128

Having confirmed that they will not bow to any authority but that which comes from the Golden Rule, the whole congregation started singing and dancing, with Aung and Elisabeth once again leading by example. But this time, the two women encouraged people to join them up by the altar, and pretty soon there was a whole little choir up in front of Frederico, singing and praising the Lord.

This went on for some time before Frederico once again took centre stage, quoting a few passages from the Bibel. Then he reminded everyone that the first step in entering the Kingdom of God is to embrace the Golden Rule, and declare oneself a citizen of the empire.

"Remember that the empire is a place you can enter and leave as you please," Frederico reiterated. "However, as most of us already know, being a citizen of the empire is such a joy that once the citizenship has been fully embraced, we never feel compelled to leave the empire. Rather, we seek to take the next step towards Him and His Kingdom."

And to this, everyone responded with a great big "hallelujah". The music started again, and there was more singing and swinging, praising the Lord and general merriment.

Bjorn felt it all a bit over the top, but he joined in as best as he could, not wanting to spoil the fun, or stand out as the odd one in the crowd. Igor and Olga were happily taking part, swinging from side to side next to Bjorn, and Ante too appeared to fully embrace the happy go lucky swing of things.

Bjorn sang as best as he could, swinging from side to side, when he noticed Peter up by the altar, apparently sharing some amusing observation with Frederico. And seeing the two men right next to each other like that, Bjorn remembered in a flash where he had seen Frederico before.

Frederico was the tall blond guy who stood behind Bjorn in line for one of Peter's sandwiches, that first day he had been to the village. And Bjorn felt strangely satisfied to realize this, as if remembering a detail like that confirmed something important about him. Bjorn felt himself quite uplifted by it, and this little push made him for a moment join wholeheartedly in the singing.

For a moment, Bjorn had no qualms about the ecstatic enthusiasm around him, and to his surprise, he quite enjoyed it. It was all a wonderful celebration of life and love. And even he, a convinced atheist, found real joy in celebrating life by praising the Lord and honouring His name.

127

There was suddenly a high pitched noise from a microphone, and this had the effect of drawing everybody's attention to the head of the church, where Frederico was about to start the sermon.

Then, having caught everybody's attention, Frederico greeted everybody, clearly pleased to see his church full of people.

"Welcome to my little church," he said, with a great big smile. "Welcome to the empire. Welcome to the Kingdom of God."

"And to all you new folks out there, let me briefly explain about my church and my teaching."

"First of all, keep in mind that this is the Church of the Golden Rule. That means that anyone can come and go as they please. There is no prerequisite criterion to enter my church. However, everyone here is expected to honour the Golden Rule as this is my property. Anyone breaking that rule, and not immediately repenting, must leave, by force if necessary."

"The use of force is in other words not prohibited under the Golden Rule. It is quite legitimate when used in defence of one's life or property. We do not wish for people to be defenceless in the face of evil. We wish for everyone to be able to defend themselves. That is what love is all about, to wish for everyone to feel safe in the presence of others, even the evil ones."

"So let us first take a moment to feel the joy and the love that comes with a clear and honest belief in this beautiful law that says that we must not do anything to anyone unless we would like that same thing done onto us."

"Let us pray!"

And with this, Frederico signalled to all to raise up and stand.

"And remember that we are not going begging for stuff from our Father. We are not crawling in the dust for His favours. We are made in His image, and we behave towards Him as we would towards our own parents. With respect, but as equals."

"Feel free to bring up issues that you struggle with. Dwell on these for a moment, and do this with the Golden Rule as your guiding light! For in the light of His law lies the key to the solution. Whatever you struggle with, make it clear to yourself that the solution can only be love. Only love has the power to solve conflicts, be they inter-personal or internal."

And with this, Frederico let his congregation stand in silence, contemplating their issues, big or small, for a while long enough to feel refreshing.

"And be sure now, to act on the love that you have let into your heart with this little prayer," Frederico concluded. Then he signalled for music to be played, and everybody joined in the singing.

Aung and Elisabeth, in their robes, lead the singing from up by the altar, and Bjorn could not help feeling quite uplifted by the whole thing. The two women, so different, and yet so similar in their firmly held believes and enthusiasm, were practically glowing up at the little podium. And Frederico looked very proud and pleased with the women who did such a wonderful job of spreading a sense of joy to everyone.

When the singing came to an end, Frederico stepped again forward, continuing his lecture.

"It seems to me," he said with a smile. "That we are now all in the empire. That we are all full of love for each other, and that we wish only the best for everyone around us. So I ask you: are we all citizens of the empire, guided solely by the Golden Rule?"

And to this, the congregation answered, "yes we are!"
"What are we?" Frederico asked enthusiastically.
"We are the citizens," was the loud reply of the audience.
"Citizens of what?"
"Of the empire!"
"Of what empire?"
"The Fifth Empire. We are the citizens of the Fifth Empire."

The enthusiasm was genuine, and a little unnerving, Bjorn thought. Especially since the replies were well coordinated with Elisabeth holding up big cards with the replies written clearly on them. The audience was simply responding blindly with what was written on Elisabeth's cards.

Frederico signalled to everyone that they could sit down again. Then he made a thoughtful gesture before continuing on his lecture.

"We have received quite a lot of attention lately," he said. "Our message is getting out there, and people seem to like what they hear. And why shouldn't they. Our message is a message of love. What is there not to like about that, you may ask."

"Well, quite a lot, it appears. There are quite a few people calling us heathens and atheists, and a danger to ourselves and our surroundings. Which I find quite strange considering the occult and dangerous nature of what my critics themselves believe."

"They are all worshippers of the Social Contract it appears, and most of them believe in the occult powers of Democracy to make crooked things straight by a magic of share numbers."

"But the notion that a non-existent contract or a majority of people can somehow invalidate the Golden Rule is clearly nonsense. Democracy can be used to choose a leader of a company or a similar voluntary association of men, but democracy cannot endow such leaders with powers that conflict with the Golden Rule. Such an idea is not only nonsensical. It is extremely dangerous, as it serves to legitimize evil by way of magic."

"And others say that we are simply replacing one coercive system with another, and that the state is not abolished with our philosophy, but simply transferred to me and my friends. They claim that the Fifth Empire is a theocracy, similar to what exists in places like Iran and Saudi-Arabia."

"But they are wrong, of course. I am not your superior. I am simply your priest, and I do not pretend to hold any special powers over any of you. As I have already said. You are all free to leave. No one will come after you if you choose to leave the empire. No one will dig a hole in the ground and have you stoned to death for leaving, and no one will follow you around, claiming tribute in the form of taxes."

"There is no state in the empire. There is no coercion. And no one is born a citizen of the empire. The empire is a place you enter or leave as you please. You need no permission from anyone to do so. You need no passport to enter. You need no passport to leave. The empire is the very opposite of the state."

"Others claim that having a boss is no different to being a subject of a state. But such a claim is absurd, of course. No one forces you to work for a particular boss. And everyone is free to be self employed if they wish. Where is the similarity? What is the equivalent of being self employed? The state claims ownership of us from the moment we are born, and we have no right to become independent. Our only right in the eyes of the state is to choose subjugation to another state, and even that has to be done according to rules set out by the state itself."

"Well, I say enough of that!"

"We are born free. And we are forever free to be whatever we like. Let no one tell you otherwise! Do not be blinded by the false belief that is the Social Contract, or in the magical power of democracy to turn what is evil into that which is right."

"Jesus is our only guide, and even he is not our superior, but our equal."

"Let us stand up again and tell Jesus that we will not subjugate ourselves to anyone, not even Him. We will not subject ourselves to the false religion of authority. There is no other authority than the Golden Rule, articulated by Jesus himself. To break that rule is a crime, no matter who tells you to do so. King Solomon cannot make what is crooked right by simply declaring it to be so. And no president, no king, no priest, no ruler has any such power."

"We are all responsible for our own actions. No authority can change that. If you kill someone, it is you who did that. If you take somebody's property, it is you who did that. If you lock somebody up, it is you who did that. Claiming that you only followed orders, or that it was the law, is no defence, because there is only one law. And that law is the Golden Rule. Everything else is simply regulations, and regulations that break the Golden Rule are evil, and of the Devil."

"Let us tell Jesus that we swear to uphold His law, and reject any rule contradicting this as the evil that it is."

Frederico gestured to the empty throne next to the altar, and everybody looked towards it as if Jesus was indeed sitting there. Bjorn found this creepy. But there was no evil intent in anything he had heard, and he did not feel threatened. He felt safe.

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.

125

Bjorn quite enjoyed his conversation with Frederico. There was nothing pushy or pretentious about the way Frederico explained his theology, and Bjorn found it quite refreshing to be able to ask straight forward questions without feeling a need to watch his language or defend his secular views.

Frederico did not seem the least bit anxious to convert anybody. He was obviously convinced that he had it all figured out, and that people would see things his way once it had been explained properly to them, making it quite counter productive to be pushy in any way.

But the conversation was broken off just as Bjorn was starting to warm up to the idea of the empire and the kingdom. A tall black woman entered the church from the side, shortly followed by an Asian woman who Bjorn immediately recognized as Aung.

"Isn't that just typical?" the black woman said. "You go off ahead of us, saying you will get things ready, and then you just hang around talking to strangers... You haven't done a thing, have you?"

Frederico did not answer, but told Bjorn and Ante that this was his wife, Elisabeth. Then he turned to Aung, introducing her too to Ante and Bjorn. And for a moment they all did their little polite routine, shaking hands while telling Elisabeth and Frederico how they knew Aung from Nora's place, and that Bjorn had even met Aung at Ane's factory on Wednesday.

"It's a small place, this village," Elisabeth commented. "Not exactly São Paulo."
"No, you're right about that," Frederico said with a nod and a smile.
"So you're from São Paulo?" Bjorn asked.
"Yep. That's where we met."
"And you're from Burma, aren't you?" Bjorn asked, turning to Aung.
"Well, how did you know?" Aung asked.
"Didn't you tell me that yourself?"
"Did I? I don't know."
"Well, anyway, with a name like Aung..."

Aung nodded, clearly pleased with Bjorn's attention to details. Then, Elisabeth called off the small talk, noting that people would be coming to the church any moment, and that there was no time to waste.

The two women disappeared into a small room to the side, emerging a little later, each wearing a robe, covering their semi-formal attire.

However, Frederico did not let his wife's playful nagging distract him from continuing his conversation with Bjorn. Frederico lit two candles, one on each side of the alter, and proceeded to turn on some lights in the ceiling, while continuing on his little lecture.

"Any entity trying to interfere in our direct communication with Him is by its very nature evil," Frederico explained. "And the greatest and fiercest entity of this kind today is the state."

"The state tries to deceive us into thinking that there is somehow a need for authority above and beyond Jesus and His law. And the state makes the claim that our belief in God and the Golden Rule is somehow occult and irrational, while in fact, it is the state that is based on an irrational and deeply occult presumption."

"The state assumes authority where no authority has been given, and the state enforces its authority by systematically breaking the Golden Rule."

"The state is in fact a false religion, demanding everyone's loyalty from the moment they are born, claiming a contract exists between it and every person born within it's realm."

"It is perverse to the extreme. Imagine the insanity of such a claim!"

Bjorn looked blankly at Frederico, not quite getting what he was driving at. But once again, Frederico did not mind Bjorn's reluctance or inability to make sense of what he was saying.

"You are Norwegian, I take it," Frederico asked.
"Yes I am," Bjorn confirmed.
"So you have to pay taxes to the Norwegian state, right?"
"Yes, like everyone else in Norway."
"And why exactly do you have to pay these taxes."
"Well... It's the law."
"And you will be put in jail if you try to avoid this, right?"
"Yes."
"Which violates the Golden Rule, does it not?"
"Yeah, I guess so."

Frederico took a short break to let this last point sink in. Then he continued.

"The state claims the right to your hard earned money based on a fiction called the Social Contract. And to believe in this fiction requires such a leap of faith that the resurrection dims in comparison."

"How can anyone really believe that a newly born baby has signed a contract, and that this contract requires it to live a life in bondage to the state?"

"Only the most evil of religions deny a person the right to leave."
"But that's not true," Bjorn protested. "Anyone is free to leave, if they wish."
"Really?"
"Yeah, I can change my citizenship if I please."
"But then you're still the property of some state. Change of citizenship does not free you from the state. It merely moves you from one jurisdiction to another."

Bjorn nodded.

"Okay. So what?"
"Well, don't you see? The state insists we must believe in the so called Social Contract, and that we are tied to it from birth. Yet, no such contract exists. It is as occult as it gets. Believing in it makes you an idol worshipper, and makes you accept laws that are in direct violation with the Golden Rule."

"The state drives a wedge between people and God, obscuring the eternal truth, while seeking to replace it with its own phoney theology."

"The state is also dangerous in other ways," Frederico continued. "By its claim that it holds authority over us, and that its laws are valid despite of being in direct violation with the Golden Rule, it inspires blind obedience in its worshippers, an obedience towards evil, no less. And countless are the people murdered and slaughtered and imprisoned by the followers of the state."

"The state is of Satan, no less. It is pure evil, even in its most moderate form."
"Well, that's a bit rich isn't it?" Bjorn said, a little amused with Frederico's hyperbole.
"You think so?"
"Yes. I think you'd be more convincing if you did not exaggerate so much."
"So why don't you give me an example of a moderate state, and I'll show you how evil it actually is."

Bjorn shook his head.

"How about Norway?" he said.
"Well, that's easy," Frederico said with a smile. "Even I have heard about Odd and how he's being tortured for not paying his taxes."
"But tax evasion is a crime," Bjorn protested.
"Says who?"
"Well, the state."
"Exactly."

Bjorn, seeing how he was trapped in Frederico's logic, gave his defence of the state a final go.

"So, what are you suggesting?" Bjorn asked. "That we stop paying taxes? How will that work out?"
"It will work out just fine," Frederico replied. "I know, because that is what Jesus would have wanted."
"Chaos?"
"No. Order. It is the state that throws innocent people in jail. Jesus never suggested anything like that."
"So we should just abandon the state? Is that what you suggest?"
"That is indeed what I suggest."
"So that is what this whole Fifth Empire thing is about?" Bjorn asked. "You suggest we all join this empire as an alternative to the state. Isn't that the same as just joining nothing, becoming a recluse as it were."
"No. There is a big difference between becoming a recluse and being a citizen of the empire. A citizen is not merely against the state, a citizen is for the Fifth Empire, the community of people living together according to the Golden Rule."

124

"So, would you two be interested in having a look inside while I prepare for mass?" Frederico asked.

Bjorn nodded eagerly. "I'd love to have a look."
"And how about you?" Frederico asked, looking at Ante.
"Well, why not? It's not like we are in any rush or anything."

"So what are two uniformed men up to here in Lundby on a Sunday morning?" Frederico asked as the three headed up to the church.
"We're actually off duty," Ante explained. "We're only in uniform because we did not bother to change into civilian."
"Is that so? Well, the uniform looks nice and warm."
"And so does your suit," Ante replied politely.
"Thanks. It is a wool suit, as you can see. Just the thing for the kind of weather we get up here."

Frederico opened the heavy oak door to the church, letting Bjorn and Ante in before him.

"It's a nice little church, you got here," Bjorn said as they stepped into the aisle. "And there's your throne up there, I see."
"His throne, you mean," Frederico corrected. "It symbolizes the fact that no one can legally sit on a throne, except for Jesus."
"And are you expecting his arrival any time soon?" Ante asked playfully.
"Not physically, no," Frederico answered in earnest. "But in spirit, he never left. And in that respect, he's sitting there right now."

They walked up to the throne which was placed to the right of the altar, elaborately decorated with gold paint, flower patterns, and a red velvet cushion.

"The return of Jesus is not a physical return of Him in flesh and blood as many believe," Frederico explained. "Such a return is of course impossible, and will never happen. But the return of His spirit is not only possible, but happening everywhere as we speak. Every day, we see people turning away from the false prophets and returning to Jesus, and as they do so, they see clearly all the evils that are around them, and they stand up to it, and they refuse to take part in it."

Bjorn nodded, not fully understanding what Frederico was trying to say. But it sounded good, even quite convincing.

"And what exactly are these people seeing?" Bjorn asked, curious to hear if Frederico could explain the evils that he claimed to be everywhere.
"They see the false laws and the false prophets for what they are," Frederico explained.
"The laws that violate the Golden Rule?" Bjorn asked.
"Exactly! And the agents enforcing this evil, the false prophets. It's all in the Bible. Mattheu 7:12 to be exact."
"It is?"
"It is indeed," Frederico said with a smile. Then, quoting the passage in the Bible, he added "Therefore all things whatever ye would that men should do to you, do ye even so to them: for this is the law and the prophets."
"And?"
"Well, there you are," Frederico concluded confidently. "We either adhere to the Golden Rule, or we don't. If we do, we embrace the law and the prophets. And if we don't we are obeying false laws and false prophets. It's either or. You can't have it both ways."
"And that is basically what you preach in this church?" Bjorn asked.
"It is indeed. That is why this church is called the Church of the Golden Rule. We embrace the golden rule completely, and we invite people to join us. First by bringing them into the empire. And then, once His law has been fully embraced, we proceed to His kingdom where we can find eternal piece and forgiveness."

Bjorn nodded impressed. "It makes perfect sense," he noted. "So are you going to push a Bible on us now, or do you have other plans?"
"No, no. That's not how we do things here. It is entirely up to you to embrace this or not. I'm just telling you how to proceed."

123

There was something familiar with the well dressed man approaching Ante and Bjorn. Bjorn knew he had seen him before somewhere, but could not remember where. He was not surprised, though, when the man put out his hand for a handshake, introducing himself as Frederico.

He did indeed look very German, yet he spoke with a Brazilian accent. The man was probably, as Thomas had said, a third generation descendant of Nazi war criminals. But there was nothing immediately unpleasant or sinister about him. Quite the contrary, he seemed like a very nice guy. And when Bjorn asked about the symbolic significance of the armillary sphere, he was eager to explain.

"You are quite right," the man said with genuine enthusiasm. "It is indeed an old symbol of empire. You will find it quite commonplace in countries like Portugal and Spain, but I like to read a little more into this symbol than the merely superficial."

The man went up closer to the sphere to illustrate how the ball in the middle was the earth and the various bands represented the stars and the heavenly order associated with it.

"And as you know," Frederico concluded. "Heavenly order is guaranteed by God Himself. This is in other words not merely a symbol of any old empire, but the symbol of God's own empire, the Fifth Empire which I am sure you've already heard about."
"The Kingdom of God, in other words?" Bjorn suggested, curious to hear Frederico confirm this himself.
"Well... Not really. The Kingdom of God will eventually fill this empire completely, but the empire and the kingdom is not one and the same. Anyone can become a citizen of the empire. But to enter the Kingdom of God, you have to be a Christian as well."
"Yeah?"
"Or put another way. The Fifth Empire is the secular framework of the kingdom. In order to get to the kingdom, you first have to enter the empire."

Bjorn looked confused, and Ante looked like he felt a little embarrassed on Frederico's behalf. But Frederico was not the least bit deterred by this.

"You know the Golden Rule, right?" Frederico asked.
"Sure!" both Ante and Bjorn replied, with a nod.
"Well, the empire is where you go if you embrace this rule fully and wholeheartedly."
"Okay?"
"And you do not have to be a Christian to agree with the Golden Rule, do you?"
"No, you don't."
"But you have to embrace this rule fully in order to be a Christian."
"Yeah?"
"It says so in scripture. The Golden Rule is the law. Everything else is just regulations, and any regulation that conflict with the Golden Rule is plain and pure evil. The so called laws out there that conflict with the Golden Rule are of the Devil. They are evil constructs that will ultimately be the end of civilization as we know it."
"That is a little rich, isn't it?"
"Not at all. How could doing something to a person that you would not want done to yourself ever be anything but evil?"
"Yeah, but the end of civilization?" Bjorn protested. "I mean..."
"So anyway," Frederico continued, breaking Bjorn off in mid speech. "The empire is the first step towards the kingdom. No one can get to the kingdom without entering the empire first. It is quite impossible, and that is what makes the empire so important to us. Not only is the empire a secular framework on which everyone can agree, it is the first steppingstone on our way to the His kingdom."

122

Ante parked his car, and the two men stepped out in the fresh air. There was a light breeze coming in from the fjord adding to the freshness without being bothersome, and Bjorn felt quite invigorated as he stretched his legs and looked around.

"Let's go up to the church," Bjorn suggested, his gaze drawn to the little white building.
"Sure, why not?" Ante replied. "Let's start by taking a look at the village from up there."
"And the church too..."
"And the church, if that's what you want."

Then, as they walked down to the intersection with the road going up to the church, Ante asked if Bjorn was planning to take a look inside the church while up there, to which Bjorn replied that he would if it was all right with Ante.

"You are curious about it, aren't you?" Ante asked.
"Well, aren't you. I mean, there's some seriously occult stuff going on up there."
"You think so?"
"Maybe occult isn't the right word," Bjorn answered. "But there's definitely something going on. Something important for the village."

The men passed the big pile of snow that had shrunk quite a bit since Wednesday, despite having been added to with fresh snow piled onto it from yesterday's snowstorm.

"You're probably right about it being important," Ante agreed. "But I'm not sure if it is all that occult. I don't think they are hiding anything from us. My impression is that it is a happy go lucky kind of congregation, nothing sinister or ill intended. Just your average hallelujah sort of church."
"Except for all the talk of the Fifth Empire, that is," Bjorn added.
"Yeah... Except for that," Ante replied with a smile.

They climbed the steep hill to the top where the street took a sharp turn to the right, beyond which it continued in a straight line, following the top of the ridge. To the right of the church stood what appeared to be the vicarage, and right in front of the men, separated from the street by a spacious front yard, all gravel and rock, stood the church itself, with a wide open property going all the way down to the fish factory to the north.

The tall rock behind the church looked menacing and dangerous, the way it rose straight up from the ground, only a few yards away from the church.

"That is Jesus' two fingers pointing to the heavens," Ante explained, and Bjorn saw immediately what Ante was referring to. The rock had a nicely rounded peak with a slightly lower equally rounded peak next to it. And there was an indent between the two peaks going all the way down to the base of the rock.
"That's quite fitting, isn't it?" Bjorn commented. "This being a church and all."
"It certainly is. That's why they decided to build it here. The pastor who had it built, loved the symbolism of it."

The two men wandered into the church grounds to have a look around, first admiring the view of Lundby, before returning their attention to the church and the church yard.

"So, what is that?" Bjorn asked pointing to a column in the middle of the path.
"You mean the globe perched on top of it?"
"Yeah."
"Isn't that an armillary sphere?" Ante asked rhetorically.
"A what?"
"You know... an armillary sphere. It symbolizes the heavens, I believe. Haven't you noticed how this place is full of these things?"
"No. Where?"
"In the casino, for instance."
"So this place and the casino, really are connected somehow."
"I guess they are. But that shouldn't be a big surprise. Jan was raving about the church and the empire in his closing speech."
"Well, I wasn't there, remember?"
"True. That's true."

Bjorn walked up to the globe to take a closer look at it. It was the size of a football and stood on a roughly hewn granite pillar, the height of a table.

"You know where I've seen this thing before?" Bjorn asked.
"No. Where?"
"In the Portuguese flag."
"Yeah?"
"And the Fifth Empire is an old Portuguese myth, isn't that so?"
"That's what they say."
"So this... this armillary sphere, as you call it, is not just a reference to the heavens. It is a reference to the empire, don't you think?"
"Well, I guess you might be right," Ante answered. Then noticing a man coming their way from over by the vicarage, he added, "I believe the true expert on this is over there, though. Why don't you ask him?"

121

The village was relatively quiet, but by no means dead. Several market stalls in the village square were open, with their customers a mix of tired night owls and perky early birds.

Ante drove around the square in the direction of the parking lot. But instead of driving up the knoll to park his car he passed it by.

"Let's see if we can find the bowling alley everybody were talking about," Ante said, as he drove past the knoll towards the narrow street leading in behind the casino.

Bjorn nodded, thinking "why not", and started looking for the bowling alley, which turned out to be very easy to find. It was located along the road right behind the casino with a big neon sign above it saying "bowling" in bold letters, with the o drawn in the shape of a bowling ball, and the i and the l shaped as pegs.

The bowling alley was located next to a large shed that served as an auto garage, and with Ante driving slowly passed it, Bjorn had no trouble getting an impression of the place. There were at least three cars in there, and two men were hunched over the engine of one of them, clearly busy at work.

"This place really has everything," Bjorn commented as Ante took another left to get back to the square.
"It does seem so, doesn't it?" Ante agreed. "And to imagine that these people would otherwise have been locked up in the old asylum centres. What a waste of human resources."
"Yeah, you got a point there," Bjorn said with a nod. "It's actually better for everyone, isn't it? Bringing them all up her, I mean."
"Well, I think so anyway. It is a shame the way they have been treated."
"So why do you think they're protesting in places like Lier?"
"Good question. They must be thinking that this is some kind of hell."
"And it is, in a way, isn't it?" Bjorn said cheekily, knowing full well that Ante was rather fond of the arctic.
"Careful now, Bjorn!" Ante replied. "You're talking about my parent's home town. I have fond memories of this place, you know."
"I know. I just couldn't help myself."

Then, as Ante circled the village square a second time, Bjorn noticed the young black boy who had begged for money the other day, still hanging around Pingo where the odd bargain hunter was coming out with trolley loads of stuff. And sure enough, he was already at it, running over to people to offer his help as they came out of Pingo.

"You don't see that much any more do you?" Bjorn wondered out loud as he saw the kid rush over to a man with a full trolley.
"What?" Ante asked.
"Kids offering to help people for a penny or two."
"No, kids stopped doing that long time ago."

Bjorn nodded thoughtfully. He could remember his grandmother telling him about these things still being quite common during her father's time, and wondering whatever happened to that kind of service oriented attitude. So even his grandmother thought it a forgotten habit. Yet, here in Lundby, the olden days were in some respect being revived. Kids were out in the streets looking for ways to make a penny or two.

The desperation caused by the rampant poverty in the village had revived the old and much forgotten habit of always trying to find a way to make a penny.

120

The drive down to Lundby was pleasant but uneventful. Bjorn noted that there were people working on the apartment building by the water, despite it being Sunday. However, there were not as many working there as on a regular weekday. Some people were clearly taking time off, while others were not.

"No wonder that this building is being completed in record time, with so many people working on it all the time," Bjorn commented as they drove past it.
"Yep. They get things done down here," Ante agreed. "It is quite impressive what they have managed to do in such a short period of time."

Then, as they passed the billboard with the ad for the casino, Ante continued with his thoughts.

"You know, it used to take for ever to get anything done down here. My grandparents told me that the fish factory took a full five years to complete in its time. I bet these people could put up a shed like that, complete with machines and all, in less than a month."
"So what's their secret formula, you think?" Bjorn asked.
"Nothing."
"Nothing?"
"Yep. These people don't worry about anything. There is no bureaucracy. There's nothing stopping them."
"And as a result, they are already in a slamming match with each other," Bjorn commented. "You know, Ane is dumping fish waste straight into the water, and the neighbours are anything but pleased. That's the sort of mess you get without any rules or regulations."
"Maybe so, but they sure get things done."

Bjorn had to admit that Ante had a point, but he could not free himself from thinking that this free wheeling anything goes attitude in the end would lead to some pretty unfortunate consequences.

119

Ante and Bjorn were finishing their breakfast, eagerly anticipating their Sunday outing, when Frank appeared in the kitchen.

He looked unusually relaxed and pleased with himself as he sat down for breakfast.

"So, what are you two up to today?" Frank asked, sensing their eagerness to leave.
"We're going down to the village," Ante answered.
"And why not?" Frank asked rhetorically. "It looks like it will be a nice day."
"It does indeed."
"Any special plans?"
"No, not really. I'll show Bjorn around, and we plan to have lunch at Peppe's."
"So you're planning to leave us here alone to take care of our own lunch?"
"No, no... There's a lasagne in the fridge, ready to go into the oven. I've told Thomas all about it. He'll get it baked."
"Well, that's awfully good of you, Ante. You really know how to take care of us, don't you?"
"You guys are always on my mind, you know," Ante answered with a big smile.

The men chuckled and Bjorn took the opportunity to gather his things, casually mentioning the incident with the private jet as he did so.

"Is that so?" Frank asked. "That's certainly interesting."
"The airport isn't opened, is it?"
"No it isn't, and we don't have anyone down there to check what they are bringing in or taking out of the colony."
"Is there any plans to open it, though?"
"I believe there are. But it will of course have to be properly regulated when it happens. Can't have people flying in and out of the colony without any control, can we?"
"No, of course not."

Frank ate quietly, watching Ante and Bjorn put their plates and cutlery into the dishwasher.

"I'll inform Oslo about what you saw, Bjorn," Frank said as the two headed for the exit. "Are you back before dinner?"
"Yes, we'll be back after lunch," Ante confirmed.

Then, turning around in the doorway, Ante asked Frank about the dress code for going to Lundby.

"Is it all right if we go like this?" he asked. "In uniform, I mean."
"Sure," Frank replied. "And keep the guns on you too. We need to be more visible to the villagers, show them that we're watching them. That kind of thing, you  know."

Ante looked over at Bjorn who had followed the exchange of words.

"Is that all right with you too, Bjorn?" he asked.
"Sure, why not?"

Bjorn had been thinking that he and Ante would have to change into civilian clothes since this was a non-official outing. But he had no strong feelings either way, and simply grabbing the jacket hanging on the rack by the exit was certainly more convenient than having to change in and out of civilian clothes.

The two men put on their coats and stepped out in the cool crispness of the arctic spring weather, loudly pronouncing a final goodbye to Frank in the kitchen as they did so.

118

The vision of the airplane stuck to his mind, and with nothing else to occupy him, Bjorn found himself speculating around it, wondering if he had missed something important. But he could not remember any mention of anything that could explain what he had just seen. And when Bjorn was relieved of his duties by Espen, he too had no ready answer to why a plane would come in like that in the middle of the night.

"A private jet?" Espen asked, trying to come up with an explanation.
"Yeah."
"Someone rich and powerful, in other words... It might have been Pedro."
"Or Jan, or that ship owner?" Bjorn suggested.
"Yeah, someone like that," Espen agreed.
"But why?"
"Well, why not?

And why not indeed? The airport was there after all, and why not take advantage of this? If the destination was Lundby, or the port, it would be the quickest way to get there.

The incident was not all that mysterious when he looked at it that way, and when Bjorn entered the kitchen carrying his empty thermos over to the sink, he told Ante about it as if there was nothing very unexpected about it.

Ante looked up from the breakfast he was eating.

"Does not sound quite right to me, though. I'd report this to Frank if I were you," he said.
"Sure, I'll send him a mail right away."
"Yeah, but have some breakfast first, will you?"

Ante pointed over to Bjorn's spot at the table. Everything was set for him to sit down and enjoy the bacon, eggs and other goodies.

Bjorn sat down, and pretty soon the two men were talking about their planned trip to Lundby.

"I used to visit Lundby quite a lot as a kid, you know," Ante remarked. "But that all changed when the place was abandoned."
"Sad story, how that went with Lundby back then," Bjorn commented.
"Sure is... It will be interesting to see how long the current revival goes on before it's all shut down again."
"You think they will shut the place down?"
"I do."
"Why?"

Ante gave Bjorn incredulous look, as if the question made no sense at all.

"Yeah, yeah, I know. It's getting a little out of hand, isn't it?" Bjorn admitted.
"A little? The place is an anarchy. Anything goes down there."
"And how do you feel about that?" Bjorn asked, curious to see if Ante was merely pointing out an obvious fact, or if he was expressing his personal opinion.
"Me? Well... I love it. But it is not the sort of place that Oslo will leave alone for very much longer... And what else can they do than shut the whole place down?"
"They could regulate it like every other place in this country."
"Sure... Which was precisely the reason this place got shut down in the first place. Lundby died due to those regulations, and it will die again for the exact same reason."

Bjorn looked at Ante with a crooked smile.

"You've been talking to Thomas again, haven't you?" Bjorn asked.
"Sure... But he's right."
"Maybe so... And if so, all the more reason for us to go down there and explore it while it still exists."
"You're damn right, we will!" Ante agreed. "Let's go down there right away."

117

The alarm on his mobile phone shook Bjorn out of his deep sleep, and the pain of being woken up so brutally made him immediately regret having agreed to Ante's deal. But he had no choice at this point but to get out of bed and replace whoever was in the glass cage.

Bjorn turned on the lights and headed to the showers for a quick wash. Then he put on his uniform and strapped on his gun before going down to the kitchen to make himself a sandwich and some coffee. A red glow to the north east could be seen from the kitchen, and for a moment Bjorn was again fascinated by the view.

"A few more weeks now, and there will be a midnight sun hanging there, just above the horizon," Bjorn thought to himself, trying to imagine what that would be like.

He poured the freshly made coffee into a thermos, and proceeded to head for the glass cage, sandwich and thermos in hand. It had stopped raining and there was a tear in the clouds, revealing the moon to the west. The cold air was invigorating, and Bjorn found himself looking forward to the six hours ahead of himself.

"Six hours of quiet solitary meditation is not a bad way to start a day," he thought, feeling content and ready to take his turn.

Bjorn was a little surprised to find Frank standing outside the glass cage, impatiently waiting to be replace, but he immediately knew his surprise was silly. He knew full well that Frank too took his occasional turn in the cage, and it was Bjorn's lack of attention to such details that had made him miss the fact that Frank was the one he was to replace.

Frank's impatience made Bjorn worried for a moment that he might be late. But on checking his watch he could see that he was in fact a few minutes early. He had nothing to be ashamed of. Frank was simply eager to get his shift over and done with, and was waiting on Bjorn in much the same way an early morning commuter waits for his bus.

On seeing Bjorn, Frank swung the belt of the semi automatic gun he was carrying, off his shoulders in preparation of giving it to Bjorn. And the following exchange of duties was brief to the point of being almost wordless. Bjorn got the gun and the key to the gun rack, and Frank headed off to the barracks with nothing but a "see you later" to wish Bjorn well.

But Bjorn did not mind the briefness of the exchange. He put his thermos and sandwich on the little ledge by the window, next to the door. Then he swung the belt of the gun over his head and onto his left shoulder where he let it hang while sticking the key to the gun rack into his pocket.

Bjorn pulled out a cigarette, lit it and took a deep puff before turning his attention to the road.

"There is not going to be much traffic at this hour," Bjorn thought with a smile. "All the more time to meditate and daydream."

And Bjorn was right. Not a single car passed the check point during the following six hours. And had it not been for a curious incident an hour or so into his guard duty, there would have been nothing to report. However, the incident was strange and somewhat eerie, and definitely something to report back to Frank.

Bjorn was sitting in his chair, sipping his coffee while the sun slowly rose to the east when he suddenly became aware of a light hanging over the mountains to the north west. The light seemed to hover in mid air like a star of some kind, gradually growing brighter.

Then he heard a distant humming sound, and he realized that he was watching a low flying airplane coming straight at him. It continued on its path straight towards him for another few seconds before turning gracefully in the direction of the abandoned airfield.

For a moment, Bjorn could see the private jet perfectly with its engines humming at low power and its sleek exterior, shiny and white. But once it disappeared behind a hill to the east, it was as if it had not been there at all. It was as if he had imagined it, and that it had not actually flown by.

116

Bjorn went straight up to his room after dinner, and feeling fully satisfied by the meal, and a little drowsy from the wine, he prepared himself for bed. Having to get up in the middle of the night, it was pretty much ideal that he felt this way, since it would allow him to have a proper rest before getting up.

Bjorn turned on the TV to have a quick look at the latest news before calling it a day. But there was nothing new going on apart from a few developments in ongoing news stories. The most noteworthy development being the sentencing to life in prison of a man who quite randomly killed a child in a play park some months ago.

The details of this story were never told, but rumors had it that he slashed the little boy's throat for no reason whatsoever. However, others held that he was an aspiring Syria fighter who could not wait to claim his place in heaven by killing an infidel. And with all the talk of what to do about returning Syria fighters, this latest rumour had caught on to the extent that many believed it to be an established fact.

One thing was certain, though. Whatever happened in the play park that day was not to be officially confirmed or denied by anyone. The court case was held behind closed doors, and apart form the accusation of premeditated murder, and the guilty sentence that had just been announced, nothing was neither confirmed nor denied about the rumors.

But Bjorn was beyond being shocked by the story. It was already an old story, and the announcement that the perpetrator was finally found guilty did not stir up any unpleasant feelings. Rather the opposite was the case. Justice had won the day, and an evil criminal was put behind bars.

In other news, there was the continuing story about the crisis, which for some reason had recently had its name changed to the recovery. One had to be an idiot to believe that things were actually getting better. But the recovery was, according to the news, now evident in everything from the stock market and commodities prices, to the ever falling gold price and stabilizing house prices. Very soon now, the man in the street would also be able to see that the recession was over, and that a new economic dawn was on its way.

The very latest political invention which would allegedly help the recovery on its way, was a proposal to outlaw the use of cash, thereby forcing every transaction to be electronic. The banks, having long ago made all electronic payments free of charge, were fully equipped for such a change, and with only the black market in contraband and illegal services really needing cash for their opaque business transactions, there was nothing to loose in a right out ban on cash.

The savings to the banks and the central bank in administrative overhead alone were phenomenal, and the tax man could easily pull in several percent more in revenue through an increased power to monitor and track every transaction. Criminals were in fact the only ones who would loose anything by a move to a cashless society, and the bill was already well on its way to become law, which would make Norway the first country in the world to fully embrace such a system.

Bjorn felt a sense of pride swell up in him on digesting this latest statement. As a Norwegian he would be taking part in what was truly a great leap forward, and although this was not in any way his idea, he could not help take pride in the forward looking genius and pioneering spirit of his fellow country men.

And with this sense of achievement, as it were, Bjorn turned off the TV and the lights in his room which pretty much immediately had him fall into a deep dreamless sleep.

115

By the time Bjorn got out in the hallway, everybody were clattering down the stairs, except for Frank who came staggering out of his room apparently just woken up from a dream.

"Hi Frank," Bjorn said cheerfully. "I need to talk to you about a thing."
"About what?" Frank asked grumpily.
"About a boat taxi I came across last night."
"I know, I know," Frank interjected. "Geir told me all about it."
"He did?" Bjorn asked, feeling a sting of disappointment.
"He sent me an e-mail."
"Oh... So that's taken care of then?"
"I've reported it on to Oslo," Frank explained, leading Bjorn towards the stairs. "We don't have the resources to control the entire coast line for this kind of thing, so my suggestion is that we should employ the coast guard to patrol the entrance to the bay. That way every boat coming and going can be controlled as they pass through the narrow straight to Kirkenes."

Bjorn nodded in agreement, as he walked down the stairs. Frank sure knew his stuff. He might be a show off, but he had a good head on his shoulders, at least when he made an effort to use it.

Sitting down at the table, Frank was not very happy to see his gun, but revealed no concern about this apart from an almost undetectable twitch. Then, he simply pulled the gun towards himself, and lay it across his lap. Frank was obviously in no mood to talk about the gun, and Ante, together with Bjorn, pretended to be completely ignorant about it. And with John and Espen either oblivious to it, or sensing the unspoken tension related to the gun, did not remark on it either.

And to make absolutely sure that no one would mention the gun, Bjorn announced to everyone his intention to go out with a plate of food and a glass of wine to Thomas out in the glass cage. And this had the desired effect of setting off the conversation on a happy and careless note.

Bjorn piled up some meat, potatoes and vegetables on a plate, poured a generous glass of red wine, and headed out to Thomas with it all, grabbing a paper napkin and some cutlery on his way out.

The rain had turned to a light drizzle, and Bjorn got to the glass cage without getting wet beyond a very light sprinkle that did not even soak into his clothes.

"Thanks, that's very good of you," Thomas said cheerfully as Bjorn entered the tiny office. "This will certainly make my time here in the cage pass quicker."
"I´m sure it will," Bjorn agreed.

Then, before heading back to the barracks, Bjorn took in the view from the glass cage. The clouds hanging low and heavy over the bay added to the fairy tale beauty of the place. The utter greyness and lifelessness conjured up the feeling that this was indeed the edge of the world, an arctic corner where no man was ever supposed to come, and which civilization had violated by adding roads and houses in godless defiance of the natural order of things.

"It's almost a little spooky, isn't it?" Bjorn asked rhetorically.
"What is?" Thomas asked, taking an initial sip of his wine.
"The view."
"I like it," Thomas said as a matter of fact.
"Me too," Bjorn agreed. "It's beautiful."

Bjorn left Thomas with his plate of food and glass of wine, heading back to the kitchen where the conversation had turned to the riots at the asylum centre in Lier. John had learned from looking around on the web that the riots had indeed been taking place at the very same place where Lars had organized his demonstration just days before, and John was sensing a conspiracy of some kind.

"So you think that Lars is behind it?" Espen asked.
"Well, he did not seem very upset with the riots, did he?" John replied.
"When was Lars ever upset with a riot?" Frank commented with a grin.
"But you have to admit it's a little disconcerting that he is targeting Lundby with his rhetoric these days." John added in defence of his theory.
"And that is why we are going to get a big fence around this place," Frank explained. "As long as we are one step ahead of the mob, we're fine."

The men fell silent on this note, and Bjorn took another sip of his red wine, only to be struck by its unusual taste.

"So what wine is this?" Bjorn asked, taking the opportunity to change the subject matter.
"It is a red green wine," Ante answered with a big smile.
"So they do exist," Bjorn commented glibly.
"They do indeed! Proves that even you can be right at times."
"Wasn't it Espen who came up with that theory" Bjorn asked modestly, turning to Espen.
"Or was it Thomas?" Espen asked.

Ante looked around the table with a smile.

"You know, maybe we should all take credit for being such good thinkers," Ante suggested.

And with this the conversation turned permanently to lighter matters. The wine drinkers at the table all agreed that the wine had an unusual feel to it which went quite well with the turkey. But they were more divided when it came to whether or not to repeat the experience. Frank and Espen thought it a nice experience as a one off, while Bjorn and Ante thought it good enough to try again, with Ante suggesting they should try the wine again one day with a duck or a goose or some similar fatty bird.

"Well, you're the one in charge of the household," Frank noted. "So I guess the decision is ultimately yours to make."
"It is indeed," Ante said smiling form ear to ear.

114

It was of course still possible that the page was some sort of prank, but the mention of Rogue Justice in the Gazette and the ad in the Blacklist gave Bjorn a strong feeling that it was in fact a real service. Contacting whoever was behind the e-mail address would almost certainly lead to a serious response which in turn could result in the violent death of a person.

It was an unnerving thought, and the way the ad had appeared right next to the names of people who in some cases were merely doing their job, added to the sense that this whole thing was getting out of control, that Lundby was full of crooks actively involved in all sorts of criminal activity.

The prostitution, the drugs, the protection rackets, and now even hired guns ready to kill for money; the village was quite obviously in the hands of the Mafia, and if not stopped pretty soon, who could know where this would end?

Bjorn turned off his computer. He got up from his chair and stretched his body to relieve himself from the tension that had built up while he was hunkered over his PC. Then he took a final look at the village before drawing the curtains. He turned on the TV and sat down in his bed to get some rest before dinner.

Something very sinister was going on in the village, and Bjorn got a cold lump in his stomach from thinking about it. He and his colleagues were after all at the very front line should anything happen. Maybe his "bunker boys" colleagues were right after all, that some sort of conflict was inevitable, and that the checkpoint would in fact be attacked one day. Terrorist attacks were after all becoming increasingly common. Police stations and army barracks were going up in flames every day in various hotspots around the world it seemed, and here he was at the very front line of an out of control village, full of armed people, some of whom evidently feeling entitled to kill whomever they have a grudge against.

Bjorn flicked through the channels on his TV in search of something soothing, skipping quickly past anything with even a hint of violence in it. But feeling edgy from thinking about Lundby, he had no patience for pure silliness either, so he found himself changing channels quite frequently until he finally landed on a documentary about kids who had been saved from kidnappers. And although the subject matter was violent in a way, there was something soothing about the topic. Good people had come to these kids' rescue, and here they were, safe and sound, and ready to talk about their ordeals.

With so much violence and destruction going on in the world, it was good to be reminded of the many heroes out there taking it upon themselves to make the world a better place. And the part of the documentary that Bjorn had landed on was particularly touching. A brother and sister were sitting on a sofa, flanked by their parents, telling the interviewer that if it had not been for their guardian angels, they would have been living in perpetual fear of their would be kidnappers.

Bjorn found the term "guardian angels" quaint but fitting. "What better word to describe people dedicating their lives to saving children?" he thought as he listened to the kids parent narrating their side of the story. Bjorn clicked on the info button on the remote control, and sure enough, the documentary he was watching was simply called "The Guardian Angels". And although he at this point realized that he was watching a program about the child protective services, he did not change the channel, despite having just realized that he had failed in preventing Cecilie, as she called herself, from entering the village with her daughter.

Bjorn was fascinated by what he was watching. The heroic nature of the work the "guardian angels" were doing was inspiring, and Bjorn wondered for a while if he should take it upon himself to find Cecilie and her daughter, and bring them back to Alta to meet with the angles. Or better still, find out where they were hiding and simply report this to them.

But there was something artificial about the documentary that slowly grew on him. A strange sense of unease as the stories, a little too extreme to be entirely believable, unfolded and revealed that the parents were not in fact the parents of the children, but their foster parents. And that the kidnapping was not so much a kidnapping as a desperate attempt by the children's biological parents to escape the child protection services.

If these guardian angels were so keen to help, why the drama and the sudden impulses to bring in the police to forcefully take the children away from the parents. Was there really an epidemic of child molestation by biological parents against their own children out there? Did the better safe than sorry attitude that these angles were promoting really make sense?

And then, much to Bjorn's amazement, the woman in charge of the child protection services in Alta appeared, and Bjorn could not help think of the long list of complaints against her as she sat there smugly bragging about the hundreds of children she had personally saved.

"Hundreds?" Bjorn thought in disbelief. "Hundreds of children saved in an area that has less than ten thousand children." And why on earth was this woman, of all the so called guardian angles out there, the one to get so much positive attention in the documentary? It seemed odd that a person who evidently is much feared and clearly hated by many should get such an opportunity to brag of her achievements.

She even got the honour of making the closing statement for the documentary. The interviewer asked urgently and passionately who would save the children if it was not for guardian angles like her. And the head of the child protection services in Alta nodded with a knowing smile, adding rhetorically "who indeed?"

And with this question in mind Bjorn was left pondering its implications as the list of credits appeared on the screen. It was easy for him to think that they may be overdoing things a bit in Alta, but did he have any better solutions? He was no expert in these matters, and what did he know about child molestation? And the evidence was there. Children were being saved, and who would do this if not the angles?

But Bjorn did not get any time to think more about this. It was dinner time, and Ante was knocking on doors, telling everybody to come down to the kitchen to take part in the feast.

And eager to join Ante and his other colleagues Bjorn rose quickly from his bed, which made him suddenly feel dizzy, just like last night at the casino. But Bjorn was too eager to go down and eat to worry about this, and after having steadied himself against the wall for a moment to regaining his balance, he simply made a mental note that he had to talk to a doctor one of these days.

113

With Thomas in the room, it was suddenly as if the whole thing with Frank's gun was settled and sorted out, including the strong suspicion that Frank was somehow compromised or corrupted. And when Ante and Thomas left for the kitchen, Bjorn did not immediately see any problem with Frank's gun being left at the coffee table in front of him. However, Bjorn soon felt like going up to his room, and feeling it a little too irresponsible to leave the gun unattended in the living room, he brought it with him to the kitchen.

"Isn't it better if you keep this gun with you until Frank comes down to pick it up?" Bjorn asked as he put the gun down on the dining table.
"Why not leave it on Frank's spot?" Thomas suggested from over by the counter where he was preparing a sandwich for himself.
"Like here?" Bjorn asked, pushing the gun over to Frank's regular spot.
"Yeah, like that."
"And that's all right with you, Ante?" Bjorn asked.
"Sure! Why not?" Ante answered as if the whole discussion was without consequences as far as he was concerned.

Bjorn smiled. Ante's sudden change of temperament was amusing, considering how anxious he had been. And Ante smiled back in unspoken recognition of this.

Thomas' cluelessness regarding the significance of the gun had clearly been both refreshing and uplifting as far as Ante was concerned. And Thomas' continued ignorance as he headed for the glass cage with his sandwich and thermos with freshly made coffee, was putting Ante back into his usual careless and happy self. However, Bjorn did not stay behind to chat with Ante. Instead, he followed Thomas out in the hall before heading up stairs to his room.

Bjorn wanted to find out more about Rogue Justice. The way it had been mentioned in the Gazette was strangely obscure, and its business model seemed far fetched to say the least. Bjorn knew that he would not be able to keep his mind off the subject before doing at least some research on it, so small talk with Ante, no mater how pleasant this usually was, was of little interested to him at the moment.

Back in his room, Bjorn felt completely at ease as he sat down in front of his computer. He could see cars down by the fjord driving back and forth between the village and the port, and he was reminded of the article in the Gazette predicting an unusually busy weekend with record number of bargain hunters coming and going. And he could also see Nora's place in the distance. The large boulder next to it made it easy to pick out among the houses along the distant shoreline.

Bjorn turned on his computer and typed in "Rogue Justice" in the search field of his browser.

Nothing of relevance came up on his screen, so Bjorn added the word "assassins" to the search string to see if this gave a better result, but this search returned an even sadder looking list.

"So it does not exist, then?" Bjorn thought to himself. Then he changed the word "assassins" with the word "blacklist", more out of idle curiosity than anything else, and immediately got up the address of the recently created web site for registering all sorts of bickering and complaints.

Bjorn clicked on the link to the Blacklist, and was surprised to see how much it had developed since the last time he looked at it. People had clearly been busy adding people they disliked to the web page, and the first page that Bjorn found himself reading even had a list of "most wanted criminals".

There was a banner in a bold font stressing that all of the bellow mentioned people must be considered innocent until proven guilty, but on clicking on a few of the people in the list, there was no doubt that they were all guilty of grave crimes. Two of them had pictures of themselves grinning from ear to ear as they held up severed human heads, and a third had a video attached to his name showing him executing a bunch of kids by shooting them in the back.

Bjorn found the collection of evidence so sickening that he stopped clicking on the links to them, and focused instead on the written accusations and the demands for retribution.

Not too surprisingly, the top ten list was filled entirely by mass murderers from far off places like Mexico, Columbia, Congo and Syria. However, when he narrowed the list down geographically to Lundby and surrounding areas, Bjorn was surprised to see public officials being listed among the most wanted, with the single most sought after "criminal" being the head of the child protection services in Alta.

Bjorn clicked on the link to see what the complaint was, and was not too surprised to see the accusation of kidnapping being levied against her. It is after all the job of the child protection services to act forcefully at times to save children form their abusive parents, and it is inevitable that some of these parents feel strongly about their loss of custody over their own children. To accuse the head of this social service in Alta of kidnapping was in other words nothing short of low level bickering.

However, the list of plaintiffs levying charges against this particular woman was surprisingly long, and looking through the list Bjorn was struck by how many of the plaintiffs were shamelessly exposing themselves with a resent picture of themselves and with their full name and address for everyone to see. "Where is the shame?" he wondered as he eyed the list with quiet curiosity. "Didn't it use to be the ultimate shame to be judged unfit to raise a child? Didn't people use to come up with all sorts of excuses and avoid the subject all together if their child was taken away from them by the state?"

"Not any more, evidently," Bjorn concluded as he finally reached the end of the list, where to his shock a familiar face was staring right at him. It was the woman who insisted on being let into the colony the other day, and Bjorn realized on seeing her that he had in fact enabled a crime by letting her in. This woman was most certainly running away from the authorities, and a danger to her daughter. And he had let her into the colony without mentioning this to anybody but Ante.

Bjorn clicked on the picture, getting up the full details on the woman. Her name was Cecilie, and her address was still unchanged from the one she must have had in Alta. And her accusation levied at the head of the child protection services in Alta was that of attempted kidnapping of her daughter.

There was no more information on the woman, and Bjorn was about to leave the page when he glanced over at the right column with its add for Lance Securities. The ad was unchanged. However, a thin black banner appearing directly underneath the ad for Lance made it look somewhat altered.

He looked at the banner, and got another surprise. "Rogue Justice" it said in deep red letters on the black background, as if deliberately making itself hard to find. Bjorn clicked on it and found himself redirected to a website with no name. The URL field did not contain a name of a website, but an IP address, followed by a few slashes separated with some more numbers.

The odd looking address only added to the sense that the website was deliberately hiding in the very darkest corners of the web, and when Bjorn poked around on the screen, he realized that the webpage was nothing but a single image. The little text there were was clearly meant for purely human interpretation, deliberately using hard to read fonts to make image recognition software incapable of reading it. And the only text on the page was a cryptic message which required some thinking in order to be recognized as an e-mail address. The rest was a series of images making it clear to the determined reader that the service provided by the webpage's owner was indeed that of a hired gun.