Flashback. Chiana is twitching on the floor of a Styrofoam cave, gasping in pain. Neri, who looks like another refugee from Velvet Goldmine, helps her sit up as she whimpers, "I can't believe how much it hurts." He says he got through it, so she will, too. His voice is surprisingly gruff. Chiana confirms that once this is over, the "contagion" will be out of her system. Neri says they'll both be clean, adding, "I just wish I could say the same for all the others." Chiana says, "We'll be better when we're out of here. When we get off this planet." Neri bats his mascara-ed lashes and says that he's not going with her. He explains, "Somebody high up in the Establishment gave me the antibody. I saw him. He's the one they're after. I can identify him." Chiana thinks this is all the more reason to flee, and I kind of support her. Neri says that "the Establishment" wants to spread the contagion through the galaxy, so they'll be very interested in finding out who gave Neri the antibody. He argues that they're less likely to get caught if they split up, but swears that he'll see Chiana again someday.
Back on Moya, Chiana says that hundreds of Nebari were infected with this unspecified disease. Crichton asks how they were supposed to spread it around. Chiana says, "Through carnal contact. Neri and I were young. We did an admirable job for them." Crichton asks why she didn't tell them this before, and China explains that the writers hadn't come up with it yet. Well, actually she sniffs that she didn't want to explain that her race were trying to wipe out the rest of the galaxy. She adds, "You barely let me stay aboard Moya as it was." Hey, they let Aeryn stay. I'm just saying. We see Milac lurking outside the cell as Crichton guesses that the Nebari want her so that they can catch Neri. And then Crichton gasps and goes down as his collar is activated. He makes gagging noises and humps the floor a little, which I didn't really need to see. Milac gloats, "It is his time, Chiana. Soon it will be yours."
Oh for fuck's sake. Ack! No, just -- hang on, I'm gonna close the DVD window while I talk about this, because I cannot type while this particular image is staring at me from another window. Jesus! Okay, sorry about that. So, Crichton is in a device that would give Malcolm McDowell dry-heaves. His head is immobilized inside a frame, and there are little pinchers holding his eyelids wide open. Very wide. Much too wide. You can see empty space around his eyeball, is what I'm saying. And it's so startling and wrong that it takes a second to process, so my first reaction is always, "Heh, he looks like a clown!" Because of the big collar and then these giant staring eyes. And then I realize what I'm looking at, and then I start swearing. Gah. But wait, there's more! Part of the framework holding his head is also supporting this little U-shaped dealie which ends in two clamps aimed at his eyes. And okay, really, the framework that seems to be holding his eyes open must be holding a prosthetic of some kind, but knowing how it's done doesn't make it any less disturbing. Bleah. So with that happy image in mind, let's proceed. Varla explains that they're going to remove all of Crichton's "negative impulses." What'll be left? She asks D'Argo to testify. And then we see D'Argo, who's all teary. He sniffs, "All the things I've done as a warrior, all the horrible thoughts I've had all the cycles of my life -- even about you..." He bursts into fresh tears and bawls, "I am so sorry!" Crichton calmly says that they'll talk later. D'Argo wails, "Okaaay," and exits. Hee. Sensitive D'Argo is funny.