She whips back around to face her with a sharp intake of breath. She is an artificial intelligence. That might explain the vague familiarity of her voice, the flat chime that rings so similar to that of the A.I. employed by the Jaeger Program. Could there be some kind of cross-universal alignment? Mako leans closer, rapt - and immediately shifts backward as the other woman erupts into the loudest, angriest fit of sneezing Mako has ever seen.

She tries to stifle a low giggle, and fails.

"There are a lot of flowers," she says, her eyes far too wide and innocent as she bites the inside of her cheek desperately to keep from smiling. She has a feeling the A.I. would not appreciate. "You might have allergies."