Mark got out of the chair and helped her inside with it. He took off his hat and started uncertainly to leave, but she put her hand on his arm, “No, no. Have supper with me. I’ll tell you all about everything. Glad to. There aren’t many who want to know about things any more.”
Her apartment was neat and clean. It was hard for Mark to connect it with an old woman shrieking points at him. “My name’s Pearl. Point-Plus-Pearlie, they call me. But my real name’s Penelope. You can call me Penelope.”
“Thank you,” Mark said gravely, and sat down. Penelope bustled into an apron and began pulling packages from the freezer. “We’ll have a feed, you and I—a real feed.” She chuckled pleasantly. “After all, you’re paying for it.”
Mark squirmed uncomfortably.
“I’ll tell you how all this started,” Penelope said, popping open a can of high-content protein. “Back before you were born there were insurance companies. At first they were started to insure your life, and—”
“Your life!” Mark frowned. “How—”
“Never mind. Also, they insured you against loss by fire. Then it was loss by collision of vehicles—you’ve never seen an auto, of course—and so on. Finally they got to insuring you against hurting yourself when you slipped on a cake of soap in the bathtub, and then they insured against a suit for damages by someone who might stub his toe and fall down and break a leg on your sidewalk. Follow me?”
“I think so,” said Mark doubtfully.
“Well, there were all kinds of lawsuits. Two men would be in an accident. Both hurt. Their insurance companies would sue each other. Suppose A knocked over a ladder and B fell down on top of him. B’s fall broke A’s arm and it broke his own leg. A could sue B for breaking his arm. B could sue A for making him fall. Well, suppose A was insured by company X, and B was insured by company Y. A and B filed claims against each other’s companies, and everybody went to court.”
“You mean they didn’t agree on damages?” Mark asked incredulously.
“Exactly.” Penelope cut off the top of a bottle of enzymes. “It was pretty dumb. But pretty soon the companies got wise. They formed working agreements.
“When two companies carried insurance on two persons involved in an accident, the companies just presented their claims to each other, and the one with the biggest claim against him paid the difference, while each company paid off the claim of the one it represented. You can see what eventually happened.”
She punched a button and a dinette table popped out of the wall.
“Companies insured people for more and more types of damage, even against being insulted or against a claim for damages for being insulted. The big companies eliminated the small ones, and it was just a matter of bookkeeping among those that were left. Eventually the government took it over.”
“But look,” said Mark, “I don’t see—”
“Don’t rush me.” Penelope put a can into the container-dissolver and punched the button that set out the plates and silverware on the tiny table. “You see, pretty soon everybody was insured for everything possible. People were collecting right and left, mostly small amounts but lots of them. But it took quite a bit of time to file claims and so on. And also, a man spent all he made buying insurance to protect himself. It was a wicked circle. Nobody could quit buying insurance and nobody dared quit filing claims. That’s when the government took over. They simplified things. Once a day you turn your slips into Central and the Machine audits your account. That’s all there is to it.”
“But there’s nothing else to do,” Mark objected. “No entertainment, no work.”
“Why should there be entertainment? Entertainment means work for somebody. No, Central—which is the government, of course—has eliminated work for everybody and at the same time has provided something to keep everybody busy. What work must be done is done by automatic, self-lubricating, self-repairing, self-renewing machinery.” She sighed. “It’s a brave new world. Everything is neatly worked out. Everybody spends all their time gathering points to offset the points they lose gathering points—and nobody seems to mind except a few rebels like you and me. I saw that rebellious look in your eyes when you signed my slip. That’s why I invited you to come along with me. But, as I said, Central keeps everybody busy all day and half the night trying to balance themselves. There’s no labor problem, no unemployment, no relief, no worry about anything.” She paused, to dip the vitamins out of the dissolver. “The only catch is—it’s so damned monotonous.”
Mark blinked, but Penelope whirled on him, the dissolver in one hand. “Why do you think I sit out there and put on my act all day long? Not to get points, though I confess the points are the measure of my success—but because life is too dull otherwise.” She dished out the vitamins.
“You say the government did all this?”
“Yes.”
A thought struck Mark. “Who is the government?”
Penelope was filling glasses from the ice-water faucet. She turned her head and stared at him like a bright-eyed bird. “To tell you the truth, Mark, as far as I know the men who used to make up the government disappeared after the last war, about the time all this automatic machinery was put in. We used to have an election every so often, but I haven’t heard that word for twenty-five years. Do you know what I think?”
“No,” Mark said attentively.
“I don’t think there is any more government!” Penelope said dramatically. “I think all that’s left are the Machine and Central Audit Bureau—which is nothing but a giant posting machine.”
“Have you seen it—Central, I mean? I see the concourse where
