Olivia Crichton tells us all about it: "She's actually really spiritual. You should hear her stories about religions of all the worlds she's visited! Really an eye-opener. So much cruelty, and so much kindness." And that's Noranti: no filter to distinguish between the Zhaans and the Rygels, so somehow she gets the best out of them both. I love that lady. She sits now outside on the deck, surrounded by a plethora of religious accoutrements: books and cards and a small silver skull; a crucifix. "What constitutes a good religion?" she asks Bobby, her hands folded. "Respect for life? Do unto others." She asks: "Belief in a higher being?" He says of course, she's not so sure. Me neither. "Hmm. Hypocrite." Bobby wonders if she means him, or everybody. "Well? Your religions justify killing, and all forms of atrocious behavior." She looks at the crucifix. So much cruelty, and so much kindness. Bobby, troubled: "Yeah, that's...hard to deal with."
Sociologist Fletcher: "Miss Noranti is not wrong, that we have a history and culture of killing that we continually attempt to wallpaper with justifications and platitudes. I see nothing wrong with what she's saying." This last as though his life depended on it. I think I've made my own position clear. "See," she says. "Killing is often a part of life. What's hypocritical is to condemn, and then make allowances when the situation suits." So, Bobby struggles: "It's okay to kill?" Absolutely, she smiles. "Sometimes you must." But that's not what she's saying: she is saying that the second you divide yourself into the half that is loved and the half that is condemned, you've cut yourself off from God. You divide Canaan and that which is indivisible, and the next thing you know, your eyes go red and you start spiking Rygel and tiny cute little birds. It pulls in upon itself, like a black hole, and you create evil in the world. You learn to fear that which is part of you, and if you're divided in your own house how the hell can you relate to the world outside? Bobby asks if she's in a cult -- "...like a witch or something?" -- and about half the viewing audience rolls their eyes with a grunt of frustration, but Noranti makes everything better: she holds up the skull beside her face and gives the best possible answer with the best possible wacky face. "Not at the moment!"