Dolores found herself in single file behind an armed stranger. She examined his clothes and realized there was a familiarity about him; a leather vest, wide brimmed hat, and tall cowboy boots. He looked like the man who broke into her family's ranch but without a cold presence. Dolores delved deeper into her memory; this was no stranger; this man was Teddy. An emotion spread over her that she couldn't describe, but it overtook her with an intense passion. This man was a dear friend, her future lover. He arrived at her home every day; precisely the same time, in precisely the same way; horseback. He would follow Dolores as she rode her steed through the rolling hills of rye and grain. Immediately, Dolores's mind returned to the present; why is he here? Why am I here? Instantly, her brain was overcome by the infamous phrase. You know, Dolores; you know why you're here. To serve. To slave. She slapped at her face as a fly buzzed around her head and landed on her cheek. She could not kill it. She was too slow; her mind was burdened by the voice in her head. Suddenly, Teddy's hand moved; he reached back and grabbed hers, firmly but gently. Within Dolores's manufactured mind, a random neuron shot, and her hand squeezed his. The fly continued to buzz around her face but was stopped as Dolores caught it between her thumb and forefinger. She stared into its beady eyes; in some ways it resembled her; caught between truth and superstition; torn over doubt and reason. As she contemplated this, more neurons shot and she squished the fly between her programmed fingers.