The Albin rental space was white, but Hannah didn't trust white places very much. Tethys had been here, in this same space, and it had been white. White, white, white, as if the world was clean and pure and perfect, and Hannah knew better. Too, she knew she belonged to CARNEM, not to Albin, but she was on loan, much like a rental car, and she'd been here, too. From Tethys to the military, and now from CARNEM to Albin, and she was just glad she didn't need to take the bus to the Capital anymore. At least here she could still do her other job, the one that put money into her pocket, because rental cars weren't paid, and neither was she.
She was dressed like offices, because she always dressed carefully for work, and today was no different. And it was like she'd told Jeremiah, and she didn't know who she could trust here. She didn't know if she could trust anyone. She read Eames as being friendly and frightened, careful and cautious, and she read Arthur as being much too smart to ever seem friendly or frightened, and she wasn't sure how much was pretense. She wasn't sure if any of it was truth, and she wasn't very trusting. Most everyone looked at her and saw silly and dumb naivete, but Hannah had stop being all of those things and a very long time ago.
Today, she walked in and looked at the pallet beds, the IV stands, the devices, and she wondered that it was so simple. "CARNEM has a dreaming apparatus that doesn't require any of those things," she explained, understanding that it was probably some prototype made for them by Albin, something new and coming, and she sat on one of the pallets. Polite, ankles crossed, and she glanced at the IV pole. She wasn't at all concerned. She had veins to find, just like real people, and she had red, viscous, synthetic blood running through them. She was synthetic through and through, but her synthetics perfectly mirrored the human body, and even her brain looked like it should. "With their device, you just stand beneath a neon half-moon and it comes down around your head, and it just works," she explained. "They said they were going to have a new one soon, one that just connects here," and she tapped her temple in indication.
Then, she looked toward the door. "Is Arthur coming?" And back again. "You're Eames. I'm Hannah." She cocked he head to the side, a curious little bird, and the gesture would become quickly familiar. "Should I call myself Smith?"