"D'Argo, tell her who the daddy is." D'Argo, sadly, answers that they don't know. We don't know who the daddy is (come on, we totally do!). He nods, like he just realized John is going crazier than they thought. And the Dreadnaught on their six. "Right, we don't know...who," John gulps. It hurts. How many times, I said drink every time Aeryn's not Aeryn, and what it means. No matter how romantic the love scenes, the silence and the ironic declaration of backwards love, no matter how happy they finally are: we don't know what she did during the dark time. And we don't know who the daddy is. What hurts is not that Aeryn's gone, suddenly -- that's just another quest -- what hurts is that it's so plausible, after all that's happened. Sikozu stops watching John and stares at Aeryn now, too.
"Say 'baby,' Aeryn," he pleads. "Aeryn, say 'baby.'" His gun in her face, still confused and full of so much love. So much concern for him, for what he's going through. "Say 'baby.'" He's close to crying. Her mouth moves. "Spell it." Aeryn stares at Sikozu, her partner and friend this week, and back to John. He begins to sing. "A-B-C-D-E-F-G...H. I. J." Aeryn begins to sob, looking back at him. "Where's Aeryn? Aeryn?" Even weeping, her hand travels down to her pistol, cocking it in its holster. He stares into her eyes; she starts to draw. He shoots her in the face, point-blank. Now, he's ready for politics.
Smoke rises from her hissing head; D'Argo jumps forward, then just stares. One side of Aeryn's lovely face is bubbling plastic and fused wires. Her eye, the remaining eye, flutters and closes. Sikozu says, softly: "Bioloid." D'Argo asks, "What's a bioloid?" and Sikozu says, pointing: "That." Sikozu knows a lot of shit about a lot of shit, have you noticed? Aeryn's head throws sparks, quakes, melts down her side. As D'Argo comes near, the bioloid falls backwards like a post, thudding into the ground.