scrawny and short as he was under a two-sizes-too-big set of overalls and a baseball cap that had once been blue, maybe back in 1970, still had an air of utter command as he leveled the two boys with his gimlet brown-eyed stare. "These are the evacuation and concealed movement tunnels! It's been my privilege to work in them for over a decade, but I'm getting too old to do it all by myself! That's why I picked you pups! Nick," he pointed a bony finger at the speechless spectrum-sensitive, "I know you can keep a secret, and you have a janitor's dedication and poise under all that shrinking violet business. Leroy," he pointed that same finger at the elegant otherworld prince, "you can carry things okay and I know Nick will keep you out of trouble. I don't have to repeat myself, but you will not speak of what you see down here on penalty of...on penalty of whatever it is I come up with later." "Now we're starting off with a very simple job: the exit passages out of grounds aren't much-used and need a little polishing up. I won't have some kid slipping on some patch of grease and getting eaten by zombies, no sir." He looked at one of the walls, tracing his fingers over the polished titanium, whispering "Never again..." He quirked his head like a bird at the two boys "Anyway, that's the long and short of it. Go right-left-left-left-back and you'll find the spot. Give a holler if anything's started living down there. Yes Nick, you can holler too, won't hurt my feelings to have repair work to do if it saves you kids a funeral. Now git!" With that, Basil turned on a dime and sped off down the hallways, the splendid lighting letting the duo watch him turn suddenly into a door that had definitely not been there when he started walking. Then they were alone. Picking up a bucket and mop, Leroy smiled at Nick. Even in the plainest clothes he had, a brown sideless tunic and heeled platform sandals, with his curly hair up in a bun, the clan-scarred and dragon-tattooed teenager cut an expensive figure. "So, good Nick, how wonderful to see you out of paracausal physics! Have you drunk deep of life? I will take the buckets, let us say, and you the mops?"