Gunslinger Gnosis: 2. Orione (Orion)

The Botched Raid, Again

A lone Old World Swallowtail, drawn to the wan illumination, clings to a dilapidated lightning fixture that flickers in the gloom. A beautiful creature, one that does not belong here, forced to rely on such a feeble source of light and comfort... but it will have to do. The subdued music waits with nervous anticipation as Henrietta follows Jose closely up the stairwell:

Jose: "Until I confirm the witness is there, do not take action."
Henrietta: "Yes, Jose."
Jose: "If we can't confirm him, we'll withdraw without causing any trouble."
Henrietta: "Yes."

Ringing the bell to a room he puts on a bland smile while Henrietta stares forward solemnly, trying hard to be ready for him. It is the raid from Fratello again, just before the violence erupted.

In that episode, the focus was on Jose and understanding how sympathy, pity, and regret molded his relationship with Henrietta. His final failure in the van confirmed how much these tendencies affect his girl.

In Orione the crucial events will be revisited, but with an emphasis on Henrietta and how she experiences the world. The beginning lines present a puzzle: why did she disobey? With conditioned devotion and explicit orders she should not have attacked.

The raid unfolds catastrophically as it did before, with the flashback sequences excised. It is shockingly brief: in under a minute every armed man lies dead. The effectiveness of the cyborgs is horrifying.

During the aftermath there are several alterations. When before Jose's irate face could be seen as he punished Henrietta by radioing in failure, now her reaction is shown. She was already dispirited, and hearing his words her eyes widen further in pained realization, having not lived up to his expectations. He didn't have to berate her; it was petty frustration to do so.

When Jose inquires about her arm, her answer was previously heard from around the corner as Ferro entered the room. Here again the focus is on Henrietta, who is downcast and trembling as she reports, "I'm fine." A certain confirmation of the statement's inaccuracy even as she tries to put on a brave front. Henrietta is devastated, and so assuredly did not act out of defiance or an undervaluation of the mission.

Finally, Jean is shown next to Rico as they pack up. He is tight-lipped with anger as he removes his headset and orders her to prepare to return home. This mission failed and it was Jose's fault, just like he feared. However, Jean has the self-control to not rage publicly at his brother; he will save his venom for a private meeting later.

Tabula Rasa

Jose once again fails to comfort her in the van, but now the focus is on the child:

"I... I just wanted to help you."

Henrietta knows she messed up, she hates herself for it, but won't he please forgive her? All she wants is to serve him, and even if she didn't do it right this time she really was trying to do what was best. As she speaks she clutches his coat ever closer to her breast; Henrietta desperately needs to hear words of comfort, and it is clear by how tightly she holds his coat who she needs them from.

But he says nothing. Henrietta can't comprehend the swirl of countervailing impulses that inhibit Jose from acting, and after telling her to visit the doctor he remains silent for the remainder of the long ride. To her the narrative is simple: he gave her an order, she failed that order, he got angry with her, and now he won't talk to her even after she apologized. It's all her fault and she will not be forgiven.

Having arrived back at the base, Henrietta tremulously exits the van. She attempts a stoic walk, but is too mortified to maintain the act and shortly breaks into an ashamed trot to get out of Jose's sight. Her tender heart is hurting so much at his implicit rejection, the handgun affixed above her schoolgirl skirt reinforcing this incongruous combination of assassin and child.

Jose watches her with concern, but continues to be silent. He knows what she is feeling, but still cannot bring himself to say anything in his dismal exhaustion. After she passes he does not move, allowing her to enter the building without him. Whether he is kindly giving her a reprieve or merely buying breathing room for himself is unsure; very possibly both.

Henrietta is admitted to the operating room to repair her arm. The details are hidden from view, although the grisly sounds indicate significant work. A piece of artificial muscle tissue, out of focus, passes the camera. However, this is the last time such things will be given attention; there is an essential indifference to the cybernetic details past this point, for it is the lesser part of the series.

Despite her being unconscious, Jose has not left; he is genuinely concerned, even if he can't face up to her while awake. He asks how she is doing and the doctor conveniently answers about her arm, assuring him the damage is relatively minor and that it won't have to be replaced. But he continues on:

Doctor: "Don't misunderstand me. She'll still need surgery every time she's injured. The conditioning takes a heavy toll on their bodies. If this keeps happening, they could grow dependent on it or suffer from memory dysfunction."
Jose: "I see..."
Doctor: "The implants are repaired easily enough, but their impact on the brain and living tissue is substantial."

This was mentioned before in the meeting with Jean, but here it is made clear by the expert: the devices of the agency are terminally degenerative to these loyal victims. It is a burden placed on the girls simply to use them as assassins. Everything comes back to this. It is pure expedience, and Jose's leaden response shows he knows this all too well.

The doctor now asks the question on everybody's mind: why did Henrietta go out of control today? Jose adjusts his tie in discomfort as he replies:

Jose: "She keeps count of the bodies she creates for me..."
(A long pause)
Doctor: "That's... a sad story."

This is not an answer. It is an admission, but it implies much. Henrietta does not merely fulfill her duties, following orders with no elaboration. She actively seeks out ways to impress him, and values her servitude as a positive good. He does not detail further, but as he speaks his nervous tic shows itself; this behavior on her part is yet another personal failing. Jose does not want her to be like this, yet this is what he has done to her.

The operating theater fades and Jose is seen walking alone down a seemingly-endless hall; the path that stretches before him, and the burden he carries, is interminable. The doctor's warning continues to haunt him as he leaves the building:

"I know you're fond of this girl, but shouldn't you increase her level of conditioning? Treating a cyborg assassin as a normal girl will only result in unhappiness."

So Jose is doing more than just handling Henrietta in a kindly manner that minimizes the damage from conditioning. He is actively molding her into something else. Answering why he can do this, the scene shifts to the past to where Henrietta sits in her bed after awakening:

Children brought to the agency undergo mental conditioning in addition to physical modification. Fortunately for her, her past memories were erased as a result.

With the removal of her memories, Jose was handed a blank slate on which to write. Unable to accept the consequences of his actions, and the reality of what she had become, he decided that she would play the part of a regular child. In this way he can hide from his conscience, convinced that she can live a semi-normal life in this unnatural place. But as the doctor observed, and the day evidenced, this is a project which is bound to cause suffering.

The Problem

Still in the past, Jose is walking with Henrietta along a colonnade at the agency; her first outing after arrival. A repetitious creaking fills the air as they continue toward the camera, Jose's face above the frame. Henrietta blinks slowly at the sight of what is approaching before looking up at Jose for guidance. She momentarily returns her neutral gaze forward in the same expression he must be wearing. Ignore this, pretend it isn't there.

As the sound gets louder there are piecemeal shots of the object; not revealed all at once, as though the viewer were trying to avoid it. Eventually the whole is forced: it is a wheelchair, occupied by a girl in a faded lavender shirt. It would seem inoffensive, yet there is something unnerving about this image. It resists being observed directly or watched for too long.

Both pass the girl without acknowledgement, but after a few steps Henrietta cannot help herself and pauses to stare back at this other cyborg. It is a deep recognition, a premonition that this too is her future. Having just started her new life she is faced with its inevitable end, the height of Tema I swelling in agreement.

Jose, seeing Henrietta has stopped, calls her name. "Keep here, continue, don't look at that. That won't happen to you," he seems to say. She did not ignore the truth like he did, and as he cannot confront it, he refuses to allow Henrietta to contemplate it either. This is a problem which must be addressed if she is to be the happy girl he needs her to be.

Afterward the two are sitting in the cafeteria, Jose staring out the window looking for answers with Henrietta silently across from him. She picks up her cup to drink, and it draws him back into the room to wearily appraise this behavior. He is considering something: the first page to be written.

Sneaking Out

Jose is planning an outing and Ferro assists him with the paperwork as a bored clerk watches; even this place needs bureaucrats. Henrietta obediently stands a few steps back with a glassy stare. As Ferro continues to help Henrietta's eyes narrow in displeasure, and when the woman innocently leans in to clarify a point Henrietta's expression completely sours. She does not like Ferro this close to Jose.

Her glower is shortly interrupted by another person entering the room. It is Jean. She turns to look, and on recognition meekly averts her eyes, hoping he won't notice her. This is the first time a cyborg has been seen to react to him, and it is not good; her whole body seems to shrink, instinctively withdrawing in the presence of his veiled malice. Wasting no time he walks up to Jose:

Jean: "Where are you taking her?
Jose: "Nowhere special..."
(Jose keeps his eyes pointedly on the page)
Jose: "Is that all?" (To the clerk)

Jose can't stand up to his brother, but he can try to sneak around him. Now caught he acts evasively, and tries to slip the completed form to the clerk before Jean can intervene. However, his older brother is too swift and plucks it from the desk. He has no patience for these games, and no need to play them.

As Jean reads everybody holds their breath. Henrietta is not alone in her unease toward this man. He doesn't evoke an explicit fear, but there is no doubt that he wields authority. On this occasion he pleasantly consents with a smile and a recommendation of a tomato dish at the destination restaurant; perhaps Jose is coming around to possessing a cyborg. Jean may be pathologically cold toward the girls, but he is not pointlessly disagreeable. In a way, this is more worrisome.

Lessons Not Taught, Lessons Not Learned

At the restaurant, Jose and Henrietta finish their meal, having taken Jean's suggestion for the al pomodoro choice. As the waiters clean up, Jose initiates his plan:

Jose: "Do you understand? Not only must you study and train for your work, you must also learn how to act properly in the outside world."
Henrietta: "Yes, sir."
Jose: "When drinking tea, hold the saucer and make no sounds."
Henrietta: "Yes, sir."

In both answers, Henrietta is carefully controlled and blank. This is where it begins, an empty automaton fully prepared to accept his instruction. He hides the project under the guise of work-related education, but soon tips his hand with procedures on politely drinking tea. Having her not make a scene in public is understandable, but knowing the fine niceties of etiquette is frivolous to being a weapon. This is solely for his own comfort.

Yet there is something incongruous about Henrietta as well. Last scene she reacted with vexation, surprise, and just a bit of fear while Jose wasn't looking, yet here she reverts to soulless mannerisms. Even as he describes drinking protocol, and without changing her stony face, she casually places a sugar cube into her cup before sipping. The sweet tooth that she demonstrated while at tea with Triela is already present. Henrietta emphatically has an innate personality and preferences.

Jose watches carefully and with no small measure of worry. He needs her to play this role to perfection. She does not disappoint, delicately drinking with no sound. Satisfied, he closes his eyes and takes a sip of his espresso in return. Curiously, he has her drink tea but he does not do so himself. She is instructed on how, but cannot imitate him, the most natural way for a child to learn any mannerism.

His farce is soon interrupted as the waiter picks up the silverware in the process of innocuously clearing the table. Hardly anything to be worried about. But from Henrietta's perspective the knife hovers in front of Jose's throat, causing her to freeze mid-sip as the pleasant music gives way to an ominous resonance. Jose may be in danger and all other functions have been suspended until this threat is dealt with.

Springing from her chair, Henrietta charges around the table faster than the men can react. In a single smooth motion she grabs the waiter's wrist and twists it behind his back, relieving him of the knife. Now armed she spins it expertly in hand and moves to stab him. Overcoming his shock just in time, Jose yells her name, causing her to stop mid-thrust. In the first expression she has shown all scene, her eyes widen at the sound of Jose's obvious distress. She did something wrong.

Raising her head curiously, she looks up at him with a doll stare, awaiting instructions like a good automaton. She's not sure what's wrong, but he obviously didn't like what she was doing, so she stopped; what next? The potency of the conditioning cannot be denied, with such a minor stimulus eliciting lethal response. Yet unlike the raid, it is already switching off, the pleasant music returning. The conditioning still cannot explain her later rage.

Jose stands rooted in place, once again robbed of words at her actions. It is a toxic combination of horror and guilt. Horror that this is what Henrietta is and what she does. Guilt that she does it for him. This act which was intended to hide both of these facts has faltered, leaving him appalled and strangled by regret:

"Let go of him! Go back to your seat!"

Overwhelmed by his own emotions, all Jose can think of is that he wants it to stop, leaving the query her stare conveys unanswered. But Henrietta cannot understand. All she can see is that he isn't happy, and that it is clearly her fault. Accepting his orders, but none the wiser, she calmly returns to her spot and reverts to standby mode.

The waiter watches her in wary shock, and quite understandably so. Jose apologies, but is hardly noticed. To ensure the point is made, he interrupts the man's gaze with a 500 Euro bill, apologizing again pointedly, and slips it discretely into the waiter's front pocket. Not giving time to disagree, Jose spins him around forcefully and sends him away. As Jose takes his seat, Henrietta speaks up:

Henrietta: "Did I do something I wasn't supposed to?" (Leaning forward slightly)
Jose: "Let's just continue our meal."
Henrietta: "Yes, sir." (Leaning back)

The conditioning cannot inquire; it is the girl, and Henrietta is not stupid. She knew she did something wrong. She heard it in his voice and saw it in his face; it shook her to know how much she disturbed him, and wants nothing more than to fix it. It is not for lack of desire that she remains in error. As she asks, her body language subtly gives her away, leaning forward just a fraction with anxiety. This stolid front is not reflective of the swirling emotions underneath.

Jose's guilt has not abated, though. He can't bring himself to censure her for a cyborg nature that is his fault. Misguidedly, to spare her feelings and his, he dodges the question. Too much to deal with.

Seeing this, Henrietta relaxes to hear he isn't angry with her. Yet she is still uncorrected; this event will only leave her with a memory that she disappointed him and a susceptibility to committing similar mistakes in the future.

The scene ends with a view of the obelisk in Saint Peter's Square gradually watching the seasons change. Henrietta has been at the agency for nearly a year since this debacle. Belatedly, Jose's voice comments:

And thus began my efforts to hold a conversation with her.

The dry comedy of the statement is dulled as the view shifts to Jose at the window in the present, looking out at her after the failed raid. He has not truly talked with her, and these unresolved problems have produced disastrous consequences in his well-meaning girl.

Celestial Bodies

In a brief vision of the present Henrietta is seen on the operating table, the doctor having finished the reconstruction. Tears sparkle in her eyes, and as the camera moves in the tranquil Malinconia ("Wistfulness/Melancholy") begins to play. Her visage fades smoothly into the sky of her mind, revealing what memory elicits such emotion in this most unguarded moment of sleep.

It is a gorgeous day, with billowing cumulus clouds drifting across the blue sky. The deep green forest extends far in the background beyond the compound. An afternoon that seems to have been put on just for display. Jose is lecturing her:

"Listen. You'll be expected to know quite a lot for your work. All successful jobs are comprised of smaller, simpler tasks. I'll put this down in a memo, so study it every day."

With this Jose begins to instruct her in earnest, teaching her many small tips which she can easily understand and utilize. Henrietta listens intently, trying her best for him as she always does. Yet he stops short and looks with concern at her focused dedication. Wordlessly, he reaches over and takes the rifle from her surprised hands. Henrietta awaits an explanation with suppressed anxiety; did she do something wrong again?

Henrietta: "Um...?" (Worried)

At a level below consciousness, Jose just had a feeling. Between her devotion and his speech, she had become oblivious to the beauty around her. Somehow, despite all his errors, that was one step too far; it was unconscionable to rob her like that. As Henrietta continues to stare at him inquisitively, Jose isn't sure what to say; he just took the gun on an impulse. Smiling as a thought comes to him, he instructs her to look up.

Henrietta: "Eh?"

Henrietta is still confused, continuing to stare at him in bemusement rather than the sky; what does looking up have to do with training? Cyborgs are meant to stay focused on their job; it is what she was designed to be. Anything else would be unnatural. Jose insists:

Jose: "Next to that cloud, do you see that brilliant light?"
Henrietta: "What is it?"
Jose: "What shines in the sky?"
(A long pause while Jose detaches the scope from the rifle; Henrietta is staring intently)
Jose: "Well, it couldn't be a fairy now, could it?" (Teasing)
Henrietta: "Is it an airplane?"
Jose: "Good answer. During the war, many people got frightened when they mistook that for an airplane. But if it were night right now, what would you think then?"

Henrietta doesn't know what is going on or what this light might be. Jose has ruled out anything so frivolous as magical fairies, but her own understanding is exhausted with a guess of a manufactured object. If it's not supernatural and it's not man-made, then what is it? To assist with his last hint, that it would be recognizable if she were in the correct frame of mind, Jose holds the scope up to her eye, training it on the light for her. She makes another guess:

Henrietta: "A star?"
Jose: "Almost. It's the planet Venus, a planet that is close to Earth."
(Jose allows Henrietta to hold the scope.)
Jose: "Oh! Make sure not to look at the sun."
(Henrietta continues to gaze at Venus through the scope. Jose holds up the rifle)
Jose: "Even with this rifle, it would be impossible to make a head shot on someone on Venus."

With Jose's explanation completed, Henrietta's face is shown, fixed in silent wonder as she continues to gaze at the heavens. This is a profound shift. She did not know such a place existed. Her reality is a cramped, hard one involving guns and surgery and training. A place bounded by humans and their things. Nothing in her life had prepared her for the idea that there might be something outside of that, beyond the reach of suffering and violence.

As she continues to look an image of the sky drifts across her iris. Everything she is seeing up there finds reflection in her as well. The wind picks up gently, stirred as she is inside, and her eye narrows in tranquil apprehension. Something has transpired. Mesmerized, she inquires as a cloud passes over:

"Jose. You really know everything, don't you?"

Jose does not respond, but he does not have to. In the struggle of her life, he has given her a moment of true peace where it no longer mattered what she was or how well she was doing. He helped her look up. This is the memory that Henrietta cherishes above all others.

A Confusing World

The vision fades as Henrietta opens her eyes on the operating table. She stares at the ceiling, tears running down her face, surprised to find herself once again in this uninviting existence. The doctor's inquiry jerks her into the present:

"Are you awake?"

Sitting up rapidly, her tears spatter the sheet in front of her. For a silent moment the weeping continues before the impression of that place fades along with her drying tears. Further dragging her back to the present the doctor continues dispassionately, giving routine advice about letting the skin set. Inundated by emotion, she buries her face in the sheets. The doctor asks if she had a scary dream:

"I'm not really sure... But my tears just won't stop falling..."

These are different tears. Henrietta isn't scared. She was remembering a beautiful world, a genuine moment with Jose. There were Good things, things which she saw outside and felt within her. It was so real she almost doubts whether she is awake even now.

But what is she doing here? She hurts as she wakes up. She hurts so much. Those memories cannot entirely erase her painful present. It is all too much; it is more than she can understand. So she weeps tears the doctor cannot comprehend, overwhelmed by it all.

Tea Time, Again

Henrietta once again returns to the dormitory with her bloodied shirt, now seen to directly follow on such a potent experience. Her morose stare, which previously only evidenced distress at the raid, is seen to be much more. She is still distraught over the day, but more than anything she is confused. How is it possible for there to be such wonderful things and still be in so much pain? Why is such a memory so rare? What is wrong with her? All of this condensed into:

"Triela, what should I do?"

Such a question has no answer. She is an innocent girl lost in this mess and unable to explain herself or the being she is devoted to. None of it makes sense, but hurts all the same. More than anything she needs a respite from her turmoil, to be told against all hope that it will be okay. And Triela, good Triela, is there for her.

Proceeding as before to the older girls' shared room, the conversation unfolds with Triela asking if Henrietta wants to make Jose proud of her. But now Henrietta's face is shown as she offers her non-committal agreement. Triela is trying, but this is not the answer Henrietta seeks. Despite Jose's implication before, his girl did not act out of a desire to raise her standing in his eyes.

Claes: "Although if I were him, I'd resent being that devoted to."

Claes' criticism rains down again and Henrietta drinks her tea in response, but now the significance is evident. She is holding her cup and saucer just as she was instructed by Jose. It is in these small acts, maintained even when he is not around, that Henrietta demonstrates her unwavering desire to be what he wants. This is the measure of her devotion, exhibiting itself even as it is mocked by a cynic.

But the scene does not end here as it did in Fratello. Claes, watching Henrietta add multiple spoonfuls of sugar to her tea to cheer up, softens and sits up on her bunk:

Claes: "But it's still okay. Young ones, enjoy your youth."
Triela: "What was that? Whose words are those?" (Smiling)
Claes: "Mine."

Claes is not cruel. She wanted there to be some quiet, and resented this disruption. Her statement was only intended to silence, not wound, and now seeing how much it has upset Henrietta she tries to be kindly. It wasn't the child's fault that Triela brought her here unbidden and interrupted Claes' concentration. Yet even in her amends she retains a patronizing aura, letting the little girl know it is okay to be misguided, because Henrietta clearly doesn't know any better.

A Gift

With the sky fading deep blue in the approaching night, Henrietta returns to her room. Alone again, her mood has darkened as well, and she drops into the chair with a desultory heaviness. Her eyes remain mournfully hidden from view. Triela stabilized her, keeping Henrietta from falling apart in emotional tumult, but she could not address the root of the problem.

Wordlessly, Henrietta removes the accusing shirt from the bag and stares at it, punishing herself with the physical evidence that today she let Jose down and he will not forgive her for it. This is the only fact that matters in her world. Before becoming too despondent, a heavy knock at the door rouses her from rumination:

"Henrietta, are you there?"

It's Jose! The effect on the little girl is electric. She hastily affirms her presence but does not invite him in, frantically shoving the ruined shirt back into the bag. It wouldn't do to have such a reminder visible. But she can't make him wait too long; he's here to see her after all! Not sparing a second, she tells him to come in even as the bag is tossed inconspicuously under the table.

In a last scramble she adopts a straight, perfectly attentive posture, just in time for Jose to enter. She is trying hard to be a good little soldier in compensation for her disobedience earlier.

Jose: "How's your arm?"
Henrietta: "Well, it still hurts a bit, but it will be fine." (Monotone... but just barely)
Jose: "Then, can you join me on the roof of the main building later?" (Relieved)
Henrietta: "Understood."

Jose is still fixated on her physical wound, but his smile is genuine; even if it is a diversion from the real problem, it gives him a reason to ask after her condition. He didn't have to be here. Henrietta is putting on her best stolid perfect-servant routine. Can't show him that she was so despairing just a moment ago; to cry in front of him was a terrible shortcoming on her part today.

The contrast with her front at the restaurant is striking and informative. Even as she keeps her eyes forward, answering simply and directly like one would a drill sergeant, her countenance has lost its austere coldness. The uncontrolled blush that fills her cheeks contradicts the forced calmness and belies her true state. Jose's mere presence has suffused her with barely-contained emotion.

"It's cold, so you should wear this."

Jose hands her a new bag to replace the old one, mentally and physically. She takes it carefully from him, grasping the straps with both her hands and keeping it in front of her. Unable to help herself, her eyes lose their enforced flatness and she looks at the present, and then up at his face, before returning back down again. This is what he brings her. She is bewildered, the placid act shattered by Jose's consideration. As he leaves she stammers after him:

Henrietta: "Am I permitted to have this?"
Jose: "I'll be waiting for you on the roof." (Smiling)

She doesn't understand. She failed him today. She failed him so greatly and yet he's giving this to her; it's unimaginable such an insufficient person as herself would be allowed to take it. He simply leaves with a smile, knowing how happy he's made her. With Jose now gone she delicately, almost reverently, carries the bag over to the seat and opens it.

Inside is revealed a beautiful red coat. In a mirror to before she holds the garment in contemplation of what it means about her relationship to Jose. She is enraptured at its import, her mouth slightly open in pure joy before hugging it to her chest. This is more than loyalty. There is only one reason she would react so strongly to his presence, be so hurt by his dismissal, and treasure his gift so greatly: she loves Jose.

This is the difference between the past and the present, and at last an answer for her behavior. Her feelings for him have overwhelmed the original program, sweeping aside its strictures with fervent adoration. She went out of control because she could not stand to see Jose harmed, and would do anything to prevent it, even overriding her implanted compulsions of loyalty. That he gave this marvelous gift to her... he doesn't hate her, even with his inexplicable silence. At that moment, there is no more cherished object in the world.

The Ascent

In a sequence of silent and disjointed views, Henrietta fades from location to location as she makes her way to the roof. She is still not entirely pulled together, the heavy quiet a contrast with the flurry of thoughts and feelings that must be filling her. She messed up. Jose was angry. She cried in front of him. He didn't smile at her. She tried really hard just now. He smiled at her. Did she make up for her mistake? He gave her a coat. Does this mean Jose loves her? She mustn't disappoint him ever again...

As she reaches the top her internal chaos intensifies, the visual skips becoming more frequent. She doesn't know what to think, what to be for the man who stands on the other side of that door. She has reached the climax of the ascent both physically and emotionally, filled with a confused turbulence that seems to have no end.

A Vision for the Seeker

Timidly opening the door and peeking out, unsure of what awaits her, Henrietta is struck by a bracing gust of wind. She narrows her eyes at its strength; how violently her emotions blow against her mind, threatening to keep her trapped inside.

And then she sees them:

The stars. They wheel overhead in a spiraling vision of the night sky. That dim impression of Venus, before just a single untouched light, has multiplied. A hundred times, a thousand times over; the dome of the heavens is filled with wonder. She is awe-struck; there is no other appropriate reaction for such a revelation. Henrietta's vision at last rests on Jose, who greets her:

"Welcome."

She stands amazed at the scene, still recovering from the initial experience. The wind is stilled now and the tumultuous confusion of the stairwell is gone. This sight has calmed the flurries that battered her, swept them away, leaving in their place a peace she did not know was possible.

Even Henrietta's face, which just moments before was full of uncertainty, is transfigured. Her eyes are softer and fuller, the blush a gentle hue. Despite the darkness her face is rimmed with with a nimbus of illumination. Jose beckons her over and she staggers. She can barely keep herself upright, absentmindedly leaving the door open. Everything behind her is forgotten as unimportant.

Henrietta spies the telescope waiting. Jose's eyes narrow in fondness at her open happiness, before turning to the side in regret:

Jose: "I wanted to show you the stars sometime, but not with a rifle scope."
Henrietta: "This is the first time I've ever seen the stars. Why show them to me now?" (Happy)

Jose, despite his failings, is a kind man. He saw how much she appreciated the heavens and wanted to give her an unfettered vision of all this that isn't clouded by the haze of her misbegotten life.

Henrietta, however delighted, is confused. This experience is so wonderful yet it descended from nowhere, independent of her own self valuation. Why would she be chosen now of all times?

On hearing her response he is stunned, the guilt threatening to overwhelm him again. He took the memory of the stars from her. It's all his fault. But then he sees her, staring at him with a pure, gentle love. He closes his eyes and lets out a deep breath, releasing the regret; this is a good moment. Able to forget himself for now, Jose can accept her affection.

Jose: "Yes. A night like this is perfect for stargazing. Think of it as a reward for a job well done today."

At this reminder, Henrietta again becomes downcast. She didn't do a good job today and she knows it; why would Jose tell her otherwise? In her next question there is the slightest pause. She still cannot bring herself to name her misbehavior; it is too shameful:

Henrietta: "Are you not angry... about what happened today?"
Jose: "Do you want me to be?"

As Jose has become so fond of doing, he evades her question, emphasizing its unimportance by continuing to look through the telescope as he speaks. This does not satisfy Henrietta, for it is not the whole truth. He was angry with her in the moment, but seeing how his inconsideration wounded this sincere child he now wishes to retract it. He wasn't able to bring himself to comfort her before, but now he is paying her back as best he can; it is an apology that she cannot understand but fully appreciates.

To get her mind off the topic he invites her over to view Orion through the telescope:

"The hunter Orion was accidentally slain by his love, Artemis. To relieve the grief she felt, Artemis placed Orion's form into the stars so that she could always keep him in sight. That is how the constellation Orion came to be. (Pause) It's quite a sad story."

Henrietta listens intently, but without showing any reaction; she is busy solemnly committing it to memory as a message of great importance. She understands how Artemis felt, for she too would never want to be parted from her loved one. With the tale over, Henrietta asks once again if Jose knows everything. This time he agrees. It is of course a lie, but a sweet one, a hopeful one, that maybe in these moments he is doing something right.

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