Captain Venus

(This is the second story about The Dean and his crew. Read part one here.) The night guard ran out of the palace, leaving the heavy door ajar. Tripping, swearing, spitting, and crossing himself, he ran across the garden, his eyes fixed on the gigantic golden cross on top of the temple ahead. Through the opened door of the palace’s basement the glowing blue light poured, as if the moon had just risen inside. In the basement, the vintage metal boiler rattled and cracked, hissing, the light seeping through its seams. The professor stepped out of the shadows and threw the lid open. “Welcome back, Mr. Dean,” he said. A shiny ivory sleeve appeared, then another hand. The cloud of white hair rose above the rim. The Dean pulled himself up and rolled over the side of the heater, his sandals slapping against the basement floor. “Hello, Professor,” he said, and stretched his hand out. “I thought Pip would be here.” The Professor squeezed the offered hand but didn’t let it go. He stared at his…