[Narrator]: The episode you're about to watch
was filmed with a live audience in a single take.
No reset, no restarts, no do-overs.
(gentle music)
- [Max] Looks like we didn't get rid of
all that malware after all.
- [Tommie] What is happened to landing?
(Max yells)
- [Tommie] Stop squirming.
(Max continues to yell)
What are you complaining about?
I turned off the heat gun two minutes ago.
- [Max] The heat gun normally used for
field repairs on the HVAC.
- [Tommie] Plumbing is plumbing.
- You didn't think to fix the ship
before you started operating on me?
- Still working on my priority Management.
- How come you didn't get hit?
- 'Cause I chose not to stand in front of
the giant cloud of space junk.
- You always this lucky?
- Pretty much.
- Yeah, you did get me as your pilot.
- Yes, sounds like lucky should be my new call sign.
- Did you roast a bag of marshmallows while I was out,
or is there a fire somewhere?
- Zero-G oxyline fire in the air lock.
It's still some stuff smoldering I haven't tracked down yet.
- Emergency depressurization protocol?
- I did have my hands pretty full
while you were taking your little nap.
- I believe the word you're looking for is concussion,
and thank you for asking.
- So, you feel like helping,
or you just gonna sit here and whine all day?
(Max exclaims)
- That felt amazing.
- At least some of those expired medical supplies
should be kicking in any moment.
(Max grunts)
Or not.
- Nice job on my patches.
Did you see anything missing in there?
- Huh. Great question for the medical imager.
Let's take a look.
Oh, ha ha, that's all right. There is no medical imager.
- Thanks, Boss Heedle.
- My personal terminal is still working though.
Won't be much better than an
overgrown calculator without a network connection,
but it's still a backup computer.
- Yeah, well, that doesn't do much
for my perforated insides.
But if we encounter an emergency
where you have to suddenly do your taxes, we're all set.
- Come on.
- What else got borked?
- Oh, let's talk about what's working.
8-Grav is working, mostly.
And our atmos seems to be holding.
I filled up the last leak just before you woke up.
And surprisingly, I'm reading good integrity
on all six of our helium-3 tanks.
- Outstanding.
Three of the 38 critical systems working, maybe.
Any other good news?
- Oh, right.
Something the size of a marble cored our main CPU.
- That's good news?
You sure you didn't get hit in the brain?
- No.
It goes in the plus column
'cause it instantaneously deactivated our ship's data nexus.
This isn't normally impossible without
a nice, big chunk of debris moving
at 30 megaclicks per hour.
It took down the ransomware so fast
there was no chance of a respawn.
- Great.
So, now we can finally move out of the way
of that giant cloud of space junk that already passed us by.
- Yep.
- Oh, no, no, no, no.
- Oh, yeah. Backup CPU was also hit.
- No, it's worse than that.
(Max sobs)
- Okay. You know your music thing
is some kind of medical issue, right?
- Oh, yes, yes, yes, yes.
- Oh, goody. We're saved.
Hey, Max, what's the plan?
- Well, now that we're no longer in danger
of being smithereened,
we just sit tight and hang on to our air
till our lunar tsar gets here.
Call it a few days.
- And no way to listen to your music collection?
Such a bummer.
- Sounds like a perfect time to run more practice drills.
- This while ship is a practice drill now.
Let's mix it up with some scenarios
where we aren't about to die.
- We could always write more letters to Sebastian.
- Hey, Max?
Weird question. Are we getting heavier?
- Check the helium-3.
Take a close look at, uh, tanks four and five.
- I'm showing an accelerating pressure drop
on tank number five.
- Great. That small hole's about to get a lot bigger.
(ship rumbles)
(Max yells)
- So uncool.
- How long
do we have
to go through this?
- Breathe in
short
shallow
gulps.
(Max and Tommie grunt)
Need you up here, Tommie.
Tank status.
Give me status tank five.
First time?
Center fuse.
- Reading.
75%
full.
- We're not gonna last. We're already over 14. Jump it.
Arm.
Take five.
Safety's off.
Three,
two,
one.
Come on, Tommie.
- I'm gonna let you handle it.
- Oh, come on.
And we're at 1-G.
Again.
Ish.
(Tommie sighs)
- Nice job.
Weighting 500 pounds is about as hilarious
as I always imagined.
- Well.
- Well?
- Fine. I guess your training was good for something.
- So, what's next?
- Well,
we should
probably take a moment to
arrest our high-speed departure
from the Plane of the Ecliptic.
- Hold up on that, Tommie, would you?
- Whatcha looking at?
- I want you to double check my math for me.
What do you see? Think of it like another quiz.
- Looks like we're venting some fuel.
- Which is?
- I'm gonna guess locks?
- Which is?
- Highly explosive but not a problem,
since there's currently no external ignition source.
- Except for?
- Whatever's burning up in this torn up conduit.
Maybe one of the oxylines for life support
probably, probably set off when
the explosive bolts tried to send that tank.
- This would only be taken care of by?
- Automatic fire suppression systems.
That are most likely now holed, courtesy of a space junker's
math error 10 hours ago.
- The string of mouse is known as a?
- Cascade failure.
- Options?
- Dump the mains?
- I concur.
- We do that and we'll probably be dead in a week.
- We don't do that, we'll probably be dead in five minutes.
- Cry in pain versus fire?
- Are you as sick of losing pieces of this ship is I am?
- Yeah, I'm starting to feel a little possessive.
- You take this one.
- Enabled.
Kick one, kick two, kick three, kick four.
- Three.
- [Both] Two, one.
(ship rumbles)
- Well, that's just rude.
- Can we just agree that's enough training for now?
Okay, that's-
For a second there, I thought you were just about-
- Hey, still not my type.
- Right.
- So,
no longer trainee, al-Qasimi.
Any ideas?
- Just verifying.
No, one's hiding a ship capable of catching up to us, right?
- Right. - Yeah.
You're currently on a one way trip to the record books.
- Hey.
Does this antique actually work?
- Yeah. I check it every trip just for fun,
but I already have a pretty good idea where we are.
- Yeah, okay.
I'm gonna need a little more precision than that.
Exactly 180 degrees off our current vector.
- Okay, I'll,
I'll set it up.
Ready when you are.
- Guide me.
- 90 high. Might want to ease up
- Got places to be.
- 110 low.
130 high.
You can overshoot.
140. Still a bit high
160 on.
170. Slowly, slowly.
175.
176.
No way.
178.
179.
179.5.
0.6.
This is ridiculous.
0.8.
0.9.
Confirming. 180, spot on, no drift.
- Well?
- Fine.
I guess your training did come in handy for something.
Congratulations.
We may be still leaving the Plane of the Ecliptic,
but at least now we're doing it facing backwards.
- We're right on track.
Now, I need you to check an equation for me.
- I know I may just be E.E. and all,
but, uh, think you left off the hat over the-
- Oh.
Not bad for a jumbo.
- Sure.
How did you know I went to Tufts?
You did read my Wikipedia entry.
- Pay attention.
This is good news.
We're gonna need less time on outflow.
That totally might actually hold together
long enough for us to pull this off.
- What is this pulling off we're going to be doing?
- This is where we continue to rely
on your superior training.
How do you feel about EVA's?
- Love 'em.
- Great. Remember how much the thrusting five produced?
- Vividly.
- Imagine that, but minus the spinning out of control part.
- Sounds amazing.
- I'm actually taking this seriously.
- Oh, this is very serious.
- Great.
Let's grab the EVA suit and get you in it.
- Uh.
We don't,
we don't have an EVA suit.
- What are you talking about?
Vessels running circumlunars
are required to carry EVA suits.
- Yeah, until Heel rewrote the regs last year.
Argued that maintaining five million dollar EVA suits
was an undue cost burden on the corporation.
- That's outrageous.
We should totally talk to all the other pilots and-
- And unionize?
- Great idea.
- Well then, what's the what's in the EVA locker?
- Vasily drew a picture of a tractor
and taped it up in there.
- I don't get it.
- I think it's funny if you're Russian.
(thoughtful music)
- Illegal levels of cute.
- Yeah, right?
- Who took the photo?
- Mary.
- Who's Mary?
- Oh, uh, Mary is Mark's sister.
She was gonna be our egg donor.
- Isn't that weird?
- Not really.
He wouldn't be the first brother to raise his sister's kids.
- Yeah, but with your-
- Wee swimmers?
- Ugh.
It's ridiculous.
- Everything involving human reproduction
is deeply ridiculous, in practice.
I say just get weird with it.
- So,
you would've been the dad?
- We would have both been dad.
- Yeah, but with his sister's?
- Frozen eggs, the last of which just expired.
He lost his whole family at once.
They were in Miami when that tanker strike
vaporized the seawall.
He thought that using Mary's eggs
would be a way we could somehow-
- Continue their story?
- Yeah, like that.
- I froze my eggs.
- Good for you.
- I figured it was a good idea.
Bopping around in space and all.
- Yeah. It's pretty safe up here, but you never know.
Don't forget to hatch one at some point though.
- Oh, hold on. Let me, let me see if I can find
some clean bandages and some more subsyde drugs.
- Oh, yummy.
Gimme that.
Would you do me a favor and, uh,
see if we have any duct tape in the tool bin.
- We have plenty of medical tape.
You don't need to go all action star.
- That's actually kind of what I was thinking.
- Yeah, we got duct tape. A couple of rolls.
- Grab 'em for me, would you?
- Well?
♪ Branches full of flowers bending low ♪
- I have a spectacularly bad idea to share with you.
♪ My time for trouble ♪
♪ Nowhere to go ♪
♪ If I don't look up ♪
♪ I'll never be found ♪
♪ I wanna be smiling when the leaves turn brown ♪
♪ Leaves of gold falling from the trees ♪
♪ Trouble everywhere around me ♪