A/N: Dean is down on Emo following Garth's tip, about the whereabouts of 'Benny', to the so-called 'monkey track'...

The Pompatus Box (Chapter 18: Monkey Business) by frostygossamer

Dean makes his way quickly through the streets of Daffodil until he spots the sign for the track dead ahead. It's a big indoor race facility where he discovers they are using capuchin monkeys as jockeys on robotic ponies. Ah, now it makes sense.

The capuchins are wearing colourful jockey silks and tiny tutus. Makes less sense.

"Only on Emo," he murmurs.

He makes a random bet at the on-track betting window, casually mentioning that he has a tip from a certain Benny Lafitte. The clerk only stares back blankly, so Dean takes a seat in the spectators' stand. The race starts in a couple minutes and is over in seconds. Surprisingly, Dean has the winner on his ticket: 'Kinky Cong'.

He figures he may as well collect his winnings. It may be the only luck he has today. So he makes his way back to the booth. But, as he pushes through the crowd of punters, he finds himself bracketed by a couple very mean-looking heavies. They are dressed like rough-and-ready space-crew. Seems he may have struck pay dirt.

Somehow his hands have gotten zip-tied behind his back. With a goon's hand around each of his elbows, he's frogmarched protesting to the back of the property. Dean could live without the zip ties. He's come there of his own accord. They don't need to treat him like an undesirable.

"Hey, hey. No need for the strong-arm stuff, guys. Wanna talk to Benny, is all."

He hopes it is Benny they are taking him to see and it isn't simply that the owner of the track has taken exception to paying him his winnings. Perhaps they mean to roll his ass and throw him out on his head in some scuzzy back alley.

"You ARE taking me to Benny, right?"

They heavies aren't listening anyways. He's dragged up a dimly-lit corridor and flung unceremoniously into a pitch-black back room. Without his hands to steady him, he lands on his knees cursing under his breath. His eyes strain to pick out any detail of his surroundings.

After a few seconds, someone throws a light switch and Dean blinks until he can see again.

A man in a dark pea coat and Breton cap enters the room. He's a sturdy guy with a neatly trimmed beard and a nasty smile playing on his lips.

"So you're the guy who's looking for Benny the Buccaneer?"

Dean sneers at the 50-cent word 'buccaneer'. "That your stage name?"

The guy chuckles. "'Nom de guerre' maybe."

Again with the pretentiousness. Dean guesses this guy as been living on Emo for too long.

"Yeah. I got a message for Benny Lafitte from his honey Miss Meg Masters."

The guy smoothes his bristly chin, interested but still suspicious.

"And what would this message be from my, uh, honey?"

Dean is sure now that he's dealing with the real McCoy.

"Ah, so you're Benny, huh? You have the Pompatus Box? Because she wants it back. They're on to her little plot already and she needs to hide it someplace else."

Benny laughs like Dean said something very funny.

"Masters can want what the hell she pleases. The plan goes ahead, and she can go down for all I care. Fact is, I was thinking of arranging a little accident for her, by and by. She's a loose end I can live without."

Dean is completely thrown off. Looks like Ruby had it totally wrong about Meg and Benny being an item. And it also looks like Meg isn't as in charge of things as he imagined. The plan is Benny's. That puts a different spin on it. Benny notices Dean's confusion and it confirms his guess that Dean wasn't sent by Meg.

He sneers. "You don't know what you've gotten yourself into, do you?"

Dean is beginning to wonder about that himself. If he had known he was walking into the lion's den he might have taken more precautions. Benny paces slowly around the kneeling Dean and heaves a dramatic sigh.

"You even know who I am?"

Dean growls. "You're a robbing son of a bitch who hijacked some random presidential bling so he can demand a freakin' ransom, and make himself mega-credits out of some poor sap's embarrassing fail. Guess you don't give a rat's ass about the clusterfuck you're causing."

Benny guffaws. "Man, have you got it all ass first."

He draws up a small stool and carefully perches his beefy frame on it, getting himself comfortable before continuing. Dean takes a moment to twist ineffectually at the ties binding his wrists behind him. They are tight and dig into his flesh.

"You heard the word Selenite before?" Benny asks.

Dean snorts. "Oh yeah sure. You're gonna tell me that you and your buddies here are indigenous Lunans, huh? Dude, it's been proven that's a crock. Luna was a dead world before we worked her over."

His captor leans back on his stool, convulses with silent laughter then patiently explains.

"I was Terra-born. Shipped out to Luna as a convict terraformer. You might say I worked my way back to righteousness. Started seeing something in humanity, downtrodden Lunan humanity. Luna, Queen of the Night, she's my homeland now. Proud to call myself a Lunan. But the way the Terran regime treats its only natural moon is an outrage, sickening. Some of us Lunans have had enough. Some of us have gotten angry. A few of us have made up our minds to do something about it. We formed ourselves a Revolutionary Army."

Dean has heard that particular circumlocution before. Talk of revolution was big in his dad's time.

"Revolutionary Army? You saying you're freakin' terrorists?"

"You could call us that. We like to call ourselves Selenitist freedom fighters."

Dean has heard that one too. Anarchists! He takes a moment to absorb the realization. Anarchists killed his dad. Anarchists turned his life to crap. Things are starting to look real bad.

"So the piracy, the harassment, the plot to steal the President's gift, that's all about... what?"

"All about turning up the political tension between Terra and Eno. So far Eno has been Terra's only real threat. The planet of technology, they got everything it takes to stockpile WMDs and challenge Terra's hold over the system. Terra needs to keep them sweet and she's been pouring every goddamn grant and kickback into Eno's coffers. They wanna broker a lasting peace between the two of them. Luna gets nada. Fact is, we're paying for it all."

Even Dean can see how that could make anyone a little pissed, but aren't they using the wrong tactics? Isn't this kind of thing what politicians and diplomats are paid for? Hell, what's so bad about firing up a petition?

"And you think nipping at Terra's heels is gonna make them pay you more attention. That it? Fat chance."

Benny snickers. "Buddy, this is a bigger game than that. They're crap-scared of a 'War on Terra'. We're gonna bring it to them."

Dean swallows.

TBC

A/N: Oh dear! Dean seems to have unearthed a terrorist plot. Now what's going to happen to him? More soon.