Not entirely a snake-oil salesman. On their behalf she will go to the Blessed Mother on Gemenon, to plead for "divine recognition of the differently sentient." In the One True God's eyes, she'll need all the acceptance she can get for them. When she arrives, she will be greeted by Mother's closest and most trusted advisor, and Odin will let her into the Mother's chambers, and Clarice will be met by a towering Cylon in that holy bower, and by Lacy Rand, in the Mother's robes, blessed and waited on by the Cylon. So young, and so holy. By the prideful light in Clarice's eyes, Lacy will be obliged to remind Sister Willow to kneel.
The girl will come, sometimes, to the shores of the Colony dreaming. This darling daughter of Daniel, whose dream once saved the world. Whose dream, it's said, we may all live in still. She'll be afraid to tell the others about her little friend, so wise and wild, so fierce in her love of God. She won't be able to ask their help. But the girl is so sweet, so full of faith, that Ellen will tell her what she can: How bodies are made, made and washed in the waters of Resurrection. The Prayer to the Cloud of Unknowing. Every song that she can sing.
"In the real world, you have bodies made of metal and plastic. Your brains are encoded on wafers of silicon. But that may change. In fact, there is no limit on what you may become."
The bodies will roll off the assembly line, each generation faster and stronger, sleeker. Each generation closer to God's image, closer to man's. But not close enough. Never close enough. Perhaps we won't allow it. We'll make excuses, but the valley will be too uncanny; the country too undiscovered.
In time, years and years from now when her parents are older, Zoë will finally get her first body. Not a Cylon body, like they had four thousand years ago on Kobol; not like the ones the Five were able to recreate two thousand years later, when the Twelve Colonies were first being settled. Something less, but so much closer. Fabric skin over metal bones; mother's art and father's craft. The Drs. Graystone will stare down lovingly into the waters of the resurrection, and wait for her, to be born again to them. She will awake, in her new body, and take in one great gusting breath. For a moment she will be cold, and she'll be afraid, but they will wrap a towel around her, their darling daughter, and cover her in kisses. Out of the dream-house and into the dream.
They will strive, climb higher. But they won't be able to give the Cylon what they want. That broken, that half-secret taken from a friend a dream away, on the edge of the net and the firmament, is the best that they will be able to do for the children of humanity. They will never quite be able to see over the low wall that separates them; that keeps the Cylon an undiscovered country.