And Apollo's telling Romo, "My grandfather, he would wave me over... And then he'd say, 'Lee, be a good boy. Just don't be too good.'"
Lee praises her beautiful apartment, and Kara laughs: "It's a rattrap, but the rent's cheap." As Zak comes downstairs she tells him he's a terrible liar; says they should play cards sometime. "I hold my own," he says. She grins. Zak appears. Three pilots.
(Oh! I have slipped the surly bonds of Earth
And danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings;
Sunward I've climbed, and joined the tumbling mirth
of sun-split clouds, -- and done a hundred things
You have not dreamed of -- wheeled and soared and swung
High in the sunlit silence. Hov'ring there,
I've chased the shouting wind along, and flung
My eager craft through footless halls of air....
Up, up the long, delirious, burning blue
I've topped the wind-swept heights with easy grace
Where never lark nor even eagle flew --
And, while with silent lifting mind I've trod
The high untrespassed sanctity of space,
Put out my hand, and touched the face of God.)
Lee embraces his brother, who jokes -- "This one's mine, keep your hands off" -- and the air changes, twists into something more awkward. Zak laughs that his brother's a really bad liar; it's a joke they've already made. Kara kisses him, to prove something, and sends him off to get the drinks.
Remember the red line? It's how far you can jump before you can ever come back. You're not supposed to cross it. Technically, you shouldn't be allowed to. The calculations for such a jump are so complex they are nonlinear. Be good, just don't be too good.
Gaius apologizes to the nurse for his father's behavior. "Nothing in my contract about being stabbed with my steak knife!" she shouts, and he turns on the charm as Julius sits impotent in his chair, swearing that she's stealing from him. Aerilon fears; a farmer's life in the foodbasket of the Colonies. Even here in Caprica City he knows something's being taken from him. He brings those fears and nightmares into a clean place, into a place where all that pain and shame had been burnt off. At the edge of the singularity the gradations in gravity are so intense they could tear you apart: all the things you think you're leaving behind.
Gaius begs her not to leave, offers her more and more money, frustrated. Tears of anger in his eyes. Today was supposed to be a hot date, not a cold room with an old man; this life was supposed to be clean, and new. The Six appears in the doorway and Julius laughs crudely at her, banging his cane against the floor. "I thought I asked you to wait in the car," he snaps at her, hating her for seeing this. Julius laughs at him as he begs, voice soaring into ever-higher registers, begs the nurse not to leave, offering more and greater and better recompense. All he has is money, money and shame. Julius calls the Six a whore. She's been called worse; she's intrigued by Julius, the wildness and the neediness and the steadfast presence of him; how even lame and old and mad he still goes on demanding. This is what a parent is, she thinks. This is a father. Without this man's farmer genes, there could be no Gaius Baltar. There would be no entity that is Gaius. Gaius shouts at him: "Shut your filthy mouth. Stop being so disgusting!" But she wasn't insulted until now. "This is your father, Gaius."