Alex turns at his wife's voice. "No, you aren't. Hello, Clara."

He dips his chin in acknowledgement, taking a calculated half-step back to open the conversation radius to include Clara. He holds up a hand to indicate Dave, as if to show that he is indeed fine. He stares right at his wife and the eyepatch and her tangled hair and doesn't bat an eye.

"Actually," Alex turns his attention to the capsule in his hand, holding it up. "If either one of you could inject the solution into my systems, I'd appreciate it."