At first glance, there seems to be little rhyme or reason to the messy organisation of capsules, specimens and notes scattered around the lab. Looking closer, you realise that while reason is lacking twofold, rhyme is present, with strange shorthands and codes being scribbled on the capsules and tagged onto the specimens, probably for ease of remembering. The scientist, attempting not to lose his thread of thought, is muttering a bizarre mnemonic which seems to be related to genetic sequencing. You decide to leave him to it.