High Moon Page #2

it, uh, wasn't an accident.

Well, what's that

got to do with me?

I don't know yet.

"Yet?"

No. Don't read into that.

How did you make it up there?

My com-link was busted,

so I bounced from one dead guy

to the next,

using their oxygen

to stay alive.

And now here you are.

And now here you are.

This is a second chance.

I-I'm gonna be...

I'm... I'm gonna...

I'm gonna be...

There was a flower.

Beg your pardon?

Growing right out

of the moon dirt.

Okay.

Fine. Uh...

Look. I love you,

and I'm glad you're alive.

Here we go.

You're the sole survivor

of a massive explosion,

there's moon-buggy footage

of you tampering

with an unknown object

at ground zero,

and I'm looking

for an inside man.

Okay, so this your idea

of a second chance?

Accusing me

of being a terrorist?

Your excuse you're not

is that you saw a flower.

And we're back!

It's only been, what,

like, two years?

And in two minutes, you're

trying to get inside my head.

Because I need to know if

you're working for the russians,

and you won't just tell me

if I ask you.

Uh... yes, I will.

No, I'm not.

Has it occurred to you

that being raised by a brother

who's a mind-reading swami

ruined my ability

to tell a convincing lie?

Or it made you better.

You're really committing

to this moonflower story.

The whole moon could be a plant.

It could've spent

the last billion years

squeezing its little plant parts

as hard as it can

to sprout

that one single flower.

And this might be the only point

for another billion years

to prove it,

but you won't

unclench long enough

to even consider it.

Validating your hallucinations

would only make me

seem collusive or desperate,

and I'm already gonna look bad

just talking to you.

To who?

Contact with your brother was

an absolute breach of protocol.

We've already had

this discussion, general.

Your brother showing up alive

is a game-changer.

My mandate

is two-pronged.

Prong one...

Find the party responsible

for the helium-mine explosion,

and parties are no fun

when only one person shows up,

so I've still got work to do,

even if Marty is involved.

And prong two...

Make sure

nothing like this happens again.

The fine print there

is that I'm going to be here

until I've installed

a security apparatus

that makes

your base impregnable.

I am a fixture, general.

Your boss

in special investigations

disagrees.

You're done.

Connect to 123181.

Authorization Ian Thurgood.

Please stand by

while we connect your call.

Thurgood.

I'm sorry to bother you,

Mr. secretary,

but general winehart here

seems to be playing politics

and is trying to get me

shipped home.

There won't even be

a way to get home

if our helium supply

falls even one hitch short

in its get-a-long. General!

Sir.

The whole damn

western hemisphere

is running on batteries

as it is.

We're already

rationing electricity

because of this attack.

If there is one more,

we are stewed.

I understand, sir.

Then why are you adding

more "polyticks"

to my already

crumbling woodpile?

Now, this whole damn mess

is 100% under

Thurgood's jurisdiction,

so you give him

everything he needs.

Am I making clear?

As a bell, sir.

Thank you, sir.

Now, somebody

shut this thing off!

Have all your files on Marty

and reports

from your russian spy

sent to me immediately.

You're running out of oxygen.

I always carry a spare.

Any scuttlebutt on

an indentured servant

named Martin Thurgood?

Might be our trigger man.

Never heard of him.

Everybody's pretty hush-hush

in the motherland.

They got something new to hide?

Just the tunnel

we've been digging

to steal american helium.

New plan is to bury it

before you find it.

Even with all your sabotage

and subterfuge,

that russian funnel's

still nipping at my moonshine.

They haven't turned it on yet.

Then who the hell else

is stealing our helium?

Our output is down 13%

from last month.

The russians

are losing yields, too.

What do you know

about this Thurgood guy?

Small-potatoes felon.

Presumed dead in the blast,

but then showed up alive,

babbling about a flower,

the same day

his well-connected brother

coincidentally arrived.

Whole thing stinks like fish.

I'll put a word-worm

in the communications database

and see if he turns up.

Any chance you haven't

heard anything

because they found out

you're a spy?

They've had plenty of

opportunities to kill me,

and haven't yet.

Never too late to start.

Stay lucky.

You rum-running me out

in the middle of the night

is a little shady.

I don't even know you.

Why didn't my brother join us?

This isn't exactly

an official, on-the-books

sort of thing.

He's trying to help you

prove your story

without compromising himself.

That sounds like my brother,

all right.

Ground-penetrating

radar?

There's a cavern beneath here.

Well, there were

no mining tunnels

this far out, right?

Could it be part

of the sinkhole?

No. It's definitely

its own cave.

The fireball came

out of that vent there.

Maybe where there's a flower,

there's a garden.

Maybe.

You go first.

Hey, sergeant?

Sergeant! I'm gonna unhook

and go deeper.

I'm right behind you!

Sergeant, you gotta see this.

There's roots...

Or something.

Whoa!

Help! Sergeant!

Sergeant! Get in here!

Leak detected.

Oxygen level at 75%.

Oxygen level at 50%.

Leak contained.

Sergeant, where are you?

Up, up, up, up, up, up, up, up!

Just say it.

Stop chewing on it in your head

and say it out loud.

Do you have any idea

how this looks?

Like I was attacked

by an assassin?

Presumably because

I saw something

I shouldn't have.

Like a flower.

You stole a moon buggy,

snuck into a crime scene

and survived

another massive explosion.

It looks like

you're working for the russians.

Oh, well, that's weird,

'cause the guy who attacked me

was an Indian.

I suppose you think

I stabbed myself, too?

You did!

Yes. To plug

the leak in my suit

after I was stabbed

the first time.

That sounds insane!

Everything you're saying

is coming off like

some dumb criminal

trying to come off like

a hippy-dippy pacifist.

"I wasn't planting a bomb.

I saw a flower."

"I stabbed myself

because an Indian made me."

Alright.

Okay. Fine.

Let's pretend

I'm completely gullible

and irrational.

You've got 60 seconds

to explain to me

how a flower could

possibly grow in a vacuum.

How would I know that?

Ian, how would anybody

know that?

Even if lunar botany

was a thing,

it wouldn't be my thing.

I just saw it.

No thing is your thing.

That's your problem, Moose.

Okay, just because

I don't need to dethrone you

as the great potentate

of the psyche

doesn't mean I'm not driven.

Where are you?

The moon... I love.

Being on it

and doing my small part

to tame it

is all the purpose I need.

Your calling

is being indentured labor

to pay off a felony conviction?

Dreams really do come true.

30 seconds.

This is why I left.

First of all, you didn't leave!

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