Battlestar Galactica
The Son Also Rises

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Jacob Clifton: C+ | Grade It Now!
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You Are All A Lost Generation

Somewhere else there are hands in plastic gloves, putting together a bomb for Romo. In the brig -- not Lee's quarters? -- Lampkin's putting together a bomb for Gaius, and for Caprica. It's in the unsaid: even Lee has signed confidentiality papers. "Papers" is like Angeli's favorite word -- remember young Lee playing with Joseph's "law books and papers"? That's the only reason I noticed at all, because of that awkward construction last time, but now it's like everywhere. Weirdest thing. Second weirdest: Gaius Baltar, who's going nutsier than he's ever gone before, wriggling and jerking and staring, once they get his bulletproof vest off him. "Look, this whole charade's pathetic. Pathetic! Security? Security's already toasting my other attorney's, uh, untimely demise. About one thing that bloke ever did, apart from napping, was, you know, manage to...smuggle out my papers. Papers. Do you have any papers?" Romo pulls out a pad and Gaius begins to write before he's even done thanking him. "The nature of modern life is...obsession." Without looking up, he asks Romo his chances for a fair trial. They laugh about that one. "But you haven't exactly been helping yourself, now, have you?" Gaius worries that he's going to yell about the writing, but that's not it: "On the contrary, keep it coming. This new manifesto of yours shows a great change in you. This little uh...operating manual of yours, well...keeps them all guessing." Interesting choice of words, no? Operating manual. To recreate the Fleet in the image of a perfect machine, to strip away the ugliness and complexity of human life and make everything fair, forever. That's how he got the Presidency, after all: by promising them these dreams. He'll get there again.

Gaius hunkers closer, trusting Lampkin now that he's signed off on the manifestos. "Right, okay. Okay. ... Caprica Six. I'm worried about her. She's the key. They can use her to completely destroy me." Romo nods. They won't have far to go. "We need to get to her. We need to know what she's thinking. We need to...I mean, talk to her. Tell her, uh...tell her that I love her very much. And I'm thinking about her... a lot?" The language of love, it's not Gaius's first language. Whether he's fooling or not, whether the message here is that she needs to buy it or not, forget Three and worship him again or simply love him like she used to, I can't tell. He's too squirrelly right now. He's never been able to tell the difference and he's not about to start now: what Gaius needs, Gaius schemes for. His concept of love has always been tied to his concept of usefulness, and that's Lampkin's language too: "I can sense that, yes." Gaius continues to dart his eyes at Lee, speak in strange half-ciphers. "You need to, you need to find out where we're all...where we're all standing." That's the thing Lampkin knows the second he comes in the room: where everybody's standing. The weak places. "To listen requires a voice. For what needs to be known, requires us to ask. My Triumphs, My Mistakes, by Gaius Baltar." Gaius's smile is beautiful, he's loving this. It's Romo's mightiest yank yet. "But you say it very well," he says, in the moment of etiquette, pretending they are gentlemen, that he's not crazy, with half the world shoved down his pants, that they are scholars together, again. "I've done the reading. Once those papers [Drink!] arrive, I suggest you do yours."

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Battlestar Galactica

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