Remo phoned a long distance number and heard a recorded message. On the beep signaling that he could speak, he said:

"Done."

"Be more specific," came the voice over the phone. One would think he was talking to a person if one didn't know it was a carefully programmed computer.

"No," said Remo.

"Your information is inadequate. Be more specific," said the computer.

"The four assigned were done clean. All right?"

"That is the four assigned were done clean. Is that correct?"

"Yes," said Remo. "Are your transistors clogged?"

"Blue code, purple mother finds elephants green with turtles," said the computer.

"Up yours," said Remo and hung up. But as soon as the receiver clicked off, the telephone rang again. It was the computer.

"Use your blue code book."

"What blue code book?" Remo asked.

"Be more specific."

"I don't know what you're talking about with your garble," Remo said.

"Code book blue works off the date and the volume you were given four months, three days, and two minutes ago."

"What?" asked Remo.

"Two minutes and six seconds ago."

"What?"

"Ten seconds ago."

"Oh. You mean the poem. Just a minute." Remo rummaged through a rusting cookie tin made vulnerable by the salty air. He found a sheet torn from a book. He did the counting of words from the date.

"You want me to blend a porcupine?" said Remo.

"Let me repeat, purple mother finds elephants green with turtles," the computer said.

"I got that. It means blend a porcupine… one, two, April six, divide by four. Add a P before the vowel. Right. Blend a porcupine. This is a great code."

"Breakdown," said the computer. "Hand up and hold."

Remo hung up and the phone rang as soon as the receiver touched the cradle.