hollowly. "Central is thegovernment."
Penelope stared at him. "Sit down, please. I thought Central was just amachine."
"It is something more than a machine. There is a small corps of personswho live inside the machine to service it and occasionally adjust it,and those persons really are the government--that is, all the governmentwe have." He sat down stiffly, his back straight. "Now then, Mr. Renner,your card today showed a credit balance of a hundred and thirteenthousand points. Is that correct?"
Mark swallowed. "Yes." He looked at Penelope. She was pale. Withdifficulty Mark asked, "Is it your job to check up on people, to see ifthey are entitled to their points?"
"Oh, my, no. Central doesn't care about that. In fact, Central doesn'tcare how much anybody's debit is. We figure as long as a man is in debthe'll try to pay it off. They always do, at least. No, we never botherwith debits, and I don't suppose we ever would."
Mark breathed a sigh of relief.
"But a credit of over a hundred thousand is something else," saidConley. "The machines won't handle six figures without trouble, you see,so there has to be a penalty." He looked very sad. "Now, then, I shallhave to--"
"Wait!" cried Penelope. "His credit is a hundred and thirteenthousand--but I have his slip for thirty-five thousand. If I turn it in,that would fix it up for him, wouldn't it."
Mark felt a warm wave of gratitude toward Penelope. She was a millionper cent; no question about it.
"Well--yes, I suppose so. We don't like these last-minute adjustments,but I suppose--"
* * * * *
She came waving the slip and thrust it into Conley's face.
"There!" she said triumphantly. "Put that on my account."
Conley looked a little sad. "This is your slip?" he asked Mark.
Mark nodded gratefully.
"Let me have your credit card, Miss Penelope. Now, then, I'll transferthese points--hm." Conley's eyebrows raised. "Do you know what yourbalance is now, Miss Penelope?"
Penelope's mouth shot open and she popped her hand across it.
"You have now a hundred and twenty-two thousand," Conley said. He got upfrom his chair. "Well, I'm sorry, folks. That's the way it is."
Mark gulped. "What way?"
"Miss Penelope will have to come with me."
Mark was on his feet. "If she goes, I go," he said dramatically.
Conley looked at him. "If you feel that way about it, there won't be anytrouble at all. You did go over, so I can take you in too."
"In where?" Penelope demanded.
"A certain number of persons is required to keep Central going, as Isaid--actually to be the government. But most of the population today isso apathetic they wouldn't be of any use at all, so years ago some of uswho were in Central got an idea. We discovered that whenever any citizenrebels against the monotony of life today, he or she eventually winds uptrying to gather a lot of points, because that is the only outlet forenergy and ambition. That is the kind of person we need, so when anybodygets over a hundred thousand, the machine warns us. We go after them."Conley picked up his type N hat. "Well, see you in the morning. Punch inyour cards at window 1000. We'll do the rest. And by the way--" He wasat the door. "We start work at eight o'clock."
Mark brightened. "Did you say _work_?"
"Oh, it's only four hours a day, five days a week. The rest of the timeis your own, only of course you can't come Outside. It would upsetthings if the general public learned about us. Yes, it's a regular job;not hard work, but steady work. Gives you something to aim for; thereare promotions, you know, and extra bonuses for those who show promise."
"Work!" Mark said. "Steady work? You mean there'll be something to doall the time?"
"Five days a week," said Conley.
Mark said, "This is so sudden. Why don't you sit down a minute while welet it soak in? We have plenty of enzymes and stuff for a guest, don'twe, Miss Penelope? Why not stay for supper, Conley?"
"No, thanks," said Conley. "We have beefsteak and hot biscuits forsupper in Central."
Penelope shrieked with joy. "Beef!"
Mark was puzzled. "What's that?"
"It's an old-fashioned food," said Conley. "Rather tasty too."
"Please sit down," Penelope begged, "and tell us more."
Conley looked at his watch. "Believe I will. My feet get a little tiredall day from pounding the pavement. But there isn't much more to tell.You'll find out everything tomorrow. And I'm sure you'll like it. We tryto give each person work to challenge him."
"What if a person wouldn't want to go to Central?"
"Very few ever object. Once in a while they are afraid and run away, butwe just register their number with all the machines, and whenever thatnumber is presented for food or clothes, the machines reject the card."He paused. "A very neat arrangement. Of course, inside of Central thepoint system as you know it now will be of no value whatever. We usemoney in Central."
Penelope had a can of synthetic meat in her hands. "Beef!" she saidsuddenly, and hurled the can into the disintichute. "I'm going to starveall night so I can enjoy eating tomorrow."
"So nobody ever gets away?" asked Mark.
"Very seldom, though there's one fellow playing a game with Central. Hemust have gotten wind of us, and he keeps careful check on his points.About once every three months he starts going strong. He'll be puttingin eight or ten thousand points a day. Then his balance will shoot upover a hundred thousand and I'll go after him, but he's always justsigned away a lot of points. Would you believe it, the last time he hadgiven away fifty thousand points to a fellow who claimed a broken back.He said he knew it was a phony, but he had me there and he laughed atme, for he had signed away the points. The slip showed up next day."
Mark looked at Penelope and grinned. "We should have known that nobodyin his right mind would give away fifty thousand points."
Conley raised his hand in a salute. "See you tomorrow at Central. Ifthey don't keep you busy, look me up."
Mark watched him leave. Then he looked beamingly at Penelope. "Work!Every day! Eight o'clock! We'll have to get up before breakfast! Isn'tit wonderful?"
But Penelope's bird-like eyes were bright. "He said there would bepromotions and bonuses for those who show promise," she recalled. "Iwish we had known that. We could have made a cleanup and gone intoCentral with a record that would make their eyes pop out. Anyhow"--shedug her pad of release blanks out of her pocket and began to figure onthe back. "Let's see, fifty thousand from the little man who's playing agame with Central, twenty-five from the owner of the sidewalk, twothousand for the raspberry, five hundred each from two who made noisesof disrespect, and a thousand from the man who doubted that your backwas really broken. You could have collected two thousand from that lastone," she said absently, "if you hadn't got cold feet. Anyway, that'sseventy-nine thousand points. Now, then, twenty per cent of that isfifteen thousand, eight hundred points."
She wrote rapidly and held out the pad to Mark. "Sign my slip, please."
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