She set the vial down on the counter, slowly and carefully, then opened one of the applicators, holding it in the center of her vision so she could study it. It looked pretty straightforward, just the part that would go up her nose, another part that would go down into the vial, and a connection piece that would allow it to screw in. She set it back down, glancing toward the door to make sure she was still alone, then screwed the top off the tiny vial, holding her breath at the importance of it. If she were to drop it, break it, spill it, things could get very bad. Holding the vial still between two fingers, she screwed the nose piece on with the other hand, the fit perfect. Jemma made sure it was firmly attached, then blew out, pressed down, and inhaled before she could think of the innumerable reasons this was a bad idea. The liquid stung, then burned, and her imagination supplied her with a brief image of the bugs, the nanocreatures, whatever they were, clinging to her mind, her throat, whatever they could reach before they died.
