Peter considered the page, then looked at the computer. "I've been meaning to do that for two years." Marcus smiled. "I know. Every shop has something people keep meaning to do. It's usually the thing that becomes important at three in the morning."
Gerald approved the update and assigned Marcus to help reconcile the paper map with the verified equipment records. It was painstaking work, requiring him to walk floor after floor beside another technician and confirm each identification before making a change. Marcus discovered that he enjoyed the job more than he expected. A good map, like a good repair, reduced the amount of suffering the next person would inherit.
He also discovered that Peter had reasons for being impatient. The engineer had spent the last year helping care for his father, who was recovering from a serious illness, and had quietly accumulated more overtime than he wanted. The night of the failed conference-room system, Peter had canceled a visit with his father to remain in the building. His skepticism toward a stranger arriving with a cleaning cart had been sharpened by exhaustion, not merely by contempt.
That realization came during a dinner break when Marcus found Peter staring at his phone near the vending machines. "Everything okay?" Marcus asked. Peter shook his head. "My dad is trying to convince me he doesn't need help with groceries, and then he sends me a photograph of an empty refrigerator."
Marcus laughed. "Sounds like somebody Emma would get along with." Peter looked at him. "Your daughter?"
Marcus nodded. "She insists she's old enough to walk herself to the store. She's eight and can't remember where she left her socks."
They ate sandwiches on a bench near the service corridor and talked about the strange arithmetic of caring for someone while trying to earn a living. Peter told Marcus that the first thing he had thought when Natalie invited him to inspect the cabinet was that another person was about to make his long night longer. Marcus admitted that he had nearly pushed his cart past the problem because he expected nobody would want his opinion. Neither man offered a dramatic apology, but both understood the moment better by the time they returned to work.
Two days later, Peter handed Marcus an updated training plan with several items highlighted. "You've got a good ear," he said. "But you need more experience with the building controls, and the software isn't going away. If you're serious about staying, you'll have to learn it properly."
"I know," Marcus replied. "That's why I'm here." Peter nodded. "Good. Because I'm not doing you any favors by pretending you don't have to." Marcus recognized the kindness in that bluntness more clearly than he would have recognized a polished compliment.
At the end of the second week, Marcus passed a written assessment covering documentation, work authorization, fault reporting, and the appropriate response to conditions outside his permitted scope. He did not get a perfect score, and one question about a newer environmental controller caught him by surprise. He took the corrected paper home, reviewed the relevant manual, and brought questions back the following evening. This time Peter smiled before he even began explaining.