178

Bjorn poured himself another cup of coffee, not at all convinced by Maria's arguments. By her logic, people like Hitler would be innocent. After all, he never killed anyone himself.

Bjorn felt suddenly provoked and angry with Maria's arguments, and he had a strong urge to comment on Maria's line of thought, pointing out its obvious flaw. But only registered users could comment, so he was left to simmer with frustration over the ignorance of the woman. Unable to contribute with a rebuttal, he felt the anger swell in him. Suddenly he felt convinced that he had the ultimate counter argument at hand. And he just had to get himself an account on the Blacklist to post this for everybody to see. Letting this woman get away with her nonsense, was just too much to bare. Not least because the woman was obviously influencing people with her flawed logic.

Bjorn opened an account with the Blacklist, filling in the required fields only. He had no desire to say much about himself. All he wanted to do was to post his killer argument against Maria's nonsense. But when he returned to the case against the foreign minister, he got second thoughts. Maria had after all defended a representative of the Norwegian government. Being himself a representative of the government, he could hardly start arguing for the prosecution of the foreign minister. He had to find some other place to post his argument, so he clicked on Maria's name to see what other cases she was commenting on.

There was no lack of cases that Maria had commented on, but the list was confusing, with only titles and status shown. There was no good way to know which one to choose. He recognized the case against the head of the child protection services in Alta, but that was as hopeless a place to post Bjorn's argument as the case against the foreign minister. Bringing up Hitler and the Holocaust in either of these cases would not do. He had to find a case against some private individual, and use his argument there.

Bjorn took another sip of his coffee. Then he recognized the case against Ane and the fish waste she was dumping into the water under her factory. The case was resolved, but that didn't necessarily mean that the comment field was closed. And, with her being an authority figure, Maria might have used her flawed logic there too. Bjorn clicked on the case, hoping to find it an opportune place to put his rebuttal.

Bjorn browsed through the case and the first few comments until he got to the point where Maria had commented that the plaintiffs had no case against Ane as long as there was no damage made to their properties. But Ane was fighting an uphill battle against Jan and Pedro, with the men arguing that they would rather see Ane come up with a solution before any damage was made. If she persisted in dumping fish waste into the fjord, this would surely result in a pollution problem at some point, and then they would demand generous compensation for the damage caused.

At that point, Maria made the comment that Ane was not in fact spewing fish waste into the waters below her factory. This task was done by one or more of her employees. Ane was innocent of any pollution coming from her factory as long as she was not personally doing the polluting. The case should not be made against Ane, but the employees doing the dumping.

"But that's insane," Bjorn thought as he read this. "The poor workers are probably not even aware of the fact that they are doing anything wrong. You can't hold them responsible for this. They are just doing their job." And Bjorn was not the only one reacting as he did. Ane made the very same argument, to which Maria responded that it nevertheless was the case, and that she was putting her employees at risk of being prosecuted if she did not do anything about the situation.

Following up on Maria's comment, Jan told Ane that he would inform all her workers of the risk they were taking. He would print fliers and distribute them among her workers so that no one would be able to claim ignorance. Every worker would know that they may be stranded with colossal fees unless they stop the dumping immediately. And this threat, Jan figured, would most likely set an immediate stop to the dumping. Ane, in his opinion, had no choice but to find a solution to the problem.

What followed was a brief exchange of messages relating to practical issues and conditions required for Ane to continue her business until Sunday when she suggested a meeting with Jan and Pedro to resolve the problem. They all agreed to meet after church, and to let Ane continue her business as normal until then.

On reading this, Bjorn remembered how Ane had approached Jan and Pedro after mass on Sunday. And whatever they had agreed had proved to be fruitful since the case was closed that same evening. There was no explanation to what the three had agreed on, but the case was resolved. The threat against Ane's employees had made her fold, and the case had ended in some kind of compromise.

Bjorn wondered what they may have decided, but he quickly realized that the possibilities were practically limitless. It could have been anything from a joined ownership of the factory, to some practical solution pertaining to the waste itself. Maybe Ane had to pay some monthly fee, or give the men a cut of the profit. There was really no way to tell, and no point in speculating.

Then, looking at the comment field at the bottom of the page, Bjorn realized that his argument would be completely misplaced on this thread. The case was resolved. Threatening to sue Ane's employees had proven successful. To mention Hitler and the Holocaust on this thread would simply make him look like a complete moron.

Bjorn felt suddenly lost. His killer argument was not as good as he had thought. In fact, it was a stupid argument. And he knew what Maria would answer. She would simply repeat herself, saying that being a psychopath is not a crime. Just as following orders is no defense, giving orders is no crime. The crime is not what a psychopath says, but what the executioners do.

166

Bjorn leaned back in his chair and looked out of his window to the north east. He scratched his head idly as he let Ingunn's story sink in. The woman had come across as quite eccentric, even the first time he read about her. And her eccentricity had become more acute over time. The woman claimed to have direct contact with angels, and at one point, shortly before her eviction, she had even performed a wedding ceremony between mother earth and Jesus.

It had all been quite entertaining to read about. But the woman was clearly mad, and Bjorn had no trouble understanding the need to treat her. Isolating here pretty much completely from the outside world seemed rather excessive, though. That was probably not so much for her own safety as it was for the safety of others. Her world view, as strange as it was, had a charismatic appeal that had proven to be rather contagious, and this was probably the real reason to keep her away from any public interaction.

Ingunn had to be isolated due to the contagious nature of her madness. Anders, on the other hand, although popular in certain circles, did not have the same appeal. And this difference in public appeal could easily explain why Anders was relatively more free than Ingunn. Ingunn's followers had started emulating her ways. Anders' followers, on the other hand were more like cheer leaders with a morbid fascination with his insanity. No one had been found to emulate Anders in any way. People were drawn to him, but his followers did not cause any harm to themselves or society in general. Ingunn's followers on the other hand, were handing in their passports, refusing to associate themselves with the state, and even stopping their mortgage payments. Ingunn's followers were disrupting public order and causing harm to themselves in the process. Ingunn's ideas were in a way, although completely peaceful, much more damaging than those of Anders.

Bjorn was reminded of the public debate on mental illnesses that had emerged during Anders' trial. Several experts had pointed to the dangers of infectious misconceptions, erroneous ideas with dangerous appeal to certain types of people. Anders had been infected by the outlandish idea that the government was seeking to destroy Norwegian culture by encouraging immigration from Muslim countries. Unchecked and untreated, this idea grew into a whole system, and finally, the man went completely mad. He took it upon himself to stop the government by killing the children attending the summer camp of the leading political party, and in doing so he became one of the biggest mass murderers of all times.

What started as simply an eccentric belief morphed over time into a homicidal madness. Likewise, Ingunn's eccentric ideas had not only morphed into a weird system of angles and energies and whatnot, it had spread like a contagious disease. There was no telling where it all could lead if left unchecked, and the move to stop it was probably not a moment too soon.

But what about Frederico and his weird empire idea? Was that not similarly eccentric? It was certainly contagious. Bjorn had even entertained the idea of trying out a citizenship for a while. Frederico did not come across as quite as eccentric as Ingunn, but he was certainly wane and a little strange, and his popular appeal had left Bjorn with a feeling that something was not quite right.

Could it be that the people of Lundby were falling pray to a dangerous idea that would eventually turn into some sort of collective madness? Frederico and Ingunn had both been talking about personal sovereignty. This idea was the common core of their separate beliefs. And if Ingunn's version was considered dangerously delusional, then Frederico's version was probably not much better.

And what about Thomas? He made no secrets of his admiration for Frederico. Was Thomas turning mad? And if so, was his madness beginning to spread to Ante? Was Bjorn himself getting infected? Bjorn wondered. Was he exploring ideas that might best be ignored?

The whole empire thing smacked of manipulation. People were being infected by Frederico's fantastic ramblings. And into this whirlpool of madness, people like Jan and Pedro had stepped and started to stir the pot. Pedro, acting in the dark, had already made fortunes through corruption and manipulations. Pedro was a master of dark arts, Jan was his thug in chief, and Frederico was his sorcerer. A fantastic combination.

And this most sinister trio was acting with impunity. No one was making any moves to stop them. Ingunn, on the other hand, eager for fame and deluded by her own ideas and popularity, had been locked up for life. The forces of darkness, as is often the case, roam unchecked, while those unable to see the dangers of their good intentions end up mad and isolated.

Bjorn felt the world suddenly spinning as if the mad whirlpool of ideas out there were dragging him physically into its darkness. But before he could relate to the dizziness, he was abruptly woken up from his budding daydream. Ante was knocking on Bjorn's door, informing him that dinner was ready. They were waiting for him to come down stairs.

Bjorn got up, and shaking off his dizziness he headed downstairs to join his colleagues for dinner.

139

The steepest part of the walk up to the ridge of the hill was over and done with right at the start of their walk, and the rest was pretty much flat all the way, with an occasional incline here and there.

The rock shielding the church to the north east could be seen in the distance, but from where they were walking nothing could be seen of the village itself. And once the apartment building disappeared out of sight behind them, the port and the control tower of the airport in the distance to the east of them were the only reminders of the civilization that they were a part of.

The walk was invigorating, and Bjorn took great pleasure in feeling the rays of the sun hit him on his back.

"It's not a bad place, is it?" Bjorn asked emphatically.
"No. Not at all," Ante agreed. "I used to go for walks here with my grandparents as a kid, you know."
"Good memories, huh?"
"Yeah. Summer up here can be pretty special."
"So, where did they live?" Bjorn asked, mildly curious.
"I'll show you. We actually drove past it on the way here."
"Really?"
"Yeah. It is now occupied by this Gus guy. He has turned the living room into a store front for his guns."
"The gun shop used to be your grandparents' home?"
"Yeah."
"And your grandparents sold their house to him?"
"No. My grandmother died a few years back. And we sold it to Jan."
"And he has sold it on to Gus?"
"Yeah, I guess so. Or he is renting it out to him."

Bjorn looked over at Ante to see if he was displaying any sense of regret, but could not decipher his expression.

"So, how does that make you feel?" Bjorn inquired. "Could have been cool to have that house now, with the village coming back to life and all."
"Yeah. But we didn't know that back then. Back then, nobody lived here except during the summer. It was like a summer house, and was hardly used at all. This place was pretty much a ghost town back then, and Jan was the only one interested in buying the property."
"You think he knew about this project even back then?" Bjorn wondered.

Ante did not answer right away.

"It's hard to say," Ante said thoughtfully. "But I don't think so."
"Why not?"
"I don't think this project was planned like years in advance."
"You don't? Why not?"
"Because... Well... It sprang out of a random constellation of circumstances."
"Huh?"
"No one was planning this thing back then. What made this happen was more like an accident. It was all about the port to start with. Then they opened the iron mine, and then there was the idea of this asylum center."
"And what's random about that."
"Well... If it was planned, wouldn't there have been other offers for the house than just Jan? Wouldn't other people be interested in buying up all this cheap land too?"
"Not if it was planned by Jan."
"Single-handedly?"
"Sure, why not?"
"Well, that's just nonsense. The whole project is a collaboration between Pedro, Mons and the foreign minister. Jan was just a lucky bystander."
"Yet, he seems awfully chummy with Pedro."
"Okay, so maybe Jan was in on it too. But they weren't planning this like years in advance. How could they?"
"So, why do you think Jan wanted to buy your grandparents' place, then, if there were no plans to do anything with the village?"

Ante was again silent for a while, figuring things out for himself.

"Because," Ante answered while still thinking. "The village always had the potential to become something. Jan was betting that something would happen, something good. And right now, it seems like his bets are about to pay off. But that does not mean that he knew exactly what would happen. All sorts of things could have happened. But with a port and an airport and even an abandoned mine and factory in the area, a revival has never been totally out of the question. And so he placed his bets accordingly. Maybe he had some vague plans relating to his casino. But even that would not have been more than a vague plan since the law allowing him to open it was not even proposed back then. And this is much bigger than his casino anyway. This is a huge thing happening here, and I seriously doubt he had it all planned out when he bought my grandparents' house."

138

Bjorn looked around, stunned by Pedro's claim to have a better knowledge of his near future than himself. How could that possibly be? he wondered. And Pedro's insinuation that his behavior was somehow being monitored was right out bizarre. But knowing smiles and looks exchanged between Jan's daughters seemed to support Pedro's claim. The girls were in on it somehow, and obviously amused by Pedro's shameless forwardness.

"But what do you think about the apartment?" Pedro asked, changing the topic to the more mundane.
"Oh, it's beautiful," Olga replied enthusiastically.
"So you like it?" Pedro asked, looking for confirmation from the rest.
"Yeah, yeah," everybody agreed, nodding politely.
"It's great, isn't it," Pedro said with a big smile. "I can hardly wait to move in."
"It's a palace," Igor commented.
"It is. It's a palace!"

Pedro looked around in the kitchen, and then over at Georgio.

"Well, I guess it's time for you to show your guests out," Pedro commented. "But you'll return, right?"
"Yeah. In fact... Einar can let them out... I can stay here if you like."
"Yes, I would. You're not too busy are you?"
"No... Not really. Einar and I are just here to finish a few things."

Pedro made a sweeping pass of Georgio's guests with his head as if to firmly lock their faces into his memory. Then he bid them farewell with a friendly smile, telling them that he had much enjoyed getting to know them, even if their presence was somewhat unexpected.

"Well, that was unexpected," Ante commented to Bjorn as they followed Einar to the back exit.
"And awkward," Bjorn added.
"Yeah, but he was cool about it though, wasn't he?"

"Is this the first time you've met Pedro?" Bjorn asked Einar as he ushered the group out of the servants' hallway and into the stairwell.
"He's been here a few times before," Einar replied. "But this is the first time I've talked to him face to face."
"And what do you think?"
"Well, he was super cool about this, wasn't he... And Jan almost offered me a job. Isn't that cool?"

"Impressive guy, don't you think?" Olga continued.
"And not as mean looking as Jan," Einar agreed.
"You think Jan looks mean?" Ante asked.
"He can look kind of scary, don't you think?" Bjorn added, agreeing with Einar. "And his daughters... They got those beady eyes too."
"Beady eyes?"
"Yeah. Don't you think so?"

Ante did not answer. Then, as they reached the ground floor, he could not help asking everybody if they too got the impression that Pedro was ready to hire him as a chef.

"Yeah, he did, didn't he?" Einar replied, stopping up by the back door. "Will you take his offer?"
"Now, now," Bjorn protested. "None of you guys got any job offers up there. They were just being polite."
"You think so?" Einar asked.
"Well... I guess you could take them up on their words one day. But they were just thinking out loud."
"Okay," Einar commented. "But anyway... Are we all going down to the garage, or are you two going back by foot?"

Bjorn and Ante looked at each other. They were both ready for a walk in the fine weather, and asked Einar to let them out. A gush of fresh arctic air entered the stairwell the moment Einar opened the door, and it felt great to step into the crisp coolness of it all.

Bjorn and Ante waved goodbye to Einar and the two Russians, and started walking up to the path at the back of the building, leading diagonally up towards the crest of the hill.

The part of the path closest to the apartment was widened into a dirt road, and a large excavator parked at the end of the road, gave the two men the impression that there were plans to widen the entire path, all the way up to the top of the ridge.

Bjorn pulled out a cigarette, and lighted it, taking in the full view of the building site, as it appeared from the back of the apartment building.

"So, what did you make of Pedro's prediction about the days to come?" Bjorn asked.
"About Tuesday and Wednesday, you mean?"
"Yeah."
"You know," Ante said, hesitating while thinking. "Maybe Frank is sharing info with these guys... I mean... Frank's probably corrupted, isn't he?"
"You're right. It must be Frank. Who else could it be?"
"If Pedro wasn't bluffing, that is."
"Oh no, I don't think he was."

137

"Well, that's awkward," Ante said in a low voice. "What do we do now?"
"Ah... I was just showing these people around," Georgio explained to Pedro at the far end of the hallway.
"I can see that, Georgio. But why are you hiding your guests from me?"
"I'm not hiding them. I... We were... I mean, we were just about to leave."
"Is that so?"
"Yeah!"

Pedro looked unimpressed by Georgio's explanation.

"You know! Why don't you all come down here so I get to meet you guys?" Pedro continued. "If you have time, that is."

Georgio looked at Ante and Olga who both did as if they could spare a few minutes, nodding and smiling sheepishly.

"Okay, why not?" Georgio replied, still pretending that their rush to leave had nothing to do with Pedro and his guests entering the apartment.

"As you can see, I have some guests here of my own," Pedro continued, as Georgio and his guests headed towards the kitchen. "This is Jan and his two daughters, Vera and Hannah. They run the casino in the village, and Jan owns most of the land around here, isn't that so Jan?"
"That's right," Jan replied with a smile.

"And, who do we have here?" Pedro asked politely as Georgio came into the kitchen with his guests.
"Well, this is Olga and Igor from the village, and Ante and Bjorn from the Neiden road checkpoint, and this is Einar, my assistant," Georgio explained.

"And this must be your hand bag," Pedro commented, handing the bag over to Olga.
"Yes, thank you," Olga answered, looking bothered and embarrassed.
"And what sort of business are you in, Olga?" Pedro asked, looking genuinely interest.
"I'm running a sewing factory... cooperative."
"A sewing cooperative. Here in Lundby?" Pedro asked rhetorically, "Well, that's great."
"You think so?"
"Absolutely. Entrepreneurship is what Lundby is all about. What sort of things are you making?"
"Dolls and fluffy animals. And jackets and... well... lingerie."
"That's quite a range of different stuff," Pedro commented. "How many are you all in all."
"It's just me and two others here in the village, and three over in Nikel. Six all in all."
"So there's plenty of room for expansion?"
"There is," Olga replied with a modest smile.

"And you're her proud husband, I take it?" Pedro continued, looking at Igor.
"Yes, I am... Very proud of her."
"You work together?"
"No. I work for Pingo."
"When you're not driving people around at night, that is," Ante added.
"Well... Only when I'm off work."
"You drive people around?" Pedro asked.
"Yeah... Like a taxi service."
"A taxi service?"
"You know... Those apps that you can use. And you get a car to drive you from A to B."
"Yes, I do. Which one are you using?"
"A2B."
"Cool name, don't you think?" Pedro asked with a smile.
"Yeah."
"You know, I own that app."
"You're kidding?"
"Well... I own ten per cent."
"You do?"
"Absolutely!" Pedro replied with a satisfied nod. "I see a great future in that kind of services."

Then, looking at Einar, he asked how he was doing, working for Georgio.

"I'm doing fine," Einar answered.
"He's very talented," Georgio added. "He's been a great help."
"And what sort of plans do you have when you're finished here?" Pedro asked. "You're not going to Venice with Georgio and his friends, are you?"
"Oh no... That won't happen," Einar answered. "I don't know what I will do... I'll find something."
"I'll need a carpenter or two one of these days," Jan commented.
"Is that so?" Einar asked.
"Yep... You seem a little young, though. How old are you?"
"Fourteen."
"So! That's younger than I thought."
"How old did you think I was?"
"Seventeen... Or what do you think, Vera?"
"Yeah... More than fourteen, any way," Vera replied.
"But you know your stuff, do you?" Jan continued.
"He does." Georgio replied on Einar's behalf. "Do you already have a master carpenter?"
"I'm negotiating with one right now."
"Well, I would not hesitate to recommend Einar to him."
"Okay," Jan said with a nod. "You know... Give me a call when you're finished working for Georgio."

Jan handed a business card to Einar, who accepted it with stunned appreciation.

"And how are things up at the checkpoint?" Pedro asked, turning to Bjorn and Ante.
"Can't complain, really," Ante answered.
"You got any special skills?"
"No, not really," Ante answered modestly.
"He's one heck of a chef. But apart from that, no." Bjorn added with a smile.
"Is that so?" Pedro asked. "You're the chef up there?"
"Kind of, yes."
"Kind of?"
"Oh, come on now," Bjorn said, turning to Ante. "Of course you are. He's really talented!"
"Good enough to come work for me?" Pedro asked.
"Hey, wait a minute!" Bjorn protested. "He's our chef."
"He is your chef?" Pedro asked. "You own him?"
"No, but..."
"And what about you?" Pedro continued, still looking at Bjorn. "Do you have any special skills?"
"No... Not really."
"You've been a soldier all your life?"
"No. I worked as an engineer once."
"You did?" Pedro asked. "So, why have you joined the army?"
"Ah... Because... I'd rather be in the army than an engineer."
"Why?"
"It's easier... And it pays just as well."
"It does?"
"After taxes," Bjorn added.

Pedro looked at Bjorn for a moment, as if he was considering whether or not to tell him a secret.

"You were over at Ane's factory the other day, weren't you?" Pedro asked.
"Yeah. Together with Geir. Why?"
"Nah... Nothing. Ane told me about you. That's all."
"She did?"
"Nothing bad... Just that you were over there at Wednesday, was it?"
"Yeah. She told you that?"
"She did indeed... But never mind that. What sort of stuff did you do as an engineer?"
"Ah... Electronics. But mostly programming towards the end."
"Is that so?" Pedro asked with a pleased smile. "What sort of programming?"
"Scripts, web pages, and some low level stuff."
"Well, that's very interesting," Pedro said with a nod. "We're looking for programmers."
"You are?"
"Well... Not me so much as my technical guru... You know... I'll introduce you to him on Wednesday."
"This coming Wednesday?" Bjorn asked puzzled.
"Yeah."
"But, when?"
"When you're down at the airport anyway."
"At the airport?" Bjorn asked even more puzzled.
"Sure. Haven't Frank told you?"
"No."
"Well," Pedro said with a knowing smile. "Then you have it from me. You'll spend most of Wednesday at the airport, together with Espen, provided you don't misbehave on Tuesday."
"And what's going to happen on Tuesday?" Bjorn asked.
"That's for me to know and you to find out," Pedro answered with a smile. "If I told you everything ahead of time, life wouldn't be any fun, would it?"

136

"He's quite a character," Ante said, watching Einar follow Igor and Olga up the servants' hallway.
"He is," Georgio agreed. "But he's surprisingly talented and reliable."
"Really?" Bjorn asked.
"Yeah... I have some other helpers too, but Einar is the smart one. It's really impressive how quickly he's picking up the tricks of the trade."
"But you're not afraid he might click one day, and go completely bananas?"
"Well, I didn't know about his past before I caught him with that plank the other day. That's when he told me about the police man he killed."
"And you've chosen to ignore that?"
"Yeah... I guess I have... You know. It was an accident. It happened when he was twelve."
"So he managed to break out of jail?"
"No, of course not. They don't put kids his age in jail. They had him locked up in one of those orphanages, or whatever, and he just escaped one day. Stole some money from one of the guards and headed for Lundby."
"He's from Kirkenes?"
"Yeah, I think so. It's not very hard to get from there to Lundby."

Bjorn looked at Georgio, thinking it weird that he had not suspected anything was amiss right away. Einar had after all been quite aggressive several times just in the short time he had known him.

"But he's constantly making threats. Didn't you find that kind of odd?" Bjorn asked.
"Not to me he hasn't."
"Really?"
"Yeah. In fact, he is always very polite and helpful."
"You're kidding?"
"No."
"But he has threatened me several times all ready," Bjorn protested.
"Well, that's probably due to your uniform. He feels threatened by you and is telling you to stay clear. That's all."
"You think so?"
"What else could it be?"

Bjorn had to admit that Georgio had a valid point, and he felt suddenly uncomfortable in his uniform, suddenly realizing that not everybody might be equally happy to see him in it.

"But never mind that," Georgio continued. "I'll show you something... Come with me!" And off he went leading Ante and Bjorn through the dining room to the smaller one of the two living rooms.

"This is where Pedro will sit and relax when he is not entertaining guests," Georgio explained. "And as you can see, the floor is decorated with a small armillary sphere in each corner, and with St. George slaying the dragon here in the middle. Now... One of these armillary spheres was cut and put together by Einar on his own, with no help from me. Can you guess which one it was?"

"Is that so?" Bjorn asked impressed, immediately starting to scrutinize the handy work together with Ante. "Well, there's no way to tell, is there?"
"No. There isn't. And he has only worked for me like six weeks or so."
"Wow, that's quite impressive!" Ante exclaimed.
"It is, isn't it?"

Georgio was about to say more, but was interrupted by someone coming in through the main entrance.

"Oh my... That's Pedro," Georgio whispered. "I'm not sure he'll be too pleased to see you here. Let's go!"

Georgio led Bjorn and Ante into the hallway with the bedrooms, and through the door leading into the servants' section where they met up with Einar, Igor and Olga.

"Here's the key for the door downstairs," Georgio explained, handing it to Einar. "Can you show our guests out through the back entrance? Pedro is here, and I'm not sure how he'll react if he finds us here, showing his place off to strangers."
"Oh, really... He's here?" Einar asked, wide eyed at the news.
"Yeah... Now hurry up will you?"

Georgio opened the door to the servants' back entrance and started ushering his guests out.

"But what about my bag?" Olga protested.
"Your bag? What you mean?" Georgio asked.
"I dropped it off by the entrance."
"You did? Well... I'll come down with it... Now, go will you?"

But before they all had time to exit, Pedro appeared in the kitchen, directly from the main entrance, and closely followed by Jan and his two daughters. He was holding Olga's bag in his hand, and was looking straight down the servants' hallway.

"Hey Georgio, shouldn't you at least introduce your guests to me?" he asked in a loud voice.

126

Bjorn remained confident that Frederico's attack on the state was complete and utter hyperbole. But he had exhausted his arguments against Frederico's claims. Frederico had clearly spent much more time thinking about the true nature of the state than Bjorn had ever done, and any attempt by Bjorn to counter Frederico's assertions were bound to fail.

"This is the danger of charismatic leaders," Bjorn thought to himself as he turned to look for Ante who had quietly walked away while Frederico was holding his little lecture for Bjorn. "They have a way with words that capture the imagination and makes one believe in absurdities."

"Why don't you stay for the show?" Frederico asked, sensing Bjorn's desire to leave.
"I might," Bjorn answered. "I'll see what Ante thinks."

Then he thanked Frederico for having taken time to share his thoughts with him before heading over to Ante who was waiting for him in the back of the church, engaged in some light conversation with Igor, who had just entered the church together with several other people.

"Hi Igor. How are you?" Bjorn asked as he approached the two men. "And you must be Olga, am I right?" Bjorn continued, turning to a tall blond woman with Asian features, standing next to Igor.
"Yes, that's right," she said with a smile. "How do you do?"

Bjorn introduced himself as one of Igor's many passengers, telling Olga that her husband was clearly very proud of her.

"I know," she said with a smile. "He is such a darling."

They kept the light conversation going for a little longer. But then, as Ane entered the church with Ola at her side, Olga suddenly clammed up. And Bjorn too was a little stunned to see her enter.

"Well, we better find a place to sit before all the good places are taken," Igor said with a smile, as if unaware of his wife's sudden discomfort. "How about you? Care to join us?"
"Well, why not?" Ante said without consulting Bjorn.

And Bjorn, not finding a convenient way to protest, tagged along despite being a little reluctant to being exposed to even more of Frederico's propaganda.

They found four seat conveniently located far away from Ane and Ola where they sat down before resuming their conversation.

"Well, look at that!" Olga said with enthusiasm as Jan entered the church with his two stunning daughters. "He has brought Pedro with him."
"Where?" Bjorn asked, curious to see the man in person.
"The guy in the beige coat," Olga said in a hushed voice.
"So that's Pedro!" Bjorn said, taking note of Jan's guest.
"It's the first time I've seen him here in church," Olga continued. "It looks like everybody is here today, though."

And Olga was right. The little church was quickly filling up with people, and Bjorn recognized several faces. The three Italian carpenters were there, and Peter the stall owner was there too. The arbitrator woman who had been so active on the Blacklist was also there, looking exactly like her picture on the web. And the woman he had let into the colony without a passport, Cecilie, was also there with her daughter, nicely dressed and done up for the occasion.

Cecilie looked around for a moment, before finding her way down to Ane and Ola who had evidently set aside two seats for her and her daughter.

Bjorn could not help feeling uncomfortable about Cecilie's presence. He had let this woman into the colony, almost certainly against the law, and here she was, reminding him of his unprofessional behaviour by her very presence. And yet, there was something innocent and pure about both Cecilie and her daughter that conflicted with the idea that they had done anything wrong. Cecilie was no doubt on the run, and Bjorn should have apprehended her when he had the chance. But the very thought of doing that made him cringe, and her presence in the church was, as it were, a thorn in the side of his divided conscience.

102

"So it is basically a community of anarchists?" Bjorn asked, looking out of the kitchen window where the snow was falling heavily. Then turning back to Thomas he continued. "I mean... the good kind. The kind that doesn't blow things up."
"Yeah, that's right. It's a community of gentle anarchists," Thomas said with a nod. "Like the Portuguese. They're not prone to blowing things up. They leave people alone... You know... Live by the Golden Rule."
"So then, if I bumped into a bunch of these guys, I would in fact find myself in the Fifth Empire without knowing it?"
"No, you would not be in the empire, you would only be among the citizens of the empire. You're not in the empire before you declare yourself a citizen, and consistently live by the Golden Rule."
"And that's where it gets a bit too cultish for my taste," Bjorn concluded.
"Me too," Thomas said with a nod. "I wouldn't mind living among them, though."
"No... Sounds like a nice bunch... Unless they constantly try to convince you, like the evangelist... you know."
"Ah... but that's the beauty of it. Constantly nagging people isn't very nice, so they don't do that. And Frederico keeps stressing this in his sermons."
"So how do they spread the word?"
"Well, by mentioning it every now and again, and by making all their material available on the web. And Frederico holds some very interesting and entertaining sermons. People simply get drawn into this, and they end up declaring themselves citizens... I mean... this could really take off in a big way."
"You think so?"
"It is certainly doing very well in Lundby. Even Jan mentioned the empire when he got up and basically asked us to leave... Ten minutes before they closed... You know."
"He's a citizen?" Bjorn asked in amazement. "Jan, the Mafioso, is a citizen?"
"I think so," Thomas said, apparently without seeing the contradiction. "At least, he gave me that impression."
"But he's a thug," Bjorn protested. "He kills people. At least, that's what Ante hinted at."
"I think Ante may have been exaggerating," Thomas commented dryly.

But just as the two men started talking about Ante, the man himself appeared in the doorway, looking terribly hung over, and this stopped the conversation dead in its track.

"So you two are talking about me behind my back, are you?" Ante asked. "Well, isn't that just typical, you Sami-hating southerners."
"What?" Thomas asked, looking in disbelief at Ante as he shuffled over to the cupboard where he grabbed a glass and filled it with water, swearing and cursing as he went.

"I'm just kidding," Ante said, looking over at his colleagues from the kitchen sink. "You never get it, do you? It's a joke. I don't hate you. I like you. I like you all... Well...except for Geir maybe..."
Then, as Bjorn and Thomas started to chuckle, Ante added "Nah... he's a nice guy too I guess. It's just a little less obvious with him."

Then, sitting down at the table, next to his colleagues, Ante continued with a smile, "so how are we all feeling today?"

94

Back inside the casino everything seemed louder and more intense than when he left, and Bjorn felt again a relief from knowing that he would not have to hang around there waiting for his colleagues. He was on his way back to the checkpoint, and all he had to do was to tell his colleagues that he had found himself a taxi.

"I haven't seen Frank anywhere," Bjorn told Ante as he reached their table.
"We know," Ante answered with a smile.
"Really?"
"Yeah, he appeared out of nowhere, and now he's out on the dance floor."

Bjorn turned around to see if he could see him, and there he was showing off to two girls as if he was some sort of gift to women. The girls on their side were more than happy to indulge him, but the dance floor was so crowded that it was hard to say if they were girls who just happened to enjoy his clownish behaviour, or if they were in fact impressed by his slick appearance.

"He is not exactly hiding his gun, is he?" Bjorn said as he turned back to Ante.
"No, he's not... He clearly thinks of it as a great girl magnet."
"And it seems to be working, doesn't it?"
"That, and his gold card."
"He's showing that off too?"
"Waves it about every time he's buying a drink."
"What a clown!"

Ante smiled, and nodded in the direction of Thomas and Espen sitting at the other side of the table, engaged in conversation with an attractive blond girl. "But we're not complaining," Ante added. "He's like a honey pot the way he attracts the flies."

Bjorn looked at Ante with a frown, finding his statement a little too indiscrete. "Oh... Don't you worry," Ante said with a smile. "They are all Russians. They hardly know a word of Norwegian."

Still, Bjorn found Ante a bit out of line with his derogatory comment and promptly switched the conversation to his latest discovery.

"They got taxies here in Lundby, did you know?" Bjorn proclaimed proudly.
"Really?"
"Yeah! The bouncers at the door will get you one if you need one, and I've ordered one for myself."
"You're leaving?"
"Yeah."
"All ready?"

Bjorn shrugged his shoulders. "Well, I'm an old guy I guess," he said, partly to prevent Ante from being the first to bring up his age.
"You're not that old," Ante protested. "Come on, why don't you stay. The party has just started."

Bjorn was happy to hear Ante's protest, but he had made up his mind, and the taxi was already ordered, so he excused himself, fending off Ante's protests, and headed back to the exit. He walked briskly out of the large room, noticing on his way that Jan was standing by the table where drugs were traded openly to anyone who cared to buy some. Jan was clearly engaged in some sort of business discussion, and it struck Bjorn as odd that this man who seemed to welcome both druggies and prostitutes to his establishment was at the same time a patron of the church charity, and also enforcing strict anti smoking rules on his premises. It made absolutely no sense. But at the same time, there was something refreshingly eccentric about these inconsistent rules, and it put a smile on his face.

Stepping once again out into the cold night air, Bjorn was told by the bouncer that his car would arrive in about five minutes. "Just enough time to have a cigarette," Bjorn answered, letting the bouncer know that he would be standing over by the paraffin heaters having a smoke while waiting.

The bouncer nodded silently, and Bjorn went over to the designated smokers' area to have his cigarette. There were several other people standing there, and some were sitting in the chairs that had been put outside with woolly blankets for the guests to cover up while having their smoke. But there were no familiar faces among the smokers, and Bjorn was no longer in any mood to start a conversation, so he smoked his cigarette in silence, looking idly over at the market, the church up the hill, the moon, and the people coming and going.

Then, just as he finished his cigarette, a car pulled up to the curb, and the bouncer signalled to Bjorn that this was his taxi.

88

Ante sat down with his colleagues, drink in hand, and with a big smile on his face.

"I love this place!" he said, looking out on the people at the dance floor. "Have you seen the drug peddlers over there?"
"Drug peddlers? Where?" Bjorn asked, surprised to hear Ante talk so light heartedly about such a sordid business.
"There!" Ante answered, pointing to a table by the entrance to the bathrooms. "You can get whatever you feel like over there."
"Really?"
"Yep! Cocaine, heroine, cannabis... You name it, they got it."
"And no one is stopping them?" Bjorn wondered out loud.

Ante looked over at Thomas, with a grin as if to say, "you go ahead and explain this to Bjorn for me!"

"Well, who's to stop them?" Thomas asked rhetorically.
"Well... eh..." Bjorn stuttered, unable to find an answer.
"Jan could stop them," Espen ventured. "It's his place after all."
"Sure!" Ante agreed. "But I asked them about that, and you know what they told me?"
"No?"
"The table over there has been rented by a guy called David. Jan is in on this. He is making money renting out that table to David."

The men looked with silent wonder at the table where the illicit trade was going on. It was wide open and at the same time so toned down that it had gone unnoticed by Bjorn until now.

"And who is David?" Bjorn asked, curious to know who of the two peddlers was in charge.
"David isn't here," Ante explained. "He is up at his pharmacy, down the road from the church."
"So those guys over there are just working for him?" Bjorn asked.
"Apparently."

Bjorn was speechless.

"It is this kind of thing that's going to be the end of Lundby," Thomas said with a concerned look on his face.
"Everyone will end up hooked on drugs, you mean?" Espen asked.
"No... Of course not... But how long do you think this will last before we will be asked to shut this whole place down?"
"Not very long," Espen conceded.
"And it will be up to us to do the dirty work of closing this down, you know," Thomas continued.
"And you don't think we should?" Bjorn asked.

Thomas looked at Bjorn as if he had said something really stupid. "Why?" he asked.
"Well, it's against the law."
"So?"
"So, it should be shut down. That's what laws are for. To make sure that things like this is not going on in the open."
"Really?" Thomas asked rhetorically. "Is that really what laws are for?"
"Yeah?" Bjorn answered hesitantly.

Bjorn looked over at the table where the two men were helping their customers in a polite manner, as if they were selling something completely innocent, like doughnuts or sweets. There was nothing remotely aggressive or overly assertive about their behaviour, and Bjorn did not feel the least bit threatened by their presence in the room. But it was a silly gamble to let this go on in the open, and Thomas was no doubt right in his prediction that this would indeed be the end of the Lundby project in its present form.

"Kind of stupid of Pedro to let this go on in the open, isn't it?" Bjorn asked.
"He's probably powerless to stop this," Thomas countered.
"Really? I thought he was in charge of law and order down here."
"Sure! But how should he go about shutting this business down? You think he can just go into this casino and demand that things change? Have you seen the bouncers out there?"
"I guess you got a point," Bjorn conceded.

"And guess what?" Thomas continued after a short pause. "It will be our job to go in here and demand the sort of changes that our bosses in Oslo will want to see... How do you like the idea of going in here and try to boss Jan around?"

Bjorn looked over at Ante who was following the discussion with relaxed curiosity. Ante shook his head with a negative grin. "Nope... I'm not going to do it," he said. "I don't feel like ending up at the bottom of the fjord with a hundred kilo of concrete around my ankles."

82

There was a steady stream of people entering the casino, mostly Norwegians but foreigners too. Bjorn recognized the three Italians from Nora's place among the foreign looking ones, and the two big Norwegian men who had been sitting to the side of their table also appeared a little later.

Pretty soon, just about every table in the room was occupied, and the waiter who had served the men so efficiently when they came in was suddenly busy going back and forth between the bar and her other customers. A big black guy appeared in the bar to help her, and soon afterwards two Asian girls also joined her.

Most people ordered their drinks at the tables, but there were people going up to the bar too, and this was evidently all right with the bartender who managed to serve both the customers at the bar and fulfil the orders coming in from the tables. Everything was dynamic and flexible, and the girls would at times help the bartender draw beer, or do other simple tasks while he put together more sophisticated drinks.

The hustle and bustle of the place was pleasing to watch from where Bjorn was sitting, and he was only half listening to his colleagues' conversations when he caught eye of a man in a black tuxedo entering from a door in the back together with two stunningly beautiful women.

"Is that Jan?" Bjorn asked, breaking into Ante's description of a particularly delicious desert that he once had on a vacation in France.

Bjorn's colleagues turned in the direction of Bjorn's glance, and immediately confirmed his suspicion.

"And those are his two daughters," Ante added.
"They are beautiful," Bjorn said, taking in the sight of them casually and elegantly crossing the floor in the direction of the stage.
"You're not kidding!" Frank agreed, adding a dreamy "yum yum".
"But you better behave when they are around," Ante continued. "Jan has a way of fixing things he doesn't like, so you better not get on the wrong side of him."

Jan, immediately followed by his two daughters, climbed two steps at the side of the stage, and proceeded to the centre, right in front of the velvet curtain. Confidently and dramatically taking up their position, Jan started speaking by lifting a wireless microphone and welcoming everyone to his casino. His daughters then took turns pointing out the facilities of the premises, and going through the repertoire of the evening.

Then there was applause by the guests as the three returned from where they had entered, and shortly after, the stage curtain was lifted, and a small band got going playing an old hit from when Bjorn was a student at a University in England. He was immediately hit by a sense of nostalgia and déjà vu, and for some reason, this gave him an irresistible urge for a cigarette. He could not sit still, and excused himself to his colleagues as he got up and out, first in the direction of the dance floor, and then to the exits.

And Bjorn was apparently not the only one who had a sudden urge for a cigarette. The three Italians were also heading for the exit, and Bjorn almost bumped into one of them as they headed for the same door.

"Excuse me," Bjorn said politely.
"That's all right," the Italian replied with a smile.

Once outside, Bjorn pulled out a cigarette, but even before he had time to put it in his mouth, a bouncer came up to him, asking him politely to go to the designated smoking area a little up to the side.

"We don't want any smoke right here at the entrance," the bouncer explained.
"Oh... I see..." Bjorn replied, taking his cigarette with him to the little row of chairs set out on the sidewalk together with paraffin heaters and small tables with ash trays for the convenience of the smokers.

Bjorn lit his cigarette, and seeing that he was standing right next to one of the Italians he asked him where he was from.

"Venice," the man answered, nodding his head as if this was very significant.
"Italy?" Bjorn added in way of explanation.
"Nah... There's no Italy anymore... Never was, really..."
"But isn't Venice in Italy?" Bjorn asked, not getting what the man was driving at.
"Sure... But what is Italy?"

Bjorn went silent. The question seemed silly, and he got a feeling the man was just being difficult.

"We're from the Republic of Venice, you see," one of the other Italians continued. "We're not very fond of the Romans."
"The Romans?" Bjorn asked, even more confused.
"Well... You heard what happened, right?"
"To your republic you mean?" Bjorn asked, glimpsing some sanity in the conversation.
"Yeah."
"Well... you had a referendum... and it was crushed."
"By the Romans," the Italian added.
"You mean the central government in Rome," Bjorn added helpfully.
"Exactly."

Bjorn thought for a moment before continuing.

"So how can you be from the Republic of Venice when it got crushed by the... Romans?"
"You can't crush an idea," the third Italian explained.
"You can't live in it either," Bjorn countered.
"So why do you think we live in Italy? Italy is just as much an idea as our Republic."

Bjorn went silent again, puffing a few times on his cigarette before continuing.

"Last time I checked a map of Europe I distinctly remember seeing Italy. I can't remember seeing any mention of a Venetian republic."
"And yet it exists," the Italian replied stubbornly. "Just like the empire."
"The empire?" Bjorn asked with a smile of disbelief. "The Roman Empire?"
"Yes and no," the Italian countered. "But I was thinking of the Fifth."
"The Fifth Empire?" Bjorn asked. "What are you babbling about?"

The Italians looked at each other as if deciding among themselves if it would be worth their time to explain their position. Then, one of them continued.

"The Fifth Empire is the place you end up the moment you reject the current world order and embrace the idea of total autonomy."
"You know," Bjorn answered with a smile. "That makes absolutely no sense at all... But go ahead, I'm listening!"
"The current world order only exists because people believe in it."
"Sure... That makes sense in a way."
"If no one took our politicians and rulers seriously, they would be powerless over us."
"Yeah..."
"The Fifth Empire is the community of all those who reject the notion that they need to be ruled over by others."

Bjorn took in this last explanation, and it seemed to make some sense to him, even if he could not imagine any of this having any practical implications. But as a fanciful idea, it was kind of cute.

"So where is the Fifth Empire?" Bjorn asked.
"We are standing in it," the Italian said with a confident smile.
"Lundby is an empire?" Bjorn asked in disbelief, and unable to hide his sarcasm he added "some empire you got her, I must say."

The Italians looked at Bjorn, also smiling, as if they thought him the confused one.

"All empires are in the end nothing more than the sum of the people believing in them," the tallest one of them continued patiently. "National borders are but lines on maps. They are only physical in the sense that people believing in them are spending time patrolling them. Once they stop believing in them, the borders themselves will be gone."

"We," the tall one continued, meaning him and his two friends, "are living in the Fifth Empire. And it makes no difference if we are in Venice or in Lundby, or wherever, because the empire is an idea. And it will dominate the world... You, on the other hand is not in the empire, because you have not entered it."

"And how, may I ask, can I enter the empire?" Bjorn asked.
"You enter the empire by declaring yourself a citizen of it," the tall one explained helpfully, and Bjorn immediately got a creepy feeling that he was talking to a member of some weird sect.

But there was no push by the Italians to convert or otherwise convince Bjorn that he should somehow involve himself in their sect, and since they all finished their cigarettes more or less at the same time, they all headed back into the casino as if they had known each other for some time.

65

It was slowly getting darker outside, and Bjorn's reflection in the window was starting to bother him, so he got up of his chair and pulled the curtains shut for the night. Then, once he was seated again, he clicked his way back to the complaint made against Pedro.

From reading the complaint, it was clear that the journalist over at the Gazette had pick much of her material directly from the Blacklist. But there was also no doubt that the journalist had in fact been talking to both the stall owners and Pedro to get the full story. The complaint was relatively short and to the point, basically claiming that Pedro had no right to the village square, that the village square belonged to the people of Lundby, and that no one had the right to impose any kind of tax or restriction on the stall owners.

Pedro on his side begged to differ, of course, pointing to his claim to all the pubic areas of Lundby, including the village square. Directly below Pedro's comment, Jan had a short comment directed at both the stall owners and Pedro, suggesting they sort out their differences in his office in the casino. And directly under Jan's comment, there was a third and final comment written by the same Maria that had made a comment on Jan and Pedro's complaint against Ane.

Maria's comment was directed directly at the stall owners, basically saying that their complaint was confused and muddled, and lacking in precision, her main objection being that the village square could not possibly belongs to "the people" since no such entity exists. Then she went on to say that she would not touch the case before the stall owners sort out among themselves what exactly they were asking for.

And quite understandably, Maria's comment had a long tail of sub-comments, all from the plaintiffs, basically saying that she was the one confused, and that a further specification of who "the people" were was in any case besides the point. The stall owners had no intention of paying any kind of rent or tribute to Pedro, and would resist any attempt to force them into doing so.

"So, who is this Maria," Bjorn wondered. "Clearly some sort of self styled lawyer, judging from her pretentious remark about not wanting to touch the case." And with this in mind Bjorn clicked on her name in order to find out more which brought up the fact sheet on her, showing that she was not involved in any disputes at the moment. Bjorn clicked on Maria's name again to go to her personal details page which turned out to be surprisingly elaborate, with a picture of her face, a list of achievements and a whole lot of data on her career and education.

Maria was indeed a self styled lawyer of sorts, running a company called Independent Law. Maria offered what she called "arbitration services", claiming extensive experience with "private law", and her comments on the Blacklist were clearly all part of a marketing strategy from her side. By offering a quick initial analysis of the various disputes in the village, she was showing off her legal skills with a hope to attract paying customers for her arbitration services.

Bjorn looked at the picture of the woman with her thick black hair and almost child like appearance. She looked friendly and approachable, in contrast to her remarks on the Blacklist which had been pointy and almost aggressive in their criticism of the complaints. Then, looking over to the right hand margin of the page, Bjorn's attention was drawn to an ad that had stayed with him throughout his browsing of the Blacklist, but not caught his attention before now. It displayed a stylized icon of St. George slaying the dragon, under which it read Lance Security in gold letters, followed by a sub-title with the text: "To Serve and Protect".

"But isn't that Pedro's company?" Bjorn wondered, surprised to see an ad by Pedro on a web site containing a scathing denouncement of him. "Why is Pedro sponsoring a web site full of bickering and conflict mongering?"

Bjorn clicked on the ad to learn more about Pedro's business, which he now suspected to be involved in something different from what he had first assumed. Reading about Pedro as the CEO of Lance, Bjorn had simply assumed that Lance was a company involved in the prison and detention camp industry, which was one of the few businesses currently doing well, with economic crisis and political unrest spreading like wildfire everywhere. But it made no sense for such a company to have an ad on the Blacklist, so Bjorn was now very much doubting his first assumption. And as it turned out, Lance was not a private prison company, or any such thing.

Lance Security was an insurance company offering what it called "disaster insurance", defined as "high cost, low probability events", with "criminal loss" being its core business, and accident and health insurance being offered as add-ons. The idea was that a person could start off by insuring him or herself against criminal loss, and then add on insurance for loss of property and health as needed. The basic product would pay out up to a thousand Gram in the event of loss of life, health or property due to a criminal event. And this basic insurance cost a "mere" half a Gram per year.

The basic product could be scaled up, from a maximum of a thousand Gram to as much as ten thousand Gram, by agreeing to pay correspondingly more in premiums. Adding accident and health to the basic product increased the cost in a similar manner. The insured person could in other words not buy anything cheaper than the basic product, so Lance's target customers were clearly people for whom a disaster would result in losses up to or beyond a full Kilogram of gold. And the website confirmed this by stating specifically that losses below ten Gram would not be compensated. However, all criminal losses should be reported regardless, it said, since a group action against a criminal element may nevertheless result in a pay out, even for minor losses.

Bjorn leant back in his office chair, contemplating what he had just read, and feeling content that he had finally found something concrete about Pedro's business in Lundby. Not only was Pedro claiming ownership of all public property in the village, he was aiming to make money off of people's fears as well.

64

The article on the conflict between the stall owners and Pedro had a link to the formal complaint logged by the stall owners, and curious to see what this looked like, Bjorn clicked on it to have it come up on his screen. The page with the complaint was set in a dark frame, with "The Blacklist" written in grey letters, as if set in stone, at the top. The subtitle stated, also in grey letters, that "all are innocent until proven guilty." And next to the title, there was a search field, and an option to go to an advanced search page.

The complaint itself was tidy and clean cut, with its title displayed at the top, followed by some basic information, such as status and location, a full list of the plaintiffs and the name of the defendant. Each person in the list was highlighted with a link, presumably to get to more details on each individual, and still curious to learn as much as he could about Pedro, Bjorn clicked on his name to see what more, if anything, the Blacklist had on him.

But instead of going directly to more personal information on Pedro, the link directed Bjorn to a short fact sheet containing only his name and contact details together with a list of accusations and another list of grievances in which he was presently involved. To get more personal details on Pedro, Bjorn had to click on Pedro's name again, but the page on Pedro was kept down to a bare minimum with no more than his full name and minimal contact details filled in.

So it was clear that Pedro's personal information page at the Blacklist did not tell Bjorn anything new. However, the short fact sheet on him did in fact tell Bjorn a little more, because it did not only list the dispute with the stall owners under open grievances against him, it also listed a dispute in which he was a plaintiff. Pedro was listed as having a grievance against Ane, and this surprised Bjorn so much that once he saw it he clicked the link to see what it was all about.

And sure enough, there it was. Pedro and Jan were complaining about Ane's fish factory. They were concerned about the pollution coming from it due to all the untreated fish waste that she was dumping into the fjord, and they wanted her to clean up her act. Their personal grievance against Ane was that her disregard for the environment would soon cause a stench, and thus negatively affect the value of the casino and the village square.

Bjorn looked at the date of the complaint, thinking it odd that it had been logged so soon after the factory had been opened. The factory was after all, only opened the day before, and it could not possibly be the case that the environment was already affected by this. And it looked like someone had had the exact same thought, because someone called Maria had made a comment on the complaint, very much to that effect. However, while Bjorn was reading Maria's short comment, another comment appeared, this one directed to Maria, and authored by Jan, saying that "we don't need to wait for the inevitable. There is no doubt that the untreated sewage will cause problems, and that this will damage our properties. Ane cannot simply ship her stench over to us without any kind of compensation. And it is not like the technology to treat her waste does not exist."

"Boy! These people don't kid around, do they?" Bjorn thought to himself. Then, curious to see what the Blacklist had on Ane, he clicked on her name to get up her short fact sheet, and then on her name again to go to her personal details. However, Ane's personal details page was not filled in. Instead the page asked him politely to fill in the page if he happened to be Ane. However, right below the polite invitation to fill in the details was a stern warning. "Do not fill in this page if you are not in fact Ane, or a person authorized by Ane," it said in bold red lettering. "Any abuse of the Blacklist is a crime and will be treated accordingly."

63

Bjorn looked up from his computer screen while contemplating the arguments laid out by Pedro and the stall owners. The sun setting behind the mountains to the north west of Lundby made the sky flare up in the same dramatic fashion as it had done when Bjorn first arrived at the checkpoint, less than a week ago. It was a truly impressive view. Stunning and eerily cold and indifferent, as if completely immune to anything anyone might want to do to it. Watching it from the comfort of his office chair was delightfully meditative, making his thoughts move freely from one thing to another.

Bjorn found Pedro's argument quite revealing in that it exposed a motive for Pedro's decision to go into the deal with the foreign minister in the first place. The village was at the time completely uninhabited, and it was not unreasonable of Pedro to think that his promise to maintain public properties would include a right to "tax" anyone using these properties. And with a growing population, the money he could get through taxation would increase.

However, Pedro had not actually made his claim to the public properties widely known, so it was quite understandable that the stall owners felt that they had a right to use the village square without paying any dues to Pedro. And with this in mind, Bjorn returned to the article he was reading, feeling empathy for the squatters who were fighting for their right to be left alone.

The leaflets handed out by Pedro's men had come as a complete surprise to the stall owners, and feeling threatened by Pedro's sudden land claim, some of the stall owners had immediately gone ahead and bought themselves handguns over at Gus's gun store. And shortly after, the stall owners had formed a union, agreeing to stand together against what they felt was an attempt at extortion.

The union of stall owners, with its armed members, had in turn caused concern over at the casino, which prompted Jan to arm his employees, just in case the squatters would get the idea that they could do anything they wanted now that they have banded together. But the stall owners were quick to contact Jan, assuring him that they had no other agenda than to protect their right to be left alone. And having no interest in frightening their customers they agreed among themselves that they would keep their weapons concealed, and continue their peaceful activities as if nothing had happened.

Eager to find a peaceful resolution to what could potentially lead to an ugly situation right across from his casino, Jan volunteered to act as a mediator between the stall owners and Pedro, with a further suggestion that the stall owners not only complain directly to Pedro, but also make their case public by publishing a formal statement on the Blacklist, a website specifically designed for public grievances.

And it was the public statement made on the Blacklist that had drawn the attention of the journalist to the rapidly escalating conflict. It had prompted her to go out and get the full story, interviewing both the stall owners and Jan and his people. But, unable to reach Pedro, the only statement in his defence was the short reply made by him to the formal complaint on the Blacklist. Pedro's unwavering position was that since he had taken on obligations to take care of public properties in Lundby, he had in effect also received the right to demand rent from these same properties.

61

Dinner was a feast as always, and Ante had selected a white wine to go with the salmon, potatoes and cucumber salad. The wine was unusually fresh and had a light sparkle to it. But it was by no means a sparkling wine. There was only a light pleasant tingle when he drank it. Curious to find out more about the wine, Bjorn reached for the bottle to take a closer look at the label while his colleagues dug into their portions, complimenting Ante on yet another fine meal.

"So this is what Portuguese white wine tastes like?" Bjorn remarked.
"Green wine!" Ante corrected. "It is a green wine?"
"Looks like white wine to me," Frank commented.
"Branco!" Bjorn added. "It says branco here in small letters. Doesn't branco mean white in Latin speak?"
"But it says vinho verde in big fat letters above the branco, doesn't it? What do you think that means?"
"Beats me!" Bjorn replied. "I don't speak Portuguese."
"Well, it means green wine. That is what it says: green wine!"
"Well, literally it says wine, green, white."
"So now you're suddenly an expert in Portuguese?"

Bjorn smiled at Ante. "Well, am I right, or am I right?"
"Okay, it's a white green wine," Ante admitted. "Not that I've ever come across a red green wine... But any way... The sparkle and freshness of the wine is typical for green wines."
"So it's a white wine made in a special way?" Espen suggested.
"Yeah, I guess so," Ante replied, happy to go along with Espen's suggestion.
"So there may well be red wines made this same way," Espen continued.
"I guess..."
"I wonder what that would taste like."

There was a brief silence while the wine drinkers around the table were trying to imagine a red wine with a light sparkle.

"Maybe a sweet one would be drinkable, if it was chilled," Thomas suggested.
"Sweet and sour with a light sparkle," Ante mused. "I guess that could be kind of nice."

There was another brief silence which Bjorn broke by bringing up Pedro and Lundby in the conversation.

"Do you think Pedro is behind this in some way?" Bjorn asked of the group. "I mean, Pedro is Portuguese, right? And there were an awful lot of Portuguese wines and foreign cheeses in Pingo."
"Duh... Pingo is Portuguese. Of course they have Portuguese products for sale," Ante answered, happy to get back at Bjorn.
"Well, excuse me for not knowing that," Bjorn retorted with feigned hurt feelings.
"It's hardly likely to be a coincidence that Pingo is from Portugal given that Pedro is Portuguese," Thomas continued. "And Pedro is the one in charge down there, right? So, of course he's behind this."

Bjorn had to admit that it didn't take a genius to figure out that things necessarily had to be related to those in charge of the village, but was Thomas correct in his assertion that Pedro was in charge of the village?

"What about Jan," Bjorn protested. "He owns the place. Doesn't he? Why would he let a foreigner take over?"
"You're right," Thomas answered thoughtfully. "They must be cooperating in some way."

There was again silence around the table. Then, just as Thomas was about to say something, John asked, "have any of you guys ever seen Pedro?"
"No..." Everyone had to admit that they had never seen him.
"But who else has invited Pingo to set up shop in Lundby?" Thomas protested.
"I don't know," John answered "But I don't think the man exists. I've been looking him up, and I haven't found anything."
"You googled his full name, and you didn't find anything?" Bjorn asked in amazement.
"No. Nothing, except for what has been coming out of the mainstream media."
"So, you did find something?" Thomas corrected.
"Only the official stuff. Nothing else."

The wine drinkers all looked at John with his glass of water. Then they looked at each other before breaking out in light laughter. "You really are paranoid, aren't you?" Frank blurted out with a big friendly smile.

60

"You guys are still upset with us, aren't you?" Bjorn asked, breaking the silence in the kitchen.
"For what you did to us, you mean?"
"Yes..."
"Well, it's not like anyone alive today remember much of it. But it was bad. There's no doubt about that. And it is easy to start blaming all sorts of things on what happened back then."
"Like what?"
"Like the fact that most of my family is unemployed for instance..."
"You think that's because of what happened back then?"
"Nah... I don't know... Many Samis are actually doing quite well."
"Like Jan with his casino, you mean?"

Ante shook his head. "No... I wasn't really thinking of him. I was more thinking of all the Samis who've ended up as average middle class Norwegians."

Bjorn nodded, and there was again silence between the two men. Ante rose from the table, tossed the rest of his coffee in the kitchen sink, and started to set the table in final preparation for dinner.

"Jan is different..." Ante said thoughtfully as he lay out the cutlery. "You know... By the time they passed the Reparation Act, most Samis had given up their land claims. But Jan's family and a handful of others were still able to document ownership of certain areas... And that's how Jan ended up owning most of the land around here."

39

Approaching Pingo, Bjorn was struck by the low prices displayed for petrol at the petrol station next to the super market.

"Nineteen MG for a litre of petrol," Bjorn remarked. "Is that even possible?"
"Apparently," Geir replied. "That's what the sign says after all."

Then, suddenly realizing how the low price could be possible, Bjorn answered his own question with another question: "They are not paying any taxes here, are they?"
"Probably not," Geir answered. "Or very little?"
"To Pedro, maybe?" Bjorn speculated.
"Could be. How else is he making any money? Somebody has to pay him, and if it isn't through taxes, how else?"
"So you think this Pedro might be some sort of king down here?" Bjorn continued, fascinated by the implications of such a situation.
"Could be. Or this Jan and Pedro might be having some unholy alliance."
"The casino owner?"
"Yeah."
"Interesting..."

Bjorn could not help feeling intrigued by the village, and the murky circumstances that led up to its recent resurrection. "Come to think of it," Bjorn wondered out loud, just before entering Pingo. "I have not seen any sign of this Pedro at all. Wasn't he supposed to take care of the asylum seekers?"
"Well, that was the idea," Geir agreed.
"Yet everybody here seems to have been left to themselves," Bjorn continued. "Strange, don't you think?"
"Yeah," Geir nodded in agreement as he stepped into the store together with Bjorn.

Bjorn looked around in the brightly lit super market, half expecting to find some sign of Pedro. But here again, everything was as focused on the business at hand as everywhere else. The store was crammed, and felt disorganized, not for lack of effort to keep it tidy, but for lack of space. However, apart from it being too crammed, it did not seem very different from any other super market. Bjorn found it interesting that it had a whole aisle dedicated to wine, since wine can only be sold in special state run stores in Norway, but by now, Bjorn had gotten used to the idea that rules rigorously followed in Norway proper did not necessarily apply to Lundby.

There was plenty of fresh fruits and vegetables to choose from, and both the meat and fish counters were well stocked. But there was also a large sections dedicated to very cheap foods like dried lentils and beans, rice of different kinds, flour and similar basic ingredients. However, keeping in mind that so many in Lundby must get by with as little as a hundred MG per day, this was hardly a surprise. The store was simply stocked with the huge income disparity in the village in mind, with both high end food products and cheap bulk foods, laid out in separate aisles for convenience.

It all looked surprisingly cheap to Bjorn, though, considering that the super market was located in an arctic village, far from where any of the products were actually produced. Every last product in the shelves had to be shipped up to Lundby somehow, and yet the prices for some of the goods were well below what he was used to from Oslo.

"This is kind of expensive," Geir commented as if he had heard Bjorn's thoughts, and decided to deliberately contradict him.
"What is?" Bjorn asked surprised.
"These cheeses."
"Really?"
"They are cheaper over at the market," Geir explained. "And the same goes for the carrots."
"You want to buy this stuff over at the market?"
"No. I can't be bothered. It is not that big of a difference, and I got this debit card I can only use here at Pingo."
"Okay..."
"It is Ante's card," Geir continued. "I'm sure he won't mind if we don't buy the very cheapest of everything. It is not like it is a huge difference anyway."

21

Back in the common room, Bjorn found Ante leafing through a flimsy little newspaper in an easy chair over by the window, and Frank still sitting in front of the TV.
"So what does 500 MG stand for?" Bjorn asked as he sat down in the sofa across from Ante.
"It is short for 500 milligram," Ante replied without putting down the newspaper. "It is half a Gram."
"Half a gram of what?"
"Of gold," Ante replied, now putting down the paper. "You can get physical gold delivered in return for those chips over at the casino. They only accept round numbers, though. The smallest gold wafer is two and a half Gram, and is really tiny. And there is a fixed service charge of 100 MG for each wafer to discourage people from trading in their chips for gold."
"So if I have five of these, I can get one of their smallest gold wafers?" Bjorn asked, holding up the green chip.
"Well, it would cost you 100 MG, so strictly speaking, you would need 100 MG in addition to your two and a half Gram in order to get one of their smallest wafers."
"That´s kind of cool, though," Bjorn remarked. "But why are they doing this?"
"Beats me. Jan and Pedro just decided to do things this way, and that´s how it has been."
"Jan and Pedro?"
"Oh, you haven´t heard of Jan and Pedro, have you?"
"No."
"Well, Jan owns the casino, and most of the land out here. And Pedro is the guy who negotiated the asylum centre deal with the foreign minister. Pedro is in charge of the asylum centre. He is into all sorts of businesses, apparently, and this is his latest venture."
"Making a living off of other people´s misery?"
"Perhaps. I don´t know. How about you? Aren´t you too making a living off of this asylum centre?"
"Well... yeah... I guess I am, in a way."

Ante was right, of course, and it was silly of Bjorn to point a moralizing finger at anyone regarding the ethics of the asylum centre. He leaned back in the sofa, and put the green chip back in his pocket.

"So have you decided whether or not you´ll come with us to Lundby on Friday?" Ante asked, changing the topic to something less political.
"I´m not sure. What´s the plan?"
"I have reserved a table at Nora´s place. It´s a Philipino place. Very good food, they say. And then we´ll go over to the casino and have a few beers afterwards."
"That´s it?"
"Yeah. What did you expect?"
"Nothing really. Who´s going?"
"Me, Thomas, Espen, and Frank. There is room for one more in my car. You know. You really should come with us. It will be fun."
"So you are going too?" Bjorn asked, looking over at Frank.

Frank confirmed the fact with a short "yep", and for some reason, this was the bit of encouragement Bjorn needed in order to accept Ante´s offer.

"Okay. I´m in," Bjorn said with a smile.
"Great!"

Ante looked at Bjorn, very pleased with himself. Then he pushed the thin little newspaper he had been reading over to Bjorn, pointing to an article on the front page. "Five stars for Nora´s place," was the title, spelled out in English rather than Norwegian.

"Here, why don´t you read this? It will make your mouth water!" Ante said. But Bjorn´s eyes was on the title of the newspaper. "The Lundby Gazette."
"They got their own newspaper?" Bjorn asked puzzled. "In English?"
"Yeah. Its a free weekly thing, and it´s all in English. Most people in Lundby don´t speak Norwegian, so I guess that´s why. I picked this one up last time I was down there. You find them everywhere. Didn´t you come across this on the ferry. They have them there too. In those metal boxes, you know."
"Really?"
"The articles are mainly promotions of Lundby as a tourist destination. But it features real news too."
"And who´s behind this?"
"I don´t know. Who cares? It´s a pretty good paper, for what it is. You find them on line too, if you´re interested. I´m sure you´ll find out who runs the thing if you´re curious. I suspect it's controlled by Jan, though. He is the one with the casino, so he is the one most likely to benefit from the PR."

Bjorn picked up the flimsy paper, and started reading it, quickly noticing that the grammar was far from perfect. Someone with a fairly limited knowledge of English was behind this, and the spelling was probably only as good as it was due to automatic spell checking. But the layout and look and feel of the thing was as good as anything. It looked very professional, so it was painfully irritating that the grammar made it hard to read at times.