Aeryn begs her to stop, as the Nurse injects her again. It's an Inanna story for Aeryn, too. Digging down below the lies and the stories we tell about ourselves; taking them off like clothing. Retching with pain as the skin and layers come off, like Aslan in the moonlight. The only story that means anything at all. "You lied!" Aeryn cries out, falls back. "We found record of Vendrall DNA. Your embryo is not the product of one of Vendrall's sons." Jenek paces around Aeryn on the table. "Well, Lechna lied to me!" There is no Lechna. "There is Lechna!" Morrock shouts to leave her alone, and is ignored. How much of this is theatre? They've doubled the strength of the serum; Aeryn begs for mercy. She weeps. "Stop it!" screams Morrock. "She's telling the truth! You'll kill the child!" Jenek leans over her: "Is John Crichton the father of your child?" She sobs, her own flesh anathema, as she tells a truth we've never heard (or does she), and your stomach turns over watching her do it, and hearing her say it. It's a prayer to Djancaz-bru.
"I've already told you, it's Lechna's. Not Crichton's. How many times do I have to tell you? I knew Lechna before I went onto Moya. I was on Moya to watch Crichton. As soon as I left, I went straight back to Lechna." Her sobs shake her body. "I have never, ever loved John Crichton. I've never loved him." The false image -- the thing you never wanted her to say, because it's all too possible. Twenty-five percent is a very small number.
"You lie. Tell the truth." When Aeryn left Moya, she laughed with a man. She was so sophisticated, so worldly. So unlike the coltish tomboy we know. A man in many necklaces sits on a stool, laughing. More men laugh. She shoots the laughing men, bashes one in the face with her gun, snapping another's neck. Beating in one laughing man's face with her elbow. She leaves the dead men and approaches Lechna. PK Trelk Girl. "Ter...terminal soldiers..." Lechna smiles up at her from his seat. "Lechna..." Lechna and Aeryn kiss, the camera whirling around them. "I forgot all about Crichton," Aeryn weeps, to herself. "It was..." Aeryn and Lechna embrace. "I completely forgot about Crichton. I forgot all about him." Self-hatred but no pity in her voice. She shakes, and weeps. Aeryn and Lechna laugh, and kiss. So much easier this way. How much of this is theatre? How good is she? How bad is she? Are we back in the realm of the known? Will we ever know for sure? She lies on the table, weeping with exhaustion after working so hard to tell this story.