Maldis offers to help John with a physical example of Crais's problem, and then there's a hologram of the dead guy, Tauvo (Tauvo!) Crais. "Officer Tauvo Crais reporting. It's an honor to be on board, sir. Captain's bars suit you, my brother!" Crais wigs. John demands to know why Maldis is doing this to Crais, which is nice because (a) John is nice, even right now, but (b) also because that's the whole answer. Maldis is forcing Crais to look at the thing, but not so he'll get better: it's so he'll get worse. Maldis then does a Before & After and makes the fake Tauvo burst into flames. Crais wigs. "And Crichton did that," Maldis giggles. Crais wigs and also jumps over the firepit. Maldis offers his belief that it doesn't really matter what John says, Crais is going to kill him. O RLY? Are we having another dÃ©jÃ vu episode?
Aeryn shoots at the door of the creepy corner of the bazaar where nobody ever, ever goes. Nothing happens. D'Argo believes the door is protected "by an evil spell," and she assures him that those don't exist. He's not so sure. Zhaan enters and tells them that all the guns can't hurt Maldis even if they got in there, because he is incorporeal. Aeryn asks what can hurt him, then. Zhaan: "I can." It costs her. Aeryn invites her to commence hurting him. "What are you waiting for?" she asks. Man, the panic. She's been freaking out since the teaser. It's John! "A third choice, though I know there are only two."
That's what she does: like last week with the Sheyang. Can't run, can't fight. Guess you have to break the rules and betray yourself. "Let that evil flourish, or unleash another evil against it." She asks D'Argo how he'd call it. Respect. "I suppose I would choose the lesser of evil." NO SUCH THING. The relativity of evil is the most evil lie of all. Get a little on you or a lot, doesn't matter, but ignore it or explain it away and you've become a lie. A half-step off what you were. Minor key. Do the thing or don't do the thing, but don't dither around about whether or not you'll still deserve the gold star at the end of the day. Your goodness is the bedrock on which you're standing, all the time. It's all you've got. You can't wish it to giant size by sitting in a room and praying for hundreds of years any more than you can mourn for it having turned very tiny. It doesn't change size or shape, it just is. It's what you come home to, when you're alone and safe. She looks and looks and looks for it, and the whole time she's standing on it, it's what's holding her up. It's God, and she spits on it. Over and over.