“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