It's a cross between button candy and a DNA stain. It's the workaday inner working of your innards: all the protein-folding, algorithmic, file de-fragging that your system does in the background; all your genetic markers and mitochondrial bequests and your medical destinies duly noted.

You are an accumulation of mini mutations and someone considers you a Human Resource. "I gave at the office." Is your DNA on file somewhere? Are you sure?