The Status Civilization

"But, sir," Wonderson said, "diamonds and such have no intrinsic value. They haven't since '23, when Von Blon wrote the definitive work destroying the concept of scarcity value." "Of course," Barrent said, at a loss for words. Wonderson looked at the rings. "I suppose these have a sentimental value, though." "Certainly. We've had them in the family for generations." "In that case," Wonderson said, "I wouldn't want to deprive you of them. Please, no arguments, sir! Sentiment is the most priceless of emotions. I couldn't sleep nights if I took even one of these family heirlooms from you." "But there's the matter of payment." "Pay me at your leisure." "You mean you'll trust me, even though you don't know me?" "Most certainly," Wonderson said. He smiled archly. "Trying out your Opinioner's methods, aren't you? Well, even a child knows that our civilization is based upon trust, not collateral. It is axiomatic that even a stranger is to be trusted until he has conclusively and unmistakably proven otherwise." "Haven't you ever been cheated?" "Of course not. Crime is nonexistent these days." "In that case," Barrent asked, "what about Omega?" "I beg your pardon?" "Omega, the prison planet. You must have heard of it." "I think I have," Wonderson said cautiously. "Well, I should have said that crime is almost nonexistent. I suppose there will always be a few congenital criminal types, easily recognizable as such. But I'm told they don't amount to more than ten or twelve individuals a year out of a population of nearly two billion." He smiled broadly. "My chances of meeting one are exceedingly rare."