I don't know how long Trixie had been standing outside my cube before I heard her clear her throat.
    "I'm sorry, Trixie" I said. "I didn't see you.  Guess I just got wrapped up in this project.  What can I do for you?"
    "Oh, it's nothing, really," she said hesitantly. "I hate to even bring it up ..."  She paused in embarrassment, then plucked up her courage and continued.  "But it is such a small thing ...  There's a small task ... the A-Scan ... I don't have time for it anymore.  I was wondering if you could take it over."
    "A-Scan?  I'm afraid I don't know a thing about it.  Isn't that a weekly thing?"
    "Yes, it is.  But it's really simple," she said quickly. "Your part of it only takes a few minutes a week."
    "My part?  If it takes so little time, why can't you do it?"
    "Because ... it's not in my functional area!"  I thought I detected a hesitation in there.
    "Well, ...  I guess it's ok, if it's as simple as you say.  So, what's really involved?"
    "You're a real pip, Rex," she said a bit too eagerly.  "All you have to do is cut the weekly request for Celestial Mechanics.  Then they take care of everything.  There haven't been any problems in months."
    "But what does A-Scan actually do ?"
    "It's an asteroid scan.  Very straight forward," Trixie said. "There's one button for 'Start Scan' and another for 'Stop Scan.'  Then there's a light that flashes red for 'Danger!  Asteroid Approaching.'  The next button is 'Aim Laser Cannon,' and next to that is the 'Locked on Target' light, which glows green when the cannon is fixed on the approaching asteroid.  Lastly, there's the 'Fire Laser Cannon' button.  You can't miss.  So to speak.  Anyway, Celestial Mechanics takes care of all of that."
    As she spoke, she wrote the instructions on my white board.
    "Well, that sounds simple enough," I said, peering at the white board. "Ok, I'll do it."
    When I looked up, she was gone.  I may have imagined the hysterical laughter coming from the direction of her cube.

    I had just submitted my first request to run A-Scan.  The response from Celestial Mechanics was almost instantaneous.
    "Your request has been rejected for failure to conform to standards," read the email.
    That was curious, I thought.  I had copied my request from Trixie's previous request.  So I called Celestial Mechanics.
    "Celestial Mechanics.  This is Terry," said the voice on the other end of the wire.
    "Terry," I began. "Rex here.  Why did you reject my A-Scan request?"
    "You have to rename those buttons, Rex.  They're too confusing."
    "Too confusing?  I thought they were clear:  start, aim, fire.  Why is that confusing?"
    "Rex, Rex.  Our mechanics don't understand you guys's complicated projects.  We go by request numbers.  You have to spell everything out for us.  That's why we're requiring all instructions to include the request number."
    "I beg your pardon?" I begged.
    "It's really simple, though," said Terry. "Instead of 'Start Scan,' you'll have, for instance, R2734A.  That's for Request 2734, Instruction A.  Then, 'Aim Laser Cannon' will become R2734B."
    "Terry, that sounds a lot more confusing to me.  How are you going to know which button does what?"
    "It's only confusing to you," said Terry, "because you know all about the project, but you don't know about request numbers.  On the other hand, we know all about request numbers, so it's crystal clear to us."
    "What about the lights?" I asked. "Like 'Danger!  Asteroid Approaching?'"
    "Those are ok," said Terry. "We're only confused about instructions."

    The asteroid nearly took the roof off our office building.  Fortunately, it was tiny and burned out before it could do any serious damage.  I was on the phone to Celestial Mechanics in a heartbeat.
    "Celestial Mechanics.  This is Steg."
    "Steg!" I shrieked. "What's going on?  How did that asteroid get through?"
    "Don't know," said Steg. "I did everything correctly."
    "Let's step through this," I suggested. "What do you see in front of you?"
    "Well, there's R2761A, R2761B, R2761C, and R2761D.  Then there's the little red flashy thing ..."
    "The little red flashy ... Steg!  That's the 'Danger!  Asteroid Approaching' light!"
    "All your fault," said Steg laconically.
    "My ... How is it my fault?  I redid all the instructions the way you asked!"
    "How was I supposed to know what the red flashy thing was?"
    "Because it says, 'Danger!  Asteroid Approaching' on it?" I suggested.
    "It doesn't have a request number on it."
    "Terry said warning lights didn't need to have the request number on them."
    "Well, this is just too confusing," said Steg. "You're going to have to put the request number on your warning lights, too.  Otherwise, how will we know which request they belong to?  But now the instructions should begin with 'I,' and warnings should begin with 'W.'"
    "Ok," I capitulated. "I'll do that."

    The great belch of fire incinerated the entire forest, from canopy to brush.  Then it bolted through the crust on its way to the mantle.
    "Good heavens!" I cried. "What happened?"
    "Celestial Mechanics.  This is Terry."
    "Dang, Terry!  What was that?"
    "Your laser cannon is defective," said Terry. "I fired at an asteroid, and it winged the earth instead.  Looks like the asteroid missed us anyway, though, so no harm done."
    "No harm ... Terry, this one nearly singed my scales off from 20 miles away.  Did you wait for the 'Locked on Target' light to turn green?"
    "Locked on ... what the heck is that?"
    "It's W2813B on this week's instructions," I said.
    "Well, how the heck am I supposed to know that W2813B means 'Locked on Target?'  That's just way too confusing."
    "That's what I said," I sobbed.
    "That's two major incidents in three weeks," chided Terry. "The Chief is going to be very upset with you."
    "With me ...?" I sputtered.
    "It's ok, Rex," Terry intoned soothingly. "We're all dinosaurs, even if we are different species, eh?  We're on the same team, and Celestial Mechanics is going to help you out."
    "You are?" I mumbled stupidly.
    "Yes, indeed," said Terry. "Even though you've been screwing up badly, I'm going to put together some instructions for you on how to fix your process.  You just follow my instructions, and everything will be fine."

    There were 20 pages of instructions.  I read them.  I followed them.  This week's request has 127 separate instructions, each with a request number in it.  Oh.  We also have 16 different prefixes now.  Celestial Mechanics seems happy, so what could possibly go wrong?  The only thing that has me a little nervous is that extraordinarily bright light in the sky.  I think it's growing larger.