I AM A STRANGE LOOP, OR: BRINGING GÖDEL ESCHER BACK
Jeanne wakes Gaius up, screaming for help, and he finds himself naked, tangled in the sheets with Tracey as Jeanne hurries to them, dropping the boy in the center of their bed. It's Derrick, her son. Out of sickbay. "Where are my clothes?" Gaius whispers to Tracey, and though she tells him it's all okay, he tries in vain to cover his nakedness with a corner of the blanket. Derrick has viral encephalitis, which Gaius explains to Tracey means that the only dogs in this fight are Derrick's immune system, and prayer. Doctors can't do anything about viruses. Jeanne, fearing her son's death is nearing, has brought him to die in the arms of his loving, de facto, weeks-old family. Demand anything.
She takes Gaius's hand, and Tracey takes the other. And Gaius says, again and again, that he prayed for the boy. Begs her to understand, to believe that he did. "I know. I guess...I guess the One True God just doesn't want him to live, right?" Gaius stares and realizes that his rants and manipulations have finally gotten him in over his head. He realizes what this cult could be. And while he tries to swim, there's Paulla standing, watching over them all, like Six. But how much of this, Gaius, how much of this is theatre? How can you know for sure, if you're bluffing yourself as bad as everybody else?
In Tigh's quarters, the Four sit around, feeling bad and explaining the plot to us. No, they don't hear the song anymore, because it was a trigger or something. Yes, when the Raider scanned Sam, all the Cylons left the area. Perhaps it recognized him, but he's more worried about how come he didn't shoot it first, but Tigh thinks it was just a nugget mistake and not some Cylon issue in his brain, but Sam's not so sure, but Tigh feels he cannot be programmed to do bad things, but Chief brings up the somewhat visceral memory of how bad Boomer's programming betrayed her when she shot the old man, but Tigh explains to us the audience that the difference is that Boomer didn't know what she was, so it's fine. It's going to be okay.
How does he know this? How can he know, this thinking-about-thinking, whence this Cartesian bilocation that could tell him whether or not he's just a made-up thing, a puppet. How can you know if you know? How can he tell them it's going to be okay? He demonstrates by pulling a gun out of his locker, cocking it, and setting it on the table next to the liquor. "Agreed?" They nod, one by one. The Chief is sad. Everybody's sad. This is sad.