Normally, Rex's answer would be "No." Look, but don't touch. But Odessa's a kindred spirit, somebody who would treat his tools with the reverence they deserve. He runs his fingers over the syringe, touching the glass cylinder lightly, then nods.

"Be my guest." It's a date, after all.

He withdraws his fingers from the syringe, then turns to Odessa. "They're nanomites." That 's' is dragged out slightly, not for effect, but out of habit. "Versatile little helpers. I perfected them back home."