176

Bjorn had just sat down in his chair when he became aware of a car coming down from Neiden. Every time the car made a turn, the headlights flickered in the big mirror hanging outside the office. Bjorn watch the car as it came down the windy road, disappearing behind rocks and hills, reappearing a little later, and then disappearing again, off and on until it finally arrived at the checkpoint.

"Passport!" Bjorn said in a formal voice. Then he proceeded to tell the driver about the new rules before typing in the number found in the passport handed over to him. Bjorn hit return, and up came a copy of the passport he was holding in his hand, complete with a green banner telling him that all was clear.
"So I better stock up on things today, while it's still legal?" the driver asked rhetorically.
"That's right!" Bjorn answered with a friendly smile, handing the passport back to the driver. Then he pushed the green button to raise the barrier.

Bjorn followed the car with his eyes as it wound its way downhill until it disappeared behind the hill to the north east, and he was again left to his own thoughts. He looked at his PC. Then he pulled up a second tab on his browser. "I wonder what the Lundby Blacklist has to say about Einar," Bjorn thought, finding the web address in his browser history. "Somehow I doubt they have anything on the man." And sure enough, the Blacklist used by the citizens of Lundby did not contain any mention of Einar.

Bjorn typed in Katinka's name. Nothing. Then he typed in Roger's name: also nothing. "How about David?" Bjorn wondered. He typed in his name, and got nothing. "But he's married to that Maria woman. That's probably worth something," Bjorn thought while idly typing in Cecilie's name for a final search. Bjorn hit return, and to his surprise, he got up Cecilie's profile. However, it was the same page he had seen earlier so his surprise soon passed. She was, as Bjorn already knew, listed as plaintiff in the case against the head of the child protection service in Alta. There were no charges against Cecilie. No one had charged her of anything.

Bjorn looked at the woman's profile. "So, which is it?" he wondered. "Is she dangerous and a criminal, or not?" He thought back to the episode in the church where Cecilie had come with her daughter, all done up and pretty. It did not look like anything was amiss. And they sat down with Ane and Ola. Why would Ane and Ola be involved with this woman if she was dangerous?

On the other hand, why would the child protecting service want to interfere if nothing was amiss? That made no sense either. Bjorn stared at the computer screen, trying to make sense of the situation. But the pieces simply did not fit together. He was missing something, some important fact that would solve the puzzle. Then he became aware of the status field associated with Cecilie's complaint. The case was on hold. It was not new, not active, nor resolved. It was on hold, and curious to know why, Bjorn clicked on it.

Up came the details of the complaint with its long list of plaintiffs. Bjorn clicked on the name of the defendant. However, all he got was her summary page. The woman was either ignorant of this case, or more likely, ignoring it as a crank thing with no legitimacy. Either way, she did not have a profile on the Blacklist.

Bjorn returned to the complaint. Then he scrolled down to the comment section, the last comment being posted by Maria. "Again, and I repeat myself," it read. "Just like following orders is no defense, giving orders is no crime. Unless you can show hard evidence that this woman has acted and aggressed personally against you and your children, you have no case. Please go to my defense of the foreign minister for a complete explanation."

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.

87

Bjorn leant back in his chair, sipping his beer in silence. He felt a fuming frustration with Thomas and his definition of slavery, but also a sneaking suspicion that the real source of his frustration was Ola and Ane, and that the thing that was really upsetting him was a jealousy of their youth and success.

Bjorn was not the oldest one in the casino, but he was clearly a good deal older than most. And what did he have to show for it? Nothing. For a few weeks he had lived under the illusion that he too was rich, when in fact he had signed the papers that would bankrupt him. And the fall had been horrendous, brutal and unyielding, with the tax man showing no mercy as he rejected every single one of Bjorn's arguments. The inheritance tax could not be recalculated. It was set in stone as it were, and would never be forgiven.

Ola's great sin was simply to be the man that Bjorn would liked to have been. His success reminded Bjorn of his own failure, and it was this more than anything that made him feel so edgy and hostile towards both Ola and Ane. But this was neither the place nor time to dwell on the past. Bjorn was on a journey of his own, he thought, even if he was just an observer. Lundby was an exciting place, and the casino was full of life and energy. He was an explorer of sorts, and his success would be a private one, not measured in wealth, but in experiences.

Sipping his beer, Bjorn convinced himself that he would be successful in his own way, and that his life was as exciting as anyone's. And pretty soon he felt almost relieved to know that Ane was living her own life, quite separate from his, for he had better things to do than to be together with a woman obsessed with fish and profits. Bjorn was free. And his very lack of material wealth was the source of this freedom.

Looking out on the dance floor, with people dancing and moving about, some hoping for love, and others looking to make some money, Bjorn felt relieved to know that he was above this. He was beyond this hustling and sentimental nonsense. Bjorn was the observer, separate from the daily struggles, hopes and fears of the people around him.

Bjorn took another sip of his beer, enjoying the sense of calm that was starting to fill his every fibre. Then Espen made a comment out of the blue.

"They were both from Fredrikstad," Espen said, as if announcing something deep and significant.
"Who," Bjorn asked.
"Ola and Per."
"Yeah? And?"
"Well, they said they were from Longyear... But no one grows up in Longyear. It's not a place where people raise families."
"True... The place is so far north it's a wonder anyone lives there at all."
"Yeah! Compared to Longyear, Lundby is almost a tropical paradise." Thomas added. "But what makes you so sure they are from Fredrikstad?"
"Their dialect... I got family in Fredrikstad, and they talked just like them... Toned down a bit, but still..."
"So you think they were lying about Longyear?" Thomas asked, confused by Espen's story.
"No, no... I'm just saying that they must have grown up in Fredrikstad. I'm sure they've been working the mines up at Svalbard. But that's not where they are from originally."
"Okay?" Thomas answered without any sign of interest in what Espen was talking about.

Bjorn didn't find Espen's comment very interesting either and slipped back into his meditative mood rather than making any effort to keep the conversation going. Bjorn looked over at the table where he had last seen Frank and Ante, thinking that it would be nice to have Ante back at their table, but the table was empty. He looked around, but could see neither Frank nor Ante anywhere in the room. However, Bjorn didn't feel like making a point of their disappearance, preferring to sit quietly and enjoy his meditative state instead.

"It's nice how they keep the music down enough for us to be able to talk without shouting on top of our voices," Espen commented idly, apparently trying to start another conversation.
"It's the way they positioned the loudspeakers," Thomas explained. "See how they hang right above the dance floor. That way it is loud where it matters, and more mellow out here."
"So that is how they do it," Espen answered in apparent wonder.
"Yeah, there are no loudspeakers out here, as you can see."

Bjorn looked up to verify Thomas' claim, but felt immediately dizzy.

"Oh my! I'm more drunk than I thought," Bjorn said, turning his gaze quickly to the floor to fight a sudden spell of nausea.
"You're all right?" Espen asked.
"Sure... I just have to stop drinking."
"Need some help getting out in the fresh air?" Thomas asked.
"No, no... I'm fine. I'm not sure why I feel this way... I haven't drunk all that much."

Bjorn quickly regained his balance. "What was that all about?" Bjorn thought to himself with an uneasy feeling that his sudden spell of dizziness was more than just alcohol related. But Thomas broke Bjorn's line of thoughts with a question before he had time to even start speculating on an alternative cause.

"Where is Ante?" Thomas asked. "He's not getting drunk again, is he?"
"I don't know," Bjorn answered, feeling less dizzy by the second. "I haven't seen him in a while."

The three men looked around, unable to find any trace of Ante. And Frank was also nowhere to be seen. But just as Thomas were about to get up to go looking for the two men, Ante appeared from the back of the room, all smiles and with a glass in his hand.

"Is that a cocktail, you got there?" Thomas asked as Ante presented himself at the table.
"No, it's a long drink," Ante answered with a broad smile. "A Rum Fizz to be exact."
"But you are our designated driver!" Thomas said with quiet despair.
"Sure... But I'm not drunk... I'm fine... I'll get you all back safe and sound to the checkpoint when the time comes."

86

Ola leant back in his chair, looking around as if to take in the place one last time before leaving.

"Well, I think we'll leave now," he said to Per. "We can have a few last beers over at my place if you're still thirsty." Then, leaning over towards Bjorn and his two colleagues, he excused himself, putting his hands on his knees, ready to rise and leave.
"So you're staying at Ola and Ane's place tonight," Bjorn asked, looking at Per.
"Yes he is," Ola answered. "The ferry back to Kirkenes does not run at these hours."
"No?"
"No! But we got a housekeeper, so there's no extra work for Ane or me to have people staying over," Ola added proudly.
"A house keeper! That sounds fancy," Bjorn commented acidly.
"Ganga... a Tamil girl," Ola explained, taking no notice of Bjorn's acid remark. "That's one of the great advantages of buying a place in Lundby. You can get a housekeeper for as little as fifty MG a day."
"But that is even less than your wife pays her factory workers."
"Sure, but Ganga gets a room and food for free, so she is in many ways better off than the factory workers."

Bjorn looked blankly at Ola for a second. "So those barracks over by the factory are not free for Ane's workers?"
"No, she rents them out for a hundred MG per night."
"But that's what the workers make in a day!" Bjorn protested, shocked by Ola's revelation.
"Sure, but the workers typically rent the rooms together with three or more other workers. That way they have plenty for food and other necessities."

Bjorn was speechless. Ane's shameless exploitation of her workers was much worse than he had thought. And Ola did not seem the least bit ashamed of it either. "What a loveless cold couple they must be," he thought to himself. But he had the wits to keep this thought to himself, and did not say anything to stop Ola and Per from raising up from their chairs.

"Take care, and enjoy the rest of your evening," Ola said with a friendly smile. Per said goodbye too and the two men left, leaving Bjorn, Thomas and  Espen to themselves.

"I think Ola is right," Thomas said, breaking the silence around the table.
"About what?" Bjorn asked, still shocked by Ola's revelation.
"About the house... Per should buy it now while prices are down... The influx of asylum seekers isn't going to be nearly as bad as people think."
"I agree!" Espen said with a nod. "I don't think Ola was very pleased about the way you put it though."
"Yeah," Bjorn said with a smile. "Mentioning Frank's fence was hardly a winning argument."

The three men smiled and shook their heads over Thomas' silly remark that had set Ola´s arguments back by quite a bit, and possibly stopped Per from ever considering buying a house in Lundby.

"It's a good thing you're not working as a diplomat," Espen commented, still chuckling.
"But you know what I found to be the winning argument?" Thomas asked rhetorically to change the subject.
"No? What?" Espen asked.
"The housekeeper."
"Really?" Bjorn asked in disbelief.
"Sure! Imagine having someone to sort out your house while you're off doing other things. I'd love to have that."
"But it's slavery!" Bjorn protested.
"No, it's not. This Ganga, or whatever, is making just as good a living as any of the factory workers."
"But they are slaves too?"
"No... They can all choose to do other stuff if they please. You're only a slave if you have no say in choosing your employer, or if you have to give away your earnings to a third party without your consent."

Bjorn did not agree, but could not find any quick counter-definition for slavery, so he found himself again lost for words.

"But you agree that the wages are terrible?" Espen commented, apparently agreeing with Bjorn, at least to some extent.
"Sure," Thomas agreed. "But as long as people are not forced to part with their earnings against their will, and have freedom to work for whoever they please, it is totally wrong to call this slavery."

Then, after taking a sip of his beer, Thomas continued.

"There is simply an oversupply of unskilled labour, and that forces the price down."
"And at what point does low wages become so low that it becomes slavery?" Bjorn asked.
"Never," Thomas answered confidently.
"Never?"
"Exactly. Slavery has to do with wage extraction and force. It has nothing to do with the amount a person earns. If Ganga is forced against her will to do a bunch of stuff she does not voluntarily agree to, she is a slave, but we have no evidence of anything like that going on in the Ola & Ane household."
"But she has no choice!" Bjorn protested. "She has no choice but to accept her lot."
"Not true," Thomas countered, still cocksure of himself. "She can work in the factory, she can open a stall at the market, she can start a business herself. She sure as hell does not have to work for Ola and Ane unless they are indeed locking her up and forcing her to do stuff. And only then would I consider her a slave. As long as I have no reason to believe that Ola or Ane are forcing Ganga to be their housekeeper, I see no reason to assume that she's a slave."

Bjorn was again unable to find a good argument to counter Thomas' assertion, but he had a distinct feeling that Thomas' definition was lacking, and he felt frustrated with Thomas insisting that the word slavery did not apply to the misery and hardship doubtlessly experienced by Ane's housekeeper and factory workers.

"But you have to admit that it would be great to have a housekeeper?" Espen asked Bjorn, evidently trying to make Bjorn see things from Thomas' perspective.
"Sure," Bjorn had to admit. "Who wouldn't like to be rich and successful? But if it had to be on other people's expense, I think I'd rather not."
"But it is not on other people's expense," Thomas insisted. "If Ane didn't employ all these people, they might be without work entirely, or working under even worse conditions. Remember, everyone working for Ane is working for Ane because they did not find a better deal with somebody else. They would in other words be worse off without her."
"Unless they are indeed slaves," Espen corrected.
"Sure... But there's no evidence of that."

85

Bjorn was suddenly speechless, and if it hadn't been for the waitress appearing with four beers, he would probably not have been able to hide his disappointment. But with the other men suddenly all busy paying for their beers, Bjorn could let the initial shock sink in in silence.

It was ridiculous to be disappointed, of course, and this in itself was half the embarrassment for Bjorn. It was not like he knew Ane, and she was in many ways way out of his league, successful, young and beautiful as she was. But he had come to think of her as an heroic lone ranger of sorts, and himself as her trusted ally. And now, that illusion was broken.

Bjorn lifted his glass to his lips, and swallowed a mouth full of beer, not for the thirst, but as a way to hide his embarrassing emotions. He looked at Ola, as he paid the waitress, and he was again struck by the sheer physical size of the man. Had he been just a little bit bigger, he could properly be classified as a giant. And to think that this enormous guy was involved with tiny Ane was almost obscene in its erotic implications.

But Ola had asked Bjorn a question, and it deserved an answer. It also gave Bjorn an opportunity to catch his balance again, and rid himself of his silly immature disappointment.

"I inspected Ane's factory on Wednesday, together with a colleague," Bjorn explained.
"Ah! So you are one of the millimetre guys," Ola said with a friendly smile.
"Is that what she called us?"
"Yep!" Ola answered, still smiling. "Are you the nasty obsessed one, or the nice clueless one?"

Bjorn could not help smiling despite the insult. "Who do you think?" he asked.
"I guess you're the nice clueless one."
"I guess you're right," Bjorn answered. "But was it really that obvious?"
"I'm afraid it was, despite your best efforts."
"Well... Maybe we shouldn't talk more about this," Bjorn continued, looking over at Thomas and Espen who were following the conversation with amusement.

"So you are all from the checkpoint?" Per asked, helpfully changing the subject for Bjorn.
"Yeah," Thomas answered.
"That makes sense."
"How?"
"Well... Five guys, obviously not all from up here, and not working at the mine either... Where else could you be working."
"True..."

Thomas took a sip of his beer, leaning back in his chair to look at the people out on the dance floor.

"But you're not from around here either, are you?" Espen asked.
"No... We moved down from Svalbard when they opened the iron mine down here," Ola said helpfully.
"You worked in the coal mines up there?" Espen asked full of wonder. "I've heard it's a crazy place."
"It is... But not as wild as Lundby."
"You think this place is weirder?" Espen asked. "But at least we don't have polar bears wandering the streets in Lundby."
"Sure... But they aren't sending thousands of people to the Longyear village, are they."
"But if it wasn't for that, then Longyear would be weirder than Lundby."

Ola took a sip of his beer. Then, after swallowing the brew with a thoughtful look on his face, he continued. "Lundby is like Longyear on steroids, minus the polar bears."
"What do you mean?" Thomas asked.
"Longyear is a tiny project in comparison to this. And it is more isolated," Ola explained. "This has the potential to become something really big."

Then, turning to Per, Ola continued. "You know, if you don't buy that house, I think I will... I'll see if I can find the money to buy it, and I'll sell it in a few years and make a ton of money."

84

Returning to the main hall where the music was playing and a few couples were moving around on the dance floor, Bjorn caught sight of Frank and Ante over at a table with two girls. They were obviously flirting and having fun, and Bjorn thought it better to let them have their fun without him interfering, so he turned to the table where he had left his jacket.

Thomas' balloon marked the spot, and both Espen and Thomas were still sitting there, guarding the pile of jackets on the ledge behind them. But they were not alone. The two big Norwegians he had seen at Nora's place were also with them, engaging them in conversation.

Bjorn immediately felt curious to hear what the athletic looking men had to say, and seeing that the chair he had been sitting in before leaving for a smoke was still free, he sat down with a friendly nod to the four men, making a point of not interfering in their conversation.

Bjorn leant back in his chair, looking for the black girl who had served them earlier while listening in on what the men were saying. He soon caught sight of the waitress and signalled that he wanted another beer by making a hand movement as if pulling draught himself. Then, leaning a little forward, he started to pay closer attention to what the four were talking about.

Apparently, the biggest and blondest of the two men was trying to convince his friend to buy a house in Lundby, claiming that there was no better time to buy a house than now while everyone was fearful of the imminent immigration of asylum seekers.

"You see, Per!" the big one said. "Things never get as bad as people think. And this big influx is going to prove me right again. First of all, very few people will choose to go up here. And those who do will be willing to work for peanuts. They are not going to cause any problems at all. And you can have a servant in your house... Heck... You can have two or three if you please."
"Yeah," Thomas agreed. "I'm pretty sure you're right. All this fear is completely misplaced... You know... We're having a fence put up around our barracks up at the checkpoint. It's a complete waste of time and money if you ask me."
"You are?" Per asked. "Isn't that an indication that things are in fact going to turn sour pretty soon. I don't think the military is putting up a fence just for the heck of it, budgets being as tight as they are these days."

The big blond guy looked at Thomas with a spark of frustration in his eye, clearly not finding Thomas' remark very helpful.

"But you have to admit, Lundby is not at all the place it has been made out to be," the big guy continued. "The only ones selling their houses at the current prices are people who have bought the crap they are telling us through the media. This place is thriving, and I can assure you that it will be just as peaceful and thriving in the future too. This is a once in a lifetime opportunity."

The waitress came with Bjorn's beer, and this caused the conversation to stop while Bjorn fished out a token to pay for his brew. Then, once the waitress left, Bjorn felt like breaking into the conversation.

"So, why are you so eager to push this house on Per?" Bjorn asked. "Sorry to interfere, but I'm curious."
The big guy sighed, as if Bjorn was asking a question for the thousandth time. "It's not me pushing this house," he said in his defence. "Per here has been moaning about how expensive everything is in Kirkenes, and how he wants a proper place to live, and I've been telling him that he should buy a place in Lundby. And now that there is a house for sale, I thought it an idea to bring him along for a tour just to see what a great place this is."
"You guys are colleagues?" Bjorn asked, trying to pin down their relationship to each other.
"Yeah," Per answered. "Ola is my boss. We are engineers... Miners if you like... Over at the iron mine by the port."
"And you've never been to Lundby," Bjorn asked. "I mean... The village."
"No."
"Yeah, isn't that crazy?" Ola blurted out, not able to hold back his frustration with his colleague. "I mean... There we are, going every day to the mines, and Per never once goes to the village to check it out... Not once!"

There was a pause as this insult sank in. Bjorn felt almost embarrassed about it, and took a big sip of his beer to hide his feeling of awkwardness. But Espen quickly filled the vacuum with a quick question.

"But now that you've seen it, you like it? Don't you?" he asked.
"Sure, it's a great place."
"So your only concern is that things may get messy when the asylum seekers come flying in?" Thomas asked.
"Yeah... I mean... You saw the news on TV, right?"
"We did," Thomas confirmed.

There was another pause in the conversation, and Ola leant back, looking for the waitress while asking the men if they too felt thirsty. Espen and Thomas looked at their nearly empty glasses, answering that they too could do with another beer. Per agreed, and Ola signalled with four fingers in the air to the waitress that they were ready for more beer.

"So your concern is purely related to security?" Bjorn asked, continuing the conversation.
"Yeah," Per answered with a nod.
"Have you considered buying insurance... There's this company called Lance..."
"Exactly!" Ola exclaimed, breaking Bjorn off in mid sentence. "That's what I have been telling him all along. My wife and I have bought insurance from Pedro. And it does not cost very much at all."
"You live here?" Bjorn asked redundantly.
"Sure!"
"And you trust Pedro?"
"He's a friend of Jan, and Jan trusts him. That's saying quite a bit."
"You know Jan too?"
"Well, we've only talked to Pedro briefly, so we don't really know Pedro. But my wife and Jan have known each other since for ever."
"Really?"
"Yeah... Jan is a childhood friend of my wife's father, and Jan's father was the one who stopped the guys in Oslo from completely gutting the factory."
"The factory?" Bjorn asked, a little lost.
"The fish processing plant," Ola explained helpfully. "My wife reopened it just this Wednesday."
"You're married to Ane?" Bjorn asked in disbelief.
"Yeah... Do you know her?"