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."

Barrent thought about the prison ships constantly shuttling back and
forth between Earth and Omega, dumping their human cargo and returning
for more. He wondered where Wonderson got his statistics. For that
matter, he wondered where the police were. He had seen no military
uniform since leaving the starship. He would have liked to ask about it,
but it seemed wiser to discontinue that line of questioning.

"Thank you very much for the credit," Barrent said. "I'll be back with
the payment as soon as possible."

"Of course you will," Wonderson said, warmly shaking Barrent's hand.
"Take your time, sir. No rush at all."

Barrent thanked him again and left the store.

He had a profession now. And if other people believed as Wonderson did,
he had unlimited credit. He was on a planet that seemed, at first
glance, to be a utopia. The utopia presented certain contradictions, of
course. He hoped to find out more about them over the next few days.

Down the block, Barrent found a hotel called The Bide-A-Bit.