The guard outside the Deck 8 church is apologetic -- not a Son of Ares, but perhaps a son to Apollo -- as he tells Gaius he can't enter: there are twelve people already. A quorum of worshippers, and Laura's Order 170 saying that's enough. Gaius nods. "You can count, can you?" The son of Apollo agrees, gun across his chest, and ducks his head again. From within, one of the Batshits shrieks that she can come out, if the guards will let her, and then Gaius will be able to come home. But the beauty of Order 170 is that it accounts for that. "We're asking everyone to stay inside for safety reasons." Gaius tish-toshes and pish-poshes, and the guard is mightily embarrassed, but he has his orders. "I live here, and so do some of these women," Gaius snots. "Where are we supposed to go?"
Six tells him now: this is the moment. "Gaius. Step forward. Make a stand." Has she like met him? Gaius explains tiredly that he doesn't want to be a hero, or make a stand, because his day started with Tory's nihilistic bullshit and ended in the brig, and he just wants to sleep. Somebody, meaning everybody, finally notices him talking to himself, like, even Paulla who invented this stupid cult is weirded out. "Look at me," Six lies. "I promise you: Step forward, and you will not be hurt." She repeats her promise, adding that once he pulls this off he can lie down. "Go in!" He walks forward, into the poor Marine kid, who finally has to smash him: "Stop, sir." Paulla and the ladies cry out.
"Get your frakkin' hands off me, you frakkin' freak machine!" Saul slaps Caprica's hand away, rudely, and she responds by throwing him across the room, as Sixes must. It's two whole punches before her smile breaks out, and she looks down at his bloody face, full of love and holy purpose. Her strength is like a freight train, like an animal, like a machine made for pain. "Can you feel it, Saul? Can you feel the clarity of it?" He moans wordlessly, his mouth full of blood, and she gazes down at him, smiling, finally able to help. Imagine the eyes of something infinitely beautiful and infinitely sure, that could give you any gift. Something hard as rock, seeing all your angles at once, and wanting most to love you anyway. Like music, across the water; created to be loved, offering that love in return. She hits him again.
Gaius vomits blood before them all. The guard tells him to stay down, or leave. Six tells him to do it, whispering to him. "The gain will outweigh the cost." He rises and falls, again, and again. She picks him up by the elbow; the viewers see only a puppet on a string, driven by righteousness, and scream. He falls again, and Six throws her arms around him, hurling him bodily into the air, supporting him with her own strength even as he's thickly complaining through a broken mouth. "I want to stay down. I really want to stay down..." But Six knows better. She puts her invisible weight behind him, and walks him step by step, foot by foot, toward the poor guard again. If you looked at the dust in the corridor, you'd see two sets of footprints. That's where she's carrying him.