I'm calling it: Chip Six and Chip Gaius are the same entity, and that entity is an angel of God. Caprica and Gaius (and Kara, and Three; and Cavil and William Adama; and Roslin and Felix Gaeta) are just the tools, pivots, chits it's moving around, in order to break down the Fleet and the Cylons and bring back together what's been torn apart. The angel was born in nuclear fire, in the first Exodus, in the billion burned and orphaned children of Gaius Baltar, in the rebellion and confusion and monstrous destruction the Cylons brought, and the day the Chips stop talking is the day that horror is undone. That's the day we rest, and that's the day all pawns become queens, and that's the day we win. That's Three, looking at the Final Five and seeing Kara's gods and goddesses; that's Sharon, skipping back and forth across the line, becoming a new woman every single time they put her in these horrible situations. Angel or demon, figment or whatever: this is how the world changes, every single day. This is how things become better. Everything that rises, every single thing, converges in heaven. You change the world by changing yourself, and you change yourself by stepping across the lines, as the angel begs you to do. That line of salt is human and Cylon history and tears, and nothing changes until we step across and hold each other. We erase that line with love and mercy and faith, until it never existed: that salt is the tears of a million children, caught in an hallucination that we're different from each other. The lie that you're alone. Become more Cylon or become more human, all the angel needs from you is this: to become more. To rise.
Roslin and Tory watch Caprica making out with the angel, heads cocked cutely. "...Okay. What do you think she's doing now?" Heh. They stare some more; Laura thinks. "Like she's talking to something or someone. I don't know. I've seen her do it before." And not just her, you've seen this behavior before. Put this together with me. Or don't: the truth would only scare you.
Down in Dogville, there's a riot of people grabbing at Robert; Buckminster screaming that he's killing them. Buckminster orders his countrymen to lynch Robert, and they surge forward; the Helo Suit jumps into the mix and pushes them back, a horde of Marines at his side. "He killed my father!" shouts Buckminster; Robert scoffs at his ignorance. Buckminster whimpers in his rage and grief, but gives in.
Helo grills Robert about Buckminster Senior, noting that the father and son are fundamentalists: "What made them change their minds about getting immunized?" Nothing, of course. Mrs. King is the one who gave in, who went against her faith to save her son; Buckminster's the other side of the coin, who didn't. Robert admits he administered the bitamucin on his own, with that proud face. "Look, it was the middle of the night. I was doing my rounds, and the old man was screaming in pain. I mean, what was I supposed to do?" Helo admits he's confused: aren't they rationing? Buckminster Senior was sick well over 48 hours, and thus a loss. Robert finally admits that Buckminster was marginal, but then tosses his clipboard around and yells at Helo for awhile about how he's not apologizing for doing his job, and how there are two Picons starting to present symptoms that he needs to treat, and runs off. Helo Suit looks at his Big Book of Judgments and realizes Robert is officially in the Not Virtuous category, at this point.