Gaius Baltar

As a young lad, I would often run to the top of the small hill to the east of my family's house, with a model of the Apollo spacecraft in hand, pretending I was transiting to the moon , and then returning to earth by splashing down in the creek just to our west. I was exuberant and full of energy in my youth, a typical toxic american male, and would often take off across the pasture or down to the creeks in bare-feet, running thorough the trees and across the gravel without a care in the world. ...