Monk's list of jobs mainly involved keeping the spaceship clean and gathering supplies for the crew when it came time to eat or even have a snack. They taught him how to move about on the ship and entirely skirted around the issue of the bump on the back of his head and the wound on his arm. The official story they told the crew was that Monk had had some sort of episode that caused him to wander around in the basement, probably scraping his arm on something, and that he had crawled into the container. They said he would check with a doctor when they returned to earth.

Everyone was skeptical of the story, especially Rachel who had dressed the wound. But nobody openly questioned. They had a short time to do a big job and didn't need conflict aboard the vessel. As long as their visitor didn't cause any trouble, they would deal with details when they returned.

Monk proved quite useful on board, and sometimes they would actually let him help with some of the more technical work they were doing. They were amazed at his photographic memory and his attention to detail.

In one case, one of the crew members was trying to assemble some sort of electric control box that would communicate with the unit that they were to install on the moon. The crewman had already wasted 30 minutes trying to make it turn on when Monk stopped by and in 15 seconds pointed out that there were two parts out of place. The Crewman switched the parts and the unit turned on without a hitch.

"What exactly is it that we are delivering here?" Adrian asked the crewman out of curiosity.

The man pointed towards the unit in his hand and then back towards the storage bay.

"It's a sort of galactic defense system. It monitors incoming threats both in space and on earth." Naomi explained.

"Like Ronald Reagan's Star Wars venture?" Monk asked.

"Yeah, sorta. But not so Hollywood. Commander Grayson owns the patent on the machine itself and is in fact its inventor." Specialist Naomi answered.

"We're very proud of him." Rachel purred. Naomi's raised eyebrow was the only reaction she received.

Monk looked over at Grayson who was reading some papers and had paused, looking up when Naomi mentioned his name.

"So you invented this thing? How exactly does it work, Commander?" Monk asked.

Grayson looked between Monk and the crewman and back again. "Can't you see I'm busy, Mr. Monk. Please, leave me alone."

"I was just..."

"Fine." the commander of the spacecraft said sharply. "Naomi, will you give Monk a high-level summary?"

Monk took notice that Grayson looked a nervous at this questioning and mentally, filed that away.

"Well, in layman's terms, we're delivering a special monitoring tool that will help the U.S. government determine everything from if one of our enemies is planning to launch a missile on us, is conducting unexpected military exercises or otherwise acting suspicious. It also will scan up to 500,000 miles out for space debris or asteroids that might be a threat to the planet or some of our more expensive satellites. They are thinking that if something unexpected floats along that is a threat, they can just shoot it out of the sky." Naomi explained.

"Fascinating" said Monk. "Fascinating."

The burden of planning Monk's memorial service would not fall on Natalie alone this time. She had taken that weight on several years earlier when everyone thought that Captain Stottlemeyer had shot and killed Monk in a confrontation on the pier. But everyone realized that even though she was surprisingly stoic, Natalie was too fragile to go through this exercise again. Instead, Stottlemeyer called in two of Monk's dearest friends, Chief of Police Randy Disher and his wife Sharona from New Jersey to plan the occasion.

Leland himself was busy taking statements and examining evidence to assist the FBI and couldn't help. They knew the who - Wagner and Grayson were the culprits. He believed the governor was simply a victim of his own ambition - too blind to realize what he was doing. What Leland didn't know was the why. Wagner might go after Monk for revenge, but what about Grayson? In spite of Federal charges that could carry the death penalty if convicted, Wagner wasn't talking.

Julie was staying close to home and between her and Sharona, Natalie was being well cared for. On Tuesday afternoon, they took Natalie to a dress shop to purchase something for the service because her already slender frame was nearly skeletal from loss of weight during her ordeal. Despite of the turmoil, she was surprisingly strong.

"Denial" said Sharona sadly. " It's a coping mechanism and will get her through the next few days. But, we have to be prepared for when we get Adrian's body..." she paused and began to cry "because when denial meets reality, she is likely to fall apart...again."

Sharona's life with Randy was more then she expected, in fact, compared to life with her manipulative ex, it was a dream. And while she didn't miss her old life and loved life with Randy and the baby, she did miss Adrian Monk. It seemed impossible that he was gone.

The spacecraft reached its position near the moon's surface early Wednesday morning. The flight had gone smoothly and in spite of the fact that he truly was in outer space, Monk was able to mostly push aside all anxiety and enjoy the ride. He was astounded at the view of the earth's surface, and when not providing some menial service for the crew he would sit and look out the window at the expansive blue marble and try to figure out what part of the would he was looking at. It was amazing and yet very humbling. There was no way all of this happened by chance.

Grayson instructed the crew to take their seats in preparation for descent. Monk buckled himself into a side chair as the vessel slowly edged to the surface of the moon. Grayson was in constant contact with Mission control.

"T- minus 10 seconds'til touchdown
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TOUCHDOWN!

The Eagle has landed Again. America is back, baby!" said Grayson through his microphone.

As people everywhere celebrated and cheered , Police headquarters was more subdued. Stottlemeyer and Randy had been catching up and had stopped long enough to watch the landing. But, the whole thing was bittersweet. On the one hand they had great pride as Americans. On the other, they knew what dark secrets were held within that vessel. Little did they know the trouble that was going on that very moment aboard the Zenith.

The Zenith had taken rather hard landing to the point that some electronic equipment was jostled loose and fell on one of the crew. The equipment was okay but the crew member was not. As he sat moaning in his chair, his crew mate unbuckled his belt and went over to assist.

"Higgins. You okay man?" asked Naomi.

"No. I don't think so. It's my arm. I think it's broken." was the reply.

Rachel rushed over to check on him and confirmed the diagnoses. It was clearly broken and she delivered the news to Grayson. The commander cursed but then quickly took command.

"Alright then." said Grayson. "Guess we need to shift to Plan B. We needed Higgins to help carry and secure the equipment. He obviously is not able to do that now. I need the rest of you at your stations monitoring things, so I guess that leaves us but one option."

They all watched the commander with anticipation as he said. "Rachel, Naomi, I need you to help Mr. Monk to suit up. He will fill in for Higgins. Bryson, you suit up as well and you and Monk come meet me and Stevens up front in fifteen minutes."

"W-What?" a startled Monk asked in fear. "I...I...I c-can't g-go ou-out there!"

"You can, and you will. Suit up Monk" Grayson replied. "You're about to enter that rare and elite group of individuals - the few to have ever stepped foot on the moon."