Running guns to the courier. Larry's on the phone and Sam smiles when he speaks to him, more groceries and more chances to remember why they married. He says goodbye to him in Tauron; Larry used to love that, before he saw the scars. When the city workers stop in front of them he smiles at Demos, his partner today, and says goodbye to Larry. Sam and Demos relax into the comfortable rhythms of bitching; they drive a hearse for cover, for guns, and they laugh. But they're not city workers. Another car pulls up behind the hearse and the men in suits pull guns.
Guns are the province of a ratty man, Atreus. He takes point, aiming his gun at Sam's head and offering to kill him right away. Sam calls him adelphi and asks for mercy. One death begets another, the line of blood continuing, calling blood for blood; his name is Atreus for a reason. Demos lies dead and Atreus holds his gun to Samuel's head and pulls the trigger, laughing. The soil calls to Sam and then its call recedes; Atreus was only being cruel. No more bullets. "You tell your Guatrau to stay out of our gun business, or the soil is gonna get crowded." Demos lies dead; a web of blood and Tauron honor connects him to the next thing, and to the gun trade, and to the deaths back on Tauron, and to the corruption that lies atop the city, floating like a film on water. They leave him, in the rain and in his debt.
"All the flavor and none of the calories," Daniel says, snacking in the floating world. All the sensation and none of the weight. Those orphan boys were so starved for meat that they ate the dirt, and now they live on Caprica where they've never known famine. All the enjoyment and none of the guilt. They're so starved for connection they fill NCC in droves, fucking and killing and searching for meaning in graffiti and strange mysteries. He floats above the world, neither in it nor of it, eating food that tastes and then is gone.
"What are you working on?" his wife asks, and he blushes. "Well, not to put too fine a point on it, but I'm working on you. I'm refining the algorithms that extrapolate personality traits and memories from online data. Still, it seems like I've got a long ways to go." Amanda smiles and jokes: He needs to work on her brain some more, because she's not getting it. All the taste and none of the calories. She certainly feels real; she can't even understand him when he says she isn't. Not really.
"I may not be perfect, but I am good at some things," says his wife. "I bet I could please you." He laughs, a bit uneasily; healthy sex drive and a desire to please are baseline for every avatar, in the floating world. Every person is an object for sale and their responsibility is to our pleasure. In twenty years Sharon Valerii will be born on Troy, a doomed mining settlement off ugly Aerilon; Sharon Valerii was never born and only floats atop that world. Made to love, and be loved in return.