If I took you by the hands and whirled you in a circle, you would have two forces acting on you: centrifugal (fleeing the center, flying out of my arms) and centripetal (aiming towards the center). What I'm really doing is exerting a sideways force on you that constantly changes, and acts against the continued force of our grasp on each other. Centrifugal force is a fiction created by this perpendicular motion; it is only reactive. The second we stop spinning, that force ceases to exist, because it was never there: it only looked like you were tearing yourself away from me, when really you were just moving sideways, in balance with our embrace. But that fiction only holds true, in the rotating frame of reference, as long as you hold fast: If the ties that bind us together are weaker than those that threaten to tear us apart, centrifugal force becomes a reality, and you spiral endlessly away, through the heavens. We all fall down.
"...Because He will take your hand and guide you to the other side of the river..."
Irritated, Laura wheels her meds, the Red Devil, her friendly poison, across Cottle's Sickbay, looking for the source of the Baltar Broadcast. Inside a private bedsit, curtains drawn, a woman named Emily curses the nurse as she promises to return when Emily feels better. "Can't you read a chart? I'm not gonna feel better. So take your needles and your thermometers and your catheters and stick 'em where the sun doesn't shine.
"When we shuffle off this mortal coil... The undiscovered country from whose bourn no traveler returns..."
Roslin ducks her head in, and says hello. Emily rolls her eyes: "Oh, great. Now the President." I like Emily Kowalski. So does Laura, immediately, grinning in conspiracy: "She stuck me three times today."
"It's a better place, my friends..."
Emily smiles back, nervously: "Be thankful she hasn't put a catheter in you." They smile. Laura likes the irreverence of this woman; the holy rage she rides.
"...Where we will bask in the radiance of God's love. How do we get there?"
"All this just to keep me alive for a few more days," Emily coughs. "It's so pointless."
"By reaching out to one another..."
Roslin reaches for the wireless: "No, it's not pointless. And I'm sure it isn't helping listening to Gaius Baltar..." Emily lashes out at her, shouting. "No no no! Don't touch that! The frak do you think you are?" There is nothing more powerful, nor more cutting, than the holy rage of a woman looking death in the eye. It will draw blood every time. Laura is sad, and embarrassed.