[ WP ] You have an ATM that gives you the exact amount of money you need to survive for the day , how you spend it is your choice . Today you are given $ 70,000,000 .

Orwellian. Big Brother. Fascist totalitarianism. Paranoid, hyperbole-laden minds of the early 21st century decried these themes as seeping into an increasingly globalized, increasingly interconnected society. An avoidable, but conveniently excused method for scrutinizing the life of Joe Citizen and friends. The United States had the worst of these delusional naysayers. 
 
 Well, they were right. But they were just as much wrong. As pessimists generally do, the self-declared defenders of freedom forgot, conveniently, the massive economic and fringe benefits that accompany a world in which every person is accounted for. 
 
 Universal income was just the beginning. A crude, misshapen beast that handed out bi-weekly paychecks tied to an arbitrary inflation index, it nonetheless set the pace for the rapidly developing world of Life Personalization that we are most familiar with today. If only the cynics of yesteryear could see the seamless beauty that swallows the average World Citizen's world today, he would be remiss with contempt for his old self. `` O cruel, needless misunderstanding! O stubborn, self-willed exile from the loving breast!'' He would echo Winston's submission to Big Brother, without irony. 
 
 I make the same mistake, though, and digress with too much of the past's tremors. Today, our tale follows Martin Mellows, and the rather unusual set of tools given to him by The Society. 
 
 Martin's day began quite ordinarily. A mild breeze and calming flutter of wings, courtesy of his Circadian Regulator, brought him out of the reveries of sleep. Water boiled, eggs fried, bacon sizzled and toast toasted while Martin enjoyed an 8-minute shower with de-ionized, de-calcified water whose temperature perfectly calibrated itself to his own. Several outfits were laid out for him, each corresponding to one of his suggested daily tasks. Martin slipped into the first one, a pair of loose khaki shorts and creamy silk t-shirt, and took care of breakfast. 
 
 Following his post-meal coffee and mood regulators, the baseball-sized Task Orb landed and unfolded itself in front of Martin, a sight which many in the pre-Society days would have thought of as magic, or an optical illusion. With the automation of virtually every process, there were few labor or social commitments required of Citizens. Machine maintenance was handled by a small group of devotees, whom very few knew anything about. 
 
 Tasks were nonetheless suggested to Citizens, if nothing else than to maintain a minimal level of engagement and health. They were usually accepted, being so highly customized to each Citizen's carefully monitored biology and disposition as to often surprise the Citizen himself as to his eagerness for it. There were 3 items on Martin's Orb: 
 
 ( 1 ) Walk 2 km and verbally greet 3-5 Citizens. 
 
 ( 2 ) Play 2 or more games of Roomba Ball at the gym. 
 
 ( 3 ) Purchase 21 days of habitation supplies at your local center. 
 
 Martin frowned at the third item. Though uncommon, stock provisioning was not particularly abnormal; it usually occurred when the biosensors detected an oncoming bought of depression or extreme lethargy, though these generally did not exceed a week. Martin decided to complete this task first, as it was the only one he did not look forward to at all. He moved to a small square flushed against the far kitchen wall, casually referred to as the Currency Box; this would dispense the precise amount of money required for the day. 
 
 The square opened with a light hiss, and Martin held out both hands with a familiar underhanded posture, as one might offer a gift. Instead of the expected stack of small bills, a flurry of thickly bundled hundred-dollar notes came whizzing out, knocking Martin several steps back and flooding his kitchen with paper. A sudden, heretofore unheard of buzzing was emanating from the Task Orb, and it was flailing itself around like a fish out of water. 
 
 Then the sirens came.
