195

"You know, I can't believe you're saying all this nonsense," John said earnestly, looking over at Thomas. "Why are you even here if you hate the state so much?"
"He doesn't know," Frank replied on Thomas' behalf. "Isn't that so?"
"Yeah. It's the truth," Thomas replied with a crooked grin. "It's not like I made any secret of my opinions either, yet here I am."
"But spending all your time watching YouTube videos and looking stuff up on Wikipedia hasn't helped, has it?" Frank suggested. "You're worse now than when you came. I'm pretty sure about that."
"You think so?" Thomas asked. "Well... you're probably right. But it's the truth what they're saying."
"You know! It isn't," Frank replied confidently. "And even if it was. What are you going to do about it? Start a revolution, or something?"

Thomas did not bother to reply. But he was cool about it all. It did not seem to bother him that none of his colleagues were buying into his propaganda, not openly anyway.

"But seriously, how did you end up here?" John asked. "They didn't draft you or anything, did they?"
"No, of course not. I applied for the job, thinking I was sure not to get it. Yet I got it anyway."
"Really?"
"Yeah. So here I am, secretly hoping that Frank will fire me so I can go back to being unemployed."

Frank chuckled. "Hey! It's not that bad up here, is it?" he protested.
"No. It's not bad at all," Thomas admitted. "I'm fine. I really am."

Ante put a fruit salad and a bowl of whipped cream on the table, and there was a pause in the discussion while everybody served themselves desert.

"Did you guys see the latest news from Libya?" Espen asked, as he dug into his bowl of fresh fruits. "Things are really getting out of hand down there."
"They sure are," Frank agreed. "It's just a matter of time before they attack one of those production facilities again. We got to send ground troops. There's no way around that."
"You heard anything about that, though?" Thomas asked. "They are not sending any of us, are they?"
"Not that I know. I'd be very surprised if they did. We're not trained for that kind of stuff."
"Well, actually we are," Espen noted dryly. "You know, border control, skirmishes, insurgence... Or did you guys get a different training than I did?"
"No," Bjorn commented. "But it was a two week thing. Not exactly a whole lot of training."
"Still... It's more than many others out there."

Frank had to admit that Espen had a point, but it was in his view very unlikely that anyone at the checkpoint would be called upon to go to Libya, especially at a time when the village was about to have its first major influx of refugees.

"It's just not going to happen," Frank said confidently. "We're almost as much in the news as the Libya crisis these days. They are not going to shift us around. This project is just too important for them to risk a cock up."
"Yeah, you're right," Espen said with a nod. "The foreign minister even said this whole project is essential for the re-vitalization of the north."
"Really?" Ante asked, genuinely surprised.
"Yeah! It's now suddenly the driving force behind his arctic conquest thing."
"You're kidding! A couple of miners, a casino, and a fish processing plant. And he's thinking he's conquering the arctic?"
"I don't think he means it literally, Ante," Frank noted dryly. "But he has this vision of the arctic, with the North East Passage connecting Europe with the far east. And Lundby is an important part of that vision. It's not a bad idea at all, when you think about it."
"It's a great idea," Espen agreed. "It's the shortest route for ships going between Europe and China. Shorter by at least a week compared to the alternatives."
"When it is ice free," Thomas added. "Which is like a few weeks every summer,"
"Sure! But with the global warming and all. The passage will be used more and more."
"And it explain why the foreign minister is so obsessed with this whole thing," Frank added. "And why we don't have to worry about Libya."

193

"So, how do I eat this thing?" Bjorn asked, scooping up a strange looking sausage for himself. "Looks like they all exploded. Was that supposed to happen?"
"It's all about the meat mix," Frank answered. "Isn't that so, Ante?"
"Yeah. They burst when you bake them. But that's normal," Ante explained. "You scoop the meat mix out with your fork and knife. Just leave the skin on your plate!"
"Okay," Bjorn answered, satisfied with the explanation.

Bjorn put a baked apple next to the sausage. Then he added a few baked potatoes and some greens.

"So this is what they eat down in Portugal?" Bjorn asked.
"That's what they say," Ante answered. "Here, have some wine to go with that!"

Bjorn tasted the food. It was delicious, as always, and the red wine made the whole setting quite festive, yet again.

"They live like kings down there, don't they?" Bjorn noted.
"It's the poorest country in the west of Europe," Espen corrected. "So no, I don't think they live like kings."
"That's assuming the people are as poor as the country," Thomas corrected. "That's not necessarily so."
"What you mean?" Espen asked.
"A country is not the same as the people of a country. If a country is poor, it may be due to all sorts of things. They might simply have a hard time collecting taxes."
"And they do," Frank noted. "That's what I heard. They refuse to pay their taxes, and so the country goes broke. It's the same with all the other countries down there. It's not only Portugal."
"Still. That doesn't mean the people are rich," Espen noted. "Didn't you see the news the other day? Hospitals closing and old people not getting their pensions. Hardly a sign of a healthy economy, is it?"

Thomas nodded. "If your health and salary depends on the state, you're screwed. But that will be true for us too pretty soon."
"So you expect your salary to be worthless one day?" Frank asked.
"Yep! I do. But not right away. I figure we have a few years to go yet."
"And what are you planning to do when that happens?"
"I don't know. I'll probably go back to fixing cars. Provided there will be any cars to fix, that is."

John chuckled. "No cars? That will be the day!"
"True. So I'm not all that worried about my future. It will be worse for those who have no practical skills. They'll end up starving."
"You are such an optimist," Frank noted with a grin.
"Real earnings are going down, you know," Thomas added dryly.
"They are not!" Espen protested. "We all got a raise I believe. Didn't we?"

Everybody around the table nodded. "And a pretty nice raise it was too!" Frank confirmed.
"It was indeed," Thomas conceded. "But that's because we all got a promotion. Real wages are still going down. If it wasn't for the raise, our real wages, in terms of purchasing power, would be falling."
"And why is that?" Bjorn asked with genuine curiosity.
"Because we have a resource economy," Thomas explained. "The price of iron and oil and coal and timber and fish, and all that stuff, is falling. So our currency is falling, making all our imports more expensive."
"So it's not the state's fault?" Bjorn asked with a smile.
"Actually. The state is to blame too," Thomas added, correcting himself. "They have promised too much, and they can't afford to pay, so they let the currency fall."

Everybody chuckled at Thomas' correction. "It's always the state's fault isn't it?" John asked.
"Sure," Thomas replied defiantly. "They always screw things up. That's how they roll."
"And the solution is to get rid of it, right?" John asked rhetorically.
"Yeah."
"But what about people like me. I rather like the state. I don't want to see it gone."
"So you are fine with all the waste and the wars and their empty promises?"
"No. But it sure beats a world with no state at all. Imagine the chaos!"
"Okay!" Thomas noted defiantly. "And all you other guys are fine with it too, right?"

Everybody nodded. "Yeah, of course. We're not buying your nonsense you know," Frank added.
"So why force me to be part of it?" Thomas asked.
"We're not forcing you," John replied. "You can leave if you want to."
"Sure. To another country. But that's not going to help me, is it? I'll still be bossed around by people who think they own me."
"So go to Somalia. They don't have any government. Who's stopping you?"

Thomas shook his head. "So I can't stay here in the country I grew up if I want to live in peace from those people nosing around in my business?"
"No. Of course not," John said. "If you want to live in Norway, you have to live by our rules."
"Our rules?" Thomas asked. "Your rules, you mean."
"It's called the social contract. Didn't you learn about that at school."
"I never signed no stinking social contract," Thomas replied.

Everybody chuckled at Thomas' remark. "Of course not," Frank commented dryly. "It's not something you sign."
"So how can it be legally binding?"
"We signed on to it when we were born," John suggested.
"Really? Are you serious?"

189

By the time Bjorn and Frank entered the parking lot, Igor had already unloaded his car. And Ante was out with Igor looking over the wares and signing off on the delivery.

"You got any mail for us? Any parcels? Letters?" Frank asked, directing his question at Igor.
"Yep! Several letters and a parcel from Oslo," Ante answered on Igor's behalf. "Looks like you got our scanner already."

Ante handed the parcel and some letters to Frank, who gave a satisfied nod at the sight of the brown cardboard box, marked special delivery.

"Let's check this out," Frank said, turning to Bjorn. "Let's see if it is the scanner."

Frank brought the box and the letters into the living room where he dropped them on the coffee table.

"Ah... This letter is for you," Frank noted as he quickly looked through the post. Frank handed the letter to Bjorn, who put it in his back pocket. Then he opened the parcel with eager anticipation.

"Well, there it is!" Frank said with a satisfied smile as it became evident that the parcel did indeed contain the promised scanner. "Looks like you'll have your PC back very soon," Frank continued while removing a small hand held device from the box. "This comes with its own PC," he explained, calling Bjorn's attention to a small laptop included in the box.

A one page instruction leaflet explained how the included PC was configured to plug and play. All that was required was to connect the scanner to the PC, and to connect the PC to the internet.

"Why don't you take this out to Geir?" Frank suggested, putting the scanner back into the box before handing it all over to Bjorn.
"Sure! I'll do that," Bjorn replied, happy to know that he would soon have his PC back.

Bjorn took the box under his arm and headed back out, where he came across Ante and Igor again.

"So it was the scanner, was it?" Ante asked.
"Yes it was," Bjorn replied with a satisfied smile. Then he set off to the glass cage to have it installed.

Bjorn found Geir strutting about on the road immediately in front of the glass box, the automatic pistol hanging across his belly. He was clearly enjoying a sense of importance where he was moving slowly around. It was not immediately clear what it was all about, but as Bjorn came closer to the glass cage, he could see that Gus and his men had started setting up a sign down the road. The curve in the road, and the steepness of the stretch of road where the men were working had hidden them from Bjorn's view.

"They are not our prisoners of war, you know," Bjorn noted dryly as he approached Geir.
"No. Of course not," Geir replied, pretending to be confused by Bjorn's remark. "I'm just watching them. Making sure they do their job right."
"Yeah, but you don't need to stand here to see them work. You can see them just as well from the office."
"Sure. But it's a nice day. And it's easier to call them from here if I see them doing anything wrong."

Bjorn looked at Geir, but did not call him out on his nonsense. Instead, he called Geir's attention to the parcel under his arm,

"I can set it up for you," Bjorn suggested, seeing that Geir was in no hurry to go into the glass cage.
"If you don't mind," Geir responded, returning his attention to Gus and his men.
"You're not curious about the scanner?" Bjorn asked.
"No. Should I? It's just a scanner, isn't it?"
"Yeah, but..."

Bjorn gave up on drawing Geir's attention back to back to the scanner. And, in fact, he was quite happy to leave the man outside, as his very presence made him nervous and irritated.

Bjorn climbed into the office with the parcel where he disconnected his own PC, and replaced it with the one sent to them from Oslo. Bjorn connected the scanner to the lap top, typed in the name and password included in the one sheet manual, and after connecting it to the web, everything came up as it should.

Bjorn made a quick check to see if he could go to other web sites, but that proved impossible. The only site accessible to the lab top was the database at the foreign ministry. And even there, the browsing he had been doing earlier was cut off. The PC was dedicated to doing one thing, and one thing only, and that was to scan passports and similar travel documents.

"Maybe just as well," Bjorn thought to himself while picking up his own laptop and charger. "It's not like we are supposed to sit out here and surf the web."

Then, as Bjorn was about to leave the glass cage, Igor drove up to the side of the office. Bjorn let him pass with a friendly smile and a push of the green button. He watched Igor drive down the hill, slowly passing Geir and Gus before speeding up. Things were harmonious in a way, Bjorn thought as he picked up his things. Even Geir seemed to fit into the picture, despite his irritating ways.

184

Bjorn finished his cigarette and headed indoors, leaving Frank behind with Gus and his two helpers to discuss the details of where to put up the signs. He found Ante, busy preparing dinner in the kitchen, and out of idle politeness, he mentioned that he had just met Gus.

"He seems like a reasonable guy," Bjorn concluded, putting his thermos on the table.
"And he's here to set up the signs about our new status as a customs office?" Ante asked.
"Yes, that's it. Kind of weird to have Gus set it up, don't you think?"
"No. Not really. We're after all buying our food down there, and Hiep and Hahn come up here every Wednesday to clean this place. Why not have Gus put up our signs too?"
"Hiep and Hahn, huh? So that's why we don't have to clean this place ourselves?"
"Well... Officially, I'm the one taking care of the cleaning, but I've outsourced it to them."
"And you're making a small profit on that too, I bet."

Ante smiled and chuckled. "You know, a penny here and a penny there."
"You're in this only for the money, aren't you?"
"Of course, aren't you?"
"Yeah, I guess. But you seem to be better at it than I am."
"I've been here longer than you. You know, the early bird gets the worm."

Ante wiped his hands leaving the prepared food on the counter, ready to go into the oven when time was right. It was a simple looking dinner. Sausages and baked apples.

"What kind of sausages are those?" Bjorn asked.
"They are Alheiras. Portuguese sausages."
"Ah, I should have known."

Ante went up to the south facing window and looked out. "So, there they are, putting up the signs," he commented, leaning a little to the side to get a better look. "It is finally official."
"Yep, we're a customs office now. Not exactly what I signed up for. But then again, hardly anything is what I expected."
"Is that so?"
"I thought this was going to be nothing but one big camp for asylum seekers, and yet, here we are, being told that the place has to be treated as a free port. Is that even legal, according to our constitution?"
"What you mean?"
"Isn't Norway an indivisible country?"
"Sure. But that doesn't mean we can't set up airports, and places like this colony. Norway is a sovereign state and we can do whatever we please within our borders. That's what it means to be sovereign."

Bjorn nodded unconvinced. "But are we retaining sovereignty down there? They don't follow our laws, and they don't use our money."
"It's all done within a perfectly legal framework, though. It's not like the foreign minister did anything illegal when he set up this camp. And those tokens they use can hardly be considered money. Like the foreign minister said, they are casino tokens, and to say that casino tokens are money is just stupid."

Bjorn nodded again, still not convinced, and a little confused by Ante's parroting of the official line.

"You're pulling my leg, aren't you?" Bjorn asked.
"Of course I am," Ante replied with a smile. "I totally agree with you. I just wanted to hear you say it, so I was playing the devil's advocate there for a minute."

"Well, anyway," Ante continued, turning away from the window. "Why don't you rinse your thermos and put it away. I'm not your servant, and I don't like people just putting their dirty stuff on my table."

172

There was a moment of awkward silence in the kitchen as the implication of Thomas' confession was sinking in. He had said what everybody must have sensed for a while. But the mention of it had nevertheless come as a shock. And Bjorn, admitting that he too had no idea why he had been selected above all the other applicants for the job he was holding, did not help the situation. There was something not quite right about the checkpoint, and everybody knew it.

Frank scratched his neck nervously. Then he broke the silence. Completely ignoring Thomas' remark, and pretending not to have heard Bjorn's response, Frank started to lay out the new rules for the checkpoint, as prescribed by their superiors in Oslo.

Lundby was from now on going to be classified as a tax free zone, a giant airport as it were, which meant that the checkpoints would from now on act as the customs offices at international airports. And this in turn meant that everyone entering the colony would have to show their passport. Furthermore, to combat crime and smuggling, every passport must be scanned both on entering and on leaving the colony. That way, there would be no problem monitoring the traffic, making sure that criminals don't enter or leave the colony. Keeping track of how long each person has been in the colony would also be easy that way, a useful feature considering that the right to a tax free quota only applied to people spending at least twenty four hours in the colony.

However, since the scanner required had yet to arrive, the passport numbers would have to be typed in by hand, and Frank handed Bjorn a piece of paper containing a web address with a user name and password.

"You have your own laptop I take it?" Frank asked as he handed the piece of paper to Bjorn.
"Yes, I do," Bjorn answered.
"And you're fine with using it for now?"
"Sure."
"And that goes for all you others as well," Frank continued, looking at everybody around the table before returning his focus to Bjorn. "If you just leave that note in the glass cage for everybody else to use, we'll all be using our own lap tops until we get the scanner."

Frank paused for a moment to let his instructions sink in. Then he continued by letting everybody know that the new rules would only come into full effect the next day.

"We will only be warning people of the new rules. However, we will start recording passport numbers, and we will have to detain any criminals that may try to enter or escape the colony," Frank continued. "The database will tell us if we are dealing with a criminal, so we don't need to memorize a long list of faces. However, the website contains a searchable blacklist of people wanted by the state, and it may be a good idea to memorize the faces of the most dangerous ones on that list."

Bjorn was for a moment distracted by the mention of a blacklist, and the fact that the rules would start being enforced on Tuesday. Was this the test that Pedro had in store for him, he wondered. And the blacklist, surely it could not be the one used by the people in Lundby. But his attention soon returned to Frank who revealed to everybody's delight that the extra work implied a higher salary for everyone.

"We will all get a raise due to this," Frank said with a smile. "However, we will also have to be less fraternal with the villagers. We are from now on obliged to wear our uniforms and carry our handguns whenever visiting the village. No more civilian clothes for us when going down there, in other words."
"Not even when on official leave?" Ante asked. "Like holidays?"
"Not even when on holiday," Frank added.
"But it's my home village, sort of," Ante protested.
"And people weren't very happy about our uniforms when we were down there yesterday," Bjorn added. "I don't think wearing our uniforms down there is going to make them like us more."
"And who's saying anything about us having to be liked by them?" Frank retorted.
"Well... Why heighten the tension?"
"Heighten tension? Come on! We have to demonstrate that we're in charge. If we don't they will surely feel emboldened, and that's the last thing we want to happen."

And with this Frank terminated his little talk. "You better get going, Bjorn. John must be getting impatient out there," he added.

171

Bjorn felt unusually well rested going down the stairs on his way to the kitchen. His weird dream was all but forgotten, and his mind was firmly set on the day ahead of him. He had noted with pleasure that the sky was without a cloud, and the thought of six hours in the glass cage, all to himself, was making him almost lyrical. "It is not a bad way to spend a few hours," he thought to himself. "Not a bad way at all."

Ante had just finished frying the bacon and eggs, setting them out on the table, when Bjorn entered the kitchen as the first of his colleagues. They greeted each other cheerfully and exchanged a few pleasantries about the weather before sitting down to eat.

"Have you tried the ham?" Ante asked, breaking the silence that descended on the two men and stuck with them from when they started their breakfast. Ante pointed to a tray full of finely cut slices of cured ham at the center of the table.
"No, I haven't," Bjorn answered.
"You should! It's very good."
"I'm not very fond of cured ham," Bjorn commented, finishing his bacon and eggs. "Dry and salty. Never liked it."
"But this is different. It's not your average Norwegian piece of meat. This is straight from the best butchers in Spain."
"Really?"

Bjorn looked at the meat, still skeptical. Then, before he had time to say any more, Frank appeared in the kitchen.

"Isn't that right?" Ante asked, looking at Frank as he sat down to eat. "The cured ham I got the other day is really nice."
"Sure is," Frank replied. "Why?"
"I'm just telling Bjorn, he should try it."
"And you should," Frank agreed. "Here, try a slice!"

Frank picked up a slice with a fork and dropped it on Bjorn's plate.

"Okay, since you insist," Bjorn said with a smile, realizing the silliness of the situation. He was being treated as a child. But it was all in good humor. And when he picked the slice up from his plate it struck him as being softer and more moist than he had expected. Quite appetizing in fact. He tore off a bit and put it in his mouth, playing along with the situation, pretending to be more reluctant to try it than he actually was.

"Well, that's very nice actually," Bjorn said, genuinely surprised by how good it tasted.
"Not your average dry piece of meat, is it?" Ante asked encouragingly.
"No! This really is very nice," Bjorn agreed.

Bjorn put the rest of the meat in his mouth. "So this is how it's supposed to taste?" he asked.
"It sure is."
"So why haven't I had this before?" Bjorn wondered out loud.
"It costs a fortune," Frank noted dryly. "That's why."
"And yet we can afford it?" Bjorn asked. "Is this one of your tricks again, Ante?"
"Tricks? No, no. I got this from Pingo. And it didn't cost a fortune, by the way. It cost less than the Norwegian stuff."
"Really?"
"Well... I don't know for sure, since Pingo does not even have the Norwegian stuff. But the only reason this Spanish ham is so darn expensive in Norway is the high tariffs. I'm pretty sure the Norwegian ham is more expensive than the Spanish, though. Without the tariffs, that is."
"Yeah, and even if it cost the same. Who would choose the Norwegian over the Spanish ham?" Frank added. "Without the tariffs, the Norwegian cured ham industry would be out of business in no time."

Bjorn cut a slice of bread for himself. He wanted to try more of the ham, and a thin slice of bread would do nicely as a base for piling up a juicy little heap.

"And this is exactly why we will have to stop people smuggling in food and drink from Lundby," Frank continued. "It's official now. We have to start confiscating stuff that people take with them from the colony."
"Really?" Ante asked. "So they finally got around to dealing with this problem?"
"I got a long mail from Oslo yesterday evening. We've basically been reclassified as a customs office."
"No big surprise there," Ante said. "You've been predicting this for weeks now, haven't you?"
"I sure have," Frank replied with a smug smile.

Bjorn took a bite out of his ham sandwich. "It's kind of unfair, isn't it?" he commented, savoring the delicious flavor of the ham.
"What you mean?" Frank asked, puzzled by Bjorn's comment.
"I mean. Why can't people have this ham if they want to. We'll still be having this, right? We won't have to pay any tariffs?"
"No, we're fine. We're actually inside the colony, so we can just keep shopping at Pingo," Ante replied. "Isn't that so, Frank?"
"Yeah... Well... Even if we weren't. It's not like we'd report ourselves, and tax ourselves. But anyway... We're definitely not bound by the import regulations. Of course not."
"So we can have this nice cheep food. But anyone living in Neiden or beyond will have to pay prohibitive taxes," Bjorn commented.
"Sure. But that's true for everybody. Everybody in Norway have to pay their taxes, including tariffs and other fees. What's so unfair about that?"
"Well... It just seems unfair."
"You know. You're starting to sound an awful lot like Thomas," Frank noted, looking critically at Bjorn, and then over at Ante who appeared to agree with Bjorn.

"You're talking about me?" Thomas asked, appearing in the doorway together with Espen, as if the mere mention of him had made him magically appear.
"Yes, we are," Ante replied with a broad smile. "Frank here, was wondering why you're even at this checkpoint. So why don't you tell him?"
"Is that so?" Thomas asked, looking over at Frank, heading for his regular spot.
"Well, not exactly. I know how you got here."
"You do? Well... why don't you tell me, because I have no idea how I got here."
"You're kidding?" Frank chuckled. "Of course you do. You're not that absent minded."
"No. But I actually made an effort not to get this job, yet I got it anyway."
"Really?"
"I made no secret of anything. I told them truthfully that my only reason for applying for this job was that I had to in order to keep my unemployment benefit. Yet I got it. And then I was trapped. If I refused to take the job, I'd loose my benefit. So here I am. And I have no idea why. I'm sure they must have had better candidates than me."

Thomas started eating his breakfast. "Come to think of it, I have no idea why you are here either," Thomas continued, looking over at Bjorn.
"Me?" Bjorn replied feeling strangely hurt by Thomas' flippant remark. Then, realizing that Thomas had a valid point, Bjorn pretended to shake the remark off by an equally flippant reply to the effect that he too had no idea why he was given the job. And to Bjorn's quiet horror, he realized that what he was saying was entirely true. He had no idea why he got the job, and seeing that he was not very good at it, and that other candidates must have been younger, fitter, and better qualified than him, he was suddenly struck by a feeling that he was somehow hand picked by someone. Not for his abilities, but for his lack there of.

169

Bjorn felt increasingly nervous and edgy as the dinner progressed. Listening to Ante's rendition of their day in Lundby, however lighthearted and fun, was making him feel uncomfortable. Many of the episodes down in the village had had a sinister undertone to it. And with Ante describing it all in his own colorful way, it all seemed even more crooked and weird than it had appeared first hand. The picture painted by Ante was of a place completely out of control, and Frank and John were clearly impressed. Espen, on the other hand was less convinced. He sent Bjorn the occasional glance to have Ante's story confirmed, to which Bjorn responded with a silent grin, signalling that the real story was not quite as wild as Ante was making it out to be.

But Ante was basically right. He wasn't making up stuff. He was just emphasizing certain aspects and episodes. And it all added up to a strange mix, both fascinating and repulsive. By the end of their meal Bjorn was sitting uncomfortably on his chair, and he was eager to get away to be on his own again. He was also starting to feel tired. It had been a long and eventful day, and he had had little sleep the night before.

When everybody got up and he was on his way out of the kitchen, Bjorn grabbed instinctively his pack of cigarettes in his pocket, yearning for a cigarette to calm his nerves before going to bed. But as he pulled out the pack he was reminded of David's advice, and the medicine that was waiting for him in his desk drawer upstairs. Bjorn put the cigarette pack back in his pocket and headed up the stairs to his room, excusing himself to his colleagues who went in to the common room to end the day there.

Bjorn ascended the stairs quickly, and he felt a rush of childish excitement as he entered his room. Finally it was time to try David's brew. It was sure to calm down his nerves, and Bjorn could not help thinking that it would give him a rush of well being too. The medicine contained cannabis oil after all. It contained other stuff too, no doubt. But it was bound to give him a pleasant experience. He was convinced of that.

Bjorn locked his door before going over to the window to pull the curtains properly shut. He sat down in his chair at his desk, opened the drawer, and pulled out the bottle. "David's Anxiety Relief" it said in large friendly letters. Just looking at the bottle made Bjorn feel calmer. Then he poured the thick liquid into the measuring cup. He took a sip of it to taste it. Then he poured the rest into his mouth, swallowing it without any problems. It was bitter, but not unpleasant.

Bjorn leaned back in his chair, half expecting some immediate effect, but nothing happened. And feeling himself a little silly for thinking that something would happen immediately, he put away the bottle and the measuring glass. Then he got up and headed for the bathroom to prepare himself for bed. That too went without incidents, and he was still feeling completely unaffected by the medicine on returning to his room.

Bjorn set the alarm on his mobile phone, turned on the TV to catch the latest news, and got into his pajamas. He only half paid attention to the drone from the TV until he finally got into bed where his attention could again be fully directed towards the events of the day.

The big headline news was a coordinated police raid on several barber shops in Oslo. Quite a number of illegal hair dressers had been operating without a license for several months, and this was now finally being dealt with by the law enforcement officers. The unlicensed hairdressers had started to crowd out the licensed shops, and this could simply not be tolerated anymore. Just like unlicensed taxi drivers, unlicensed hair dressers had to be dealt with in order to even out the playing field and make business conditions fair for all. Furthermore, unlicensed business owners of all sorts were notorious for not paying taxes, and moving with determination and force against such rogue actors was required in order to keep the economy afloat, it was argued.

Bjorn nodded in agreement. People avoiding taxation was a big problem. It was unfair to those paying their fair share, and it was bad for the economy. The welfare of the public was at stake after all. How could such things as schools and hospitals and pensions etc. be paid for if people stopped paying their taxes? Things would decay into anarchy. Things would soon be as bad as in Lundby, a place so miserable that people had to guard its limits to keep people from fleeing in droves.

Bjorn smiled for some reason. It all seemed ridiculous. He chuckled. And he knew that it had to be the medicine kicking in. He felt warm and fuzzy, and nothing seemed to matter. There was a short mention of a coldblooded assassination of two cops in London, and this bit of news which would normally have made Bjorn's heart leap in anxiety did nothing to lessen his sense of well being. Some homeless guy had shot the two officers, blaming them for his misery, which was absurd since they were out in the streets for the specific purpose of making life more secure for the homeless.

The world was going insane. But Bjorn just chuckled and shook his head in disbelief. Then he turned off the TV and light, and soon he was fast asleep.

168

Bjorn hurried back to the barracks, a little shaken by Thomas' matter of fact observation that anyone sitting in the glass cage during a raid would almost certainly be dead before they knew what was happening. However, Thomas followed up his observation by asserting that no one in the village was planning any such raid. Thomas could think of no one who would be even remotely interested in attacking the checkpoint. And this assertion, although only based on Thomas' limited experience with the village, went a long way to neutralize his initial remark. The truth of the matter remained, though. If anyone got the idea that they should target the checkpoint, killing whoever was sitting in the glass cage would be an almost risk free enterprise. Wiping out the entire checkpoint on the other hand, would require more risk taking and more fire power.

The implications of Thomas' observation were disturbing, not least because of its general nature. Guards and police officers could easily be killed, and the only reason this was not happening more often was the fact that most people do not see guards and police officers as a threat or a problem. The best way to stay safe was in other words to stay friendly and polite with whomever one was set to guard.

Bjorn entered the barracks with his thoughts still circling around Thomas' uncomfortable observation, making him feel mildly paranoid. So when he passed the door to the common room, he was distracted by the sound of the TV. Bjorn peeked into the room, and when he did not see anyone, he figured he might as well go in and turn off the TV set.

Bjorn headed towards the easy chairs in front of the TV, looking for the remote control. And having convinced himself that the room was empty, he got quite a start when he suddenly became aware of someone sitting in one of the big padded chairs. It was Geir watching TV, something that should have have come as no surprise at all. But Bjorn could not help jumping back the moment the man turned idly towards him to see who was sneaking up on him.

"Oh! It's you," Bjorn said for lack of anything better to say.
Geir looked puzzled. "Yeah?" he asked.
"You gave me a start."
"I did?"
"I didn't expect to find you here," Bjorn continued. "We're having dinner."
"I know. I'm fine though," Geir replied with a friendly smile. Geir pointed to a plate full of bread crumbs on the little table next to him. "I've just eaten," he explained.

Bjorn felt suddenly embarrassed by the whole situation. He excused himself for sneaking up on Geir, as if Geir was the one who had been startled. Geir on the other hand, simply gave him a friendly but indifferent smile as Bjorn retreated to the hallway.

Bjorn's embarrassment turned to irritation even before he entered the kitchen where he sat down in silence, next to Frank. He proceeded to scoop up rice and curry for himself from the pots put out on the table, glad to note for himself that his colleagues were fully occupied, listening to Ante who was recounting the episode when Pedro entered his apartment and everybody tried to leave through the back door.

Frank and Espen were taking great delight in Ante's colorful rendition of what happened, and Bjorn could not help feeling better by just listening to the man. The way Ante put it, it was pretty much all a farce, a lighthearted comedy with plenty of lame excuses and silly anecdotes. John too was being amused by the story, but he looked skeptical. His impatience with what Ante was saying was growing, and finally he blurted out what was on his mind.

"You know, that wasn't Pedro you were talking to," John said with conviction. "Pedro does not exist."
"Really?" Ante asked, thrown off track by John's sudden interruption. "So who was it?"
"I don't know, but it wasn't Pedro, that's for sure?"

Everyone looked at John in puzzlement.

"Pedro is just a made up guy," John continued. "He's a fiction."
"But we just had a conversation with the guy down in Lundby," Bjorn protested.
"And what did he look like?" John asked.
"Ah... Like your average Portuguese guy, I guess."
"So you don't actually know who you were talking to, do you?" John continued. "It could have been anyone."
"Sure, but..."

There was a silence in the room as everybody tried to digest John's unexpected and rather startling assertion.

"But he presented himself as Pedro, right?" Espen ventured, looking over at Ante.
"Yeah."
"And he had the keys to the apartment?"
"Sure."

Espen took a sip of his beer. "So it does not really matter who he was, does it? For all practical purposes, the man you were talking to was Pedro, no matter who he actually was."
"What you mean?" John asked, clearly irritated. "Of course it matters who he was."
"How?"

John was speechless. He had no answer.

"And that plane you saw last night," Frank said, turning to Bjorn. "I got confirmation from Oslo that it must have been Pedro."
"So there we are," Espen continued calmly. "There is a Pedro, real or not, flying in to Lundby and behaving like Pedro. Why shouldn't we simply assume that he is indeed the man he claims to be?"
"Because he is a fiction," John protested.
"And how do you know that?"
"There's nothing on him anywhere. There's only a few mentions here and there, vague references. And this idiotic claim that he is somehow responsible for all sorts of stuff."
"Like the corruption scandal in Portugal?" Bjorn suggested.
"Yeah... Like that. You see, he is a convenient fiction."

Espen scratched his ear. He was clearly not convinced by John's argument. "But don't you see that it does not really matter who the man actually is. As long as he does all the things that we expect Pedro to do, he is Pedro. regardless. Your little theory has no value. Even if you are right, and the man is simply an actor, he still has all the attributes of Pedro, and for practical purposes, that's all we need to know."

There was another silence. Espen's assertion seemed right. Yet Bjorn could not quite free himself from thinking that there was something to John's view too, and that it did indeed matter if his theory was right or wrong. But Frank broke into the silence before Bjorn could make up his mind.

"You know. I never met the man. I never talked to him" Frank said thoughtfully. "And I think Espen is right. It does not matter one bit whether he is the actual Pedro or not. As long as he does all the Pedro things, he's Pedro as far as I'm concerned."

And with this, Ante was free to resume his story. Things were settled, as it were. And even though John was far from convinced by Espen's assertion, John did not push his theory any further. Bjorn did not know what to think, but Espen's practical approach to the whole thing made a lot of sense. However, what really caught Bjorn's attention was Frank's insistence that he had not had any contact with Pedro. If true, that would mean that Frank was not necessarily corrupted by Pedro, and that Bjorn's schedule for the coming week was somehow leaked to Pedro from somebody else.

166

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

157

Bjorn and Ante found Frank and Geir sitting in front of the TV, watching a football game, in the living room. Bjorn felt a little uneasy about his bottle of medicine, tucked into the pocket of his jacket, and had preferred to go straight up to his room. However, Ante had lead him into the living room instead, insisting that they should find out about the schedules for airport right away.

"Any news about the airplane or the airport?" Ante asked after a brief exchange of pleasantries regarding the fine weather and their trip to Lundby.
"Well, quite a lot actually," Frank replied with a nod. "I just got this long e-mail from Oslo, all about things we have to change and do in order to contain the village."
"Really?"
"Yep, they are concerned about things getting out of hand. They are even bring in the coast guard to patrol the mouth of the fjord so that the detainees can't escape by boat. That should take care of the boat taxi thing, at least for now."
"And the airport?"
"It will be opened on Thursday, after we inspect it on Wednesday."
"Is that so?" Ante asked knowingly, sending Bjorn a quick glance. "And who are you sending down there to inspect it?"
"Ah... I was thinking we could send Espen and... and you, Bjorn," Frank replied hesitantly, avoiding eye contact with Geir and focusing instead on Bjorn as if desperately curious to know what Bjorn thought about the idea.
"Bjorn and Espen?" Geir asked in disbelief before Bjorn had a chance to say anything.
"Yeah, why not?" Frank asked, pretending to think the choice an excellent one.
"But they are completely clueless," Geir protested. "I mean, even Thomas would do a better job than those two."

Frank looked at his colleagues, a little lost for words.

"They are not that bad," Frank protested. "And the exercise would be good for you, don't you think, Bjorn?"
"But they need coaching," Geir continued. "They'll just roam aimlessly around. You got to admit it, Bjorn, you would have been completely lost without me down at Ane's factory."

Bjorn didn't know what to say. Geir was right. But he did not feel like admitting it in front of him.

"I'll read up on the rules," Bjorn ventured. "We'll be fine, Espen and I."
"Exactly! That's the spirit," Frank said with a smile.
"But wouldn't it be better if I came along with them, just to see that they're not missing anything?" Geir asked impatiently. "I mean, this is the airport. It's like this huge hole in the middle of the colony, and you're sending Bjorn and Espen down there so they can exercise their skills. What sort of logic is that?"
"I can't send everybody down. I need you here, Geir," Frank protested.
"But why me? Why not send me down instead of Bjorn or Espen?"

Frank looked desperate again, searching for a reasonable explanation.

"Well, I've made up my mind," Frank said abruptly. "It will be Bjorn and Espen. That's it."
"But..." Geir protested.
"No buts about it, I've made up my mind."
"But why them?"

Frank turned his attention back to the TV, signalling that he was done with the topic.

"It isn't really your idea at all, is it?" Ante suggested, and there was suddenly an eerie silence in the room while everyone was waiting for Frank's reply.
"You're right," Frank admitted, not changing his focus from the TV. "But let's just keep this among us. I'm not supposed to tell you this."
"So who's idea is this?" Geir asked in disbelief.
"I've said quite enough, Geir," Frank protested quietly. "It was an order from Oslo. That's all I can say, and even that is a secret, so let's all forget that I said this, right?"

Ante looked at Bjorn who was more than a little surprised to have learned that someone in Oslo was taking an active interest in his weekly schedule. The two men left the room. They hung off their jackets in the hallway, and without saying much, Bjorn took his bottle of medicine up to his room, while Ante went into the kitchen to start preparations for dinner.

156

Thomas greeted the two men from his seat in the glass cage as they drove slowly past his post. He looked as sloppy as ever, with his unruly hair and a jam stain clearly visible on his sweater.

"So, that's your sage," Bjorn commented mockingly as they drove by.
"Judging the book by its cover again, are you?" Ante countered with a smile. "He's a slob, that's true, but his views are worth listening to. Even if you don't agree, you're bound to pick up a thing or two."
"Yeah?"
"Like this whole child protection thing that you've been going on about. He got a pretty interesting view on that too."

Ante stopped the car outside the barracks and turned off the engine. Then he proceeded with his thoughts.

"The problem is not that they want to help children, but the way they go about it. They barge in and make a terrible mess at times. And there's hardly any consequence for them when they are caught making huge mistakes."
"Yeah?" Bjorn asked blankly.
"You know, my sister got caught up in this stupid thing when she got her divorce," Ante continued undeterred. "Her ex-mother in law told them these lies about her, presumably to help her son get custody of the child, and the whole thing ended up in court and dragged on for months."
"This is your sister in Oslo, the one helping out at the homeless shelter at times?"
"Yes. And you know, they even accused her of being a bad mother for socio-cultural reasons, as they called it. Basically insinuating that Samis are somehow inferior parents to you Germanics."
"Really?"
"Yeah! It's ridiculous, and the whole thing got thrown out of court eventually for being just too stupid. Yet it took months to get through this, and you can imagine the stress, not to mention the time wasted, and the money spent on the lawyer."

Ante reached for the handle to open the door of the car.

"And the ones behind the whole charade went away from the mess with nothing but a suggestion by the judge that they come up with better arguments next time," Ante continued, opening the door on his side. "So, had they been a little bit more careful in their fabrication of evidence, the whole case could have ended up very differently. She might have lost her kid to those people."

The men stepped out of the car. Bjorn tucked the bottle from David's pharmacy into the pocket of his jacket and grabbed a cigarette while Ante locked the doors.

"Imagine if that was a service provided by a private charity," Ante continued. "It would have been all over the news, and the charity would have gone out of business. Or they would at the very least have had to fire the scheming little rats."

Bjorn nodded thoughtfully as he lit his cigarette.

"But there are plenty of cases where the child protection service does not interfere in time, with tragic consequences," Bjorn commented.
"Sure. But they are not getting any better by letting the incompetents stay, are they?"
"No, that's true."

The two men found a sheltered spot in the sun, next to the barracks, where the dark wood panels had soaked up heat during the day.

"So, what's Thomas' solution to this problem?" Bjorn asked.
"He'd split it in two. He'd let the police take care of criminal negligence, and let charities take care of the orphans. And he'd privatize everything, of course."
"And that would solve it?"
"It would work better than what we got today."
"Why?"
"Because they would run out of fundings if they screwed things up."
"But what if the state just kept paying them regardless?"
"The state?"
"Yeah. The state splits up this service, like you say, and then hand everything over to private investors who are then guaranteed an income. If the state just keeps funding those guys regardless, nothing will improve, will it?"
"But that's not privatization. That's fascism."
"Really? But this is what privatization usually means. Just look at the way our new government is privatizing the hospitals and the old people's homes, and even the jails. They hand it over to private companies who in turn are guaranteed an income. Heck. This whole Lundby thing is nothing but one big privatization."

Ante looked at Bjorn momentarily lost for words.

"But Pedro isn't being paid by the state to operate this village," Ante ventured thoughtfully. "So Lundby is fundamentally different from the jails and the other stuff they are privatizing. In fact, Lundby has been privatized the way things should be privatized."
"Says who?"
"Says I."
"And what about Thomas?"
"I bet he'd agree with me. But you have to ask him."
"Okay. So, how exactly would you go about privatizing the child protection services?"
"I'd split it up, like Thomas, suggests. Then I would let private companies come in and take care of the policing and the charity work. And I would cut all funding coming from the state."

Bjorn tossed the butt of his cigarette into a small pile of wet snow where it hissed as it quickly died.

"You'd privatize the police?" Bjorn commented dryly. "That's a pretty silly idea."
"Why?"
"Because it won't work. Who's going to control them, and who's going to pay them?"
"It works in Lundby. And you know, it's not that unusual. We've always had private security companies. Just think of Securitas. They provide watchmen, and they turn a profit. You don't go around worrying about them, do you?"
"That's true."
"And if they screw things up, they have to clean up their act. But if the police screws up, they make an internal audit, conclude that they need more money, and that's it."
"Well, that's Thomas talking again, isn't it?" Bjorn commented with a smile.
"Yeah, you're right," Ante replied, also smiling. "Let's go in, It's getting chilly out here."

155

The fjord lay cold and still to their left as they sped along it towards the intersection with the Neiden road. Considering the numerous pot holes, bends and crests in the road, Ante's driving was as reckless as ever. However, Ante seemed to be as familiar with the road as Igor, knowing exactly where he had to slow down in order to avoid damaging his car. Oncoming traffic was also dealt with with skill and precision, with Ante never slowing down more than absolutely necessary in order to avoid bumping into the other cars or falling out on the side of the road.

Looking up the hill to his right, Bjorn could see the glass cage at the checkpoint appear every now and again as they reached a high point of the road. And even the barracks were at times visible.

"You know that woman I told you about," Bjorn said, having a sudden flashback to the church and its congregation. "The one with the girl, so determined to get into Lundby."
"Yeah?" Ante replied, speeding up along a straight stretch of road.
"I saw her in church. She was the one coming in late with her daughter all dressed up."
"The blond woman who sat down with Ane?"
"Yeah... So you know Ane?"
"No. But I know Ola, so I'm assuming the cute one next to him must have been Ane."
"You're right. She's quite a sight isn't she?"
"Absolutely."
"Well, anyway... You were right about that woman. She's on the run from the child protection services."

Ante hit the breaks, avoided a pothole before speeding up again.

"You see!" Ante said with a satisfied grim. "I'm the master of deduction, the Sherlock Holmes of the north."
"If you say so," Bjorn replied with a smile and a nod.
"So that means that we already know three people hiding out in Lundby. Four if we include the woman's daughter. And that is not including people like David and Roger. How long do you think it will take before we're asked to arrest these people?"

Bjorn cringed at the thought. He had absolutely no desire to interfere in any of these people's lives. His job was to keep people from escaping the colony, not to arrest them, and he felt deeply uncomfortable with the idea that his responsibilities may be expanded towards general policing, rather than simple mindless patrolling of the border.

"Or do you think they will let all these desperadoes flock to Lundby unhindered?" Ante continued.
"It's not our job, is it? To act as police," Bjorn protested.
"No. Not at the moment. But that can change."

Bjorn had to admit that Ante was right. Lundby was not at all the sort of place he had expected it to be, and as a consequence, his job description was likely to change too. He would not be very surprised if he one day was asked to apprehend people down in Lundby.

"And what about you?" Bjorn asked. "Would you make that arrest if you were asked to do so?"
"No I wouldn't."
"No?"

Bjorn was hoping for an explanation, but Ante didn't seem interested in expanding on his thought, and Bjorn did not feel like digging into the matter, feeling that he had already heard quite enough to paint a rather worrying picture.

Ante was evidently not prepared to follow orders slavishly, and Thomas was probably even less reliable in that respect. Then there were Frank who was almost certainly corrupted in some way. John would probably do his job reluctantly, and Espen... Well he might follow orders too, but reluctantly, although for different reasons than John.

The only one who could be relied upon to do his job without question was Geir, and this was almost as worrying as the realization that none of his other colleagues would do their job in a reliable fashion if asked to interfere in Lundby.

"But isn't Pedro the one in charge of law and order in Lundby?" Bjorn asked, suddenly remembering this detail from the original deal struck between the foreign minister and Pedro.
"Yeah. But Pedro doesn't seem to be doing much in terms of law and order, is he?"
"Well... He has this Lance security thing."
"True. But he's actually protecting David, not stopping him."
"How do you know?"
"Ah! Dear Watson, you have to pay attention! Didn't you see the stickers on his door? David has a Lance security sticker, and so does Roger. Pedro is guaranteeing their safety. And that, my friend, in case you were wondering, is the reason why I'm not going to arrest anyone in Lundby. I don't want my name on Pedro's blacklist."

Ante was right, of course. This was in the end Bjorn's big concern too. Lundby was in fact already out of control. Any attempt to rein in the citizens at this stage would be fraught with danger, and Bjorn was simply not up to it, especially knowing that he could easily end up abandoned by his colleagues in the middle of such a dangerous mission.

"Besides, I don't particularly agree with the sort of law and order that we would be asked to enforce," Ante continued, slowing down for the intersection with the Neiden road, before speeding up again for the climb up to the checkpoint. "I don't think any of those so called outlaws are actually doing anything wrong."
"Not even David?"
"Look who's talking," Ante said with a satisfied smile. "You're one of his customers. And you think he should be arrested?"
"Well..."
"And I'm certainly not going to arrest Katinka or Einar, or that woman."
"Cecilie?"
"Yeah. It's not our business to interfere in those people's lives."
"Even if the kids are in danger?"
"But they're not, are they?"
"How do you know?"
"I don't. But did you see any evidence of abuse?"
"Well... Katinka and Roger... I mean..."
"Okay! So that's a little unsavory, maybe. But did she seem distressed? Did she seem like she was in fear of Roger?"
"No... But she's too young. Don't you think?"
"And what makes you think that they are better for her in Alta? She fled the place. And now you're suggesting that we should send her back to the very place that she ran away from."
"But..."
"She's clearly thinking herself better off with Roger than in Alta. So the only way to get her away from him, without making her deeply unhappy, would be to offer her something better, not force her to return to the place she hates."
"But what if she's too young to know what's best for her?"
"Well, for one, I don't think she's too young to know this. And even if she were, it makes no sense going against her wishes. It is in the end all about what she thinks and feels, and if we just barge in and ignore all her wishes, we're surely violating her more than anyone else."

154

Bjorn looked over at the casino as Ante drove by at low speed, and a thought struck him about Jan and Pedro. The two men were no doubt in charge in the village, dominating its commerce with their money and influence. Yet they did not seem to engage in any kind of direct taxation. With the exception of Pedro's attempt to get rent from the stall owners, the two men were leaving everyone alone. And they even appeared in Frederico's church, as if to underscore their willingness to adhere to the golden rule. But why would they do that? Why not tax people? Why not establish a kingdom of their own? They could easily do that, with Jan having acquired special rights due to his Sami origin, and Pedro having a free pass to do whatever he pleases with the colony in return for taking care of the asylum seekers.

"Maybe they have some other and better way to make money?" Ante suggested when Bjorn aired his thoughts. "Or they may be up to something that we have no idea about."
"Like what?" Bjorn asked.
"Something sinister, like... you know... like something out of a Bond movie."
"Dr. Evil and Mini Me?"
"Yeah."
"Well, that's stupid. What sort of evil are you thinking of?"
"Maybe they are building a nuclear bomb so they can take over the world."
"Are you serious?"
"Not really."

Bjorn couldn't figure it out. But the idea that someone would spend a fortune building a doomsday device in order to take over the world was just right out lame. Especially considering that Jan and Pedro had not even bothered to take over Lundby.

"But if Pedro is right, you'll be over at the airport on Wednesday. Maybe you'll pick up some more clues then," Ante continued. "Who knows what he's up to out there. It has a nuclear bunker after all. Just the sort of place that Dr. Evil and Mini Me would love."
"It looked pretty abandoned when we drove past it last week."
"That's true. But something is going on out there, with that airplane landing there in the middle of the night and all."
"You're right," Bjorn admitted. "There's something going on. And if I am indeed asked to go down there on Wednesday..."
"Provided you behave properly on Tuesday," Ante interjected.
"Yeah. That's kind of creepy, isn't it. And he said that so shamelessly too."
"Like he owned you," Ante suggested.
"Yeah... well... he probably owns Frank."
"True. That would explain it. But you know what you should do?"
"No?"
"You should ask Frank casually about Tuesday and Wednesday, and see what he says. That way we'll know if Pedro had it from Frank, or from someone else, someone superior to him."

Bjorn thought Ante's suggestion interesting, but a little too confrontational to his liking. However, he nevertheless nodded in agreement as if he would in fact make such an inquiry.

The two men sat in silence until they reached the billboard welcoming people to Lundby and its casino, the back of which was now covered with another giant poster, thanking them for their visit and wishing them back soon.

"That's new, isn't it?" Bjorn said, pointing to the welcome back poster. "We haven't seen that before, have we?"
"No, it wasn't there Saturday night," Ante said in confirmation.
"And you are right about the armillary spheres," Bjorn continued. "They are everywhere... Just look at that!"

The welcome back poster was full of them, all subtly weaved into the background image. And when Bjorn turned around to have another look at the front of the billboard, he saw that the background image of that picture too was full of the gold colored spheres.

"How could I have missed that?" Bjorn continued rhetorically. "Now that you've mentioned it, I'm seeing them everywhere. Even Peppe's had one on a shelf."
"And the stickers in the windows," Ante added.
"Yeah. Together with the Lance stickers," Bjorn continued. "It's kind of creepy, don't you think?"
"Not really," Ante said, dismissing Bjorn's concern. "It's no worse than any other kind of patriotism. I mean... Look at our uniforms. We carry this little flag on our shoulders, and lots of people use flags whenever they have something to celebrate. We got our flag. They got their sphere."
"But they're mixing religion into this, with all that talk about the empire and the golden rule and stuff like that."
"Sure. But weren't you the one wanting to become a citizen just now?"
"Ah... Just to try it out, you know..."
"Anyway... there's much less difference between religion and politics than most people think," Ante continued.
"You think so?"
"Yeah. Frederico is right about that. In politics, people believe in the social contract. That's a superstition, isn't it?"
"So you listened to him while he was going on about this?" Bjorn asked. "I thought you weren't paying attention."
"Well... I've heard it all before, you know, so I was only listening with half an ear."
"Thomas has been preaching for you?"
"Exactly."

Coming down to the fjord, passing the luxury apartments, Ante continued on his thought.

"The golden rule is not much of a superstition when you think about it," he said in a quiet voice. "The social contract, on the other hand, is quite bizarre. How can anyone be tied to a contract they never signed? Unless, of course, the social contract is simply the golden rule, and that politics have changed it into meaning obedience to authority and self sacrifice."
"But even then, it would be strange to assume that newborn babies have signed onto it," Bjorn added.
"Exactly. That's why Frederico insists that everyone have to voluntarily embrace it."
"But what about those who refuse? What about people like us, who either refuse, or simply can't embrace it due to our profession?"
"People like us will always be viewed with suspicion, I guess... Which we were, right?"
"Yeah. Were we ever? I mean... That Einar guy was pretty fierce... And Katinka."
"It was unpleasant at times, wasn't it?"
"Not too bad... but yeah."
"And we haven't even done anything for real. Imagine how these people will treat people who more blatantly break the golden rule."
"It won't be pleasant."
"It won't for sure," Ante confirmed with a nod. "They will kick you out if you don't behave. They will refuse to deal with you, and they may even kill you if you keep breaking the law."
"You think so?"
"I'm sure of it."
"Isn't that a little harsh?"
"Not really. We are talking about deliberate aggression, robbery, theft, extortion, that kind of things. People like that will have a hard time in Lundby."

Bjorn looked out on the fjord, to their left. Then, struck by a thought, he continued the conversation.

"So they are in a sense worshiping their legal system?" he mused.
"That's a good way of putting it," Ante said with a nod. "Like I said, there's very little difference between religion and politics. It's all about law and ethics in the end."

153

Now that Ante had described the rock behind the church as Jesus' two fingers pointing to the heavens, Bjorn could not free himself from seeing it again as they passed the church on the way back to the car.

"He's quite a character, that Frederico, isn't he?" Bjorn commented.
"Yeah," Ante replied idly.
"That whole Golden Rule thing... It's a nice thought, don't you think?"

Ante did not answer.

"You know," Bjorn continued. "I think I'll try that citizen thing one day. I mean... its not like anything bad will happen if I do, right?"
"No, of course not. But it's a silly idea."
"You think so? Why? You think the Golden Rule is a silly idea?"
"No, no... the Golden Rule is a cute idea."
"Cute?"
"Yeah. Quaint... Nice... I like it. But it's silly to pretend we're actually following it."
"We're not?"

Ante looked at Bjorn with a skeptical frown.

"You're a border guard. How is that compatible with the golden rule?"
"But I'm not hurting anyone," Bjorn protested.
"Sure... But the whole point of your job is to impose certain rules on people."
"Well... yeah."
"Against their will."
"Yeah... but... It's our country, they have no right to go there if we don't allow it."
"No? Why not?"
"Because it is our country."
"But what if someone in Neiden or Kirkenes wants to invite someone from Lundby over to work for them, or even just visit. Would you let them?"
"No... but that's a silly example. No one is inviting anyone over from Lundby."
"And why is that, you think?"
"Well... they don't know each other for starters."
"Because they can't, right?"
"Yeah?"
"Because people like you and me are keeping them segregated."
"Well..."
"It's a kind of apartheid, isn't it? That's what we're involved in."

Bjorn shook his head in mild disbelief.

"You're clearly talking too much with Thomas."
"Yeah," Ante admitted with a sheepish smile. "But I think he has a point, though."
"Thomas?"
"Yeah... I think he's right. We're actually the bad guys."
"He said that?"
"Yeah."
"So what is he doing at the checkpoint? If he believes that, why is he still working for us? I mean... have you told Frank about this?"
"No, of course not."

Bjorn was shocked. The idea that they had a rebel in their ranks, someone who openly despised the system, was worrying.

"He's selling his soul for a decent salary, he says," Ante continued.
"He really is a grumpy old man, isn't he?"
"Yeah, I guess you're right."

Having reached the base of the hill, the two men headed directly for the knoll with the parked cars.

"Well, anyway," Bjorn continued. "I'm declaring myself a citizen right now. I'm hereby a citizen of the Fifth Empire."
"And who exactly are you saying this to?"
"To the world."
"But you know... The world doesn't care. No one out here cares one bit about what you say. It's not what you say, but what you do that defines you in the end. And the moment you go out to that glass box tomorrow you're no longer a citizen, no matter what you say."
"No?"
"No. That's why it's such a silly idea for you to declare yourself a citizen, because you'll only be a citizen when it doesn't really matter, and the moment it actually makes a difference you're back to being... well... a border guard."
"But I'll be nice to my colleagues," Bjorn protested, putting on a humorous grin to soften his protest.
"Sure... as if you weren't a nice guy already."

Bjorn nodded, content with Ante's flattery, and fully prepared to drop the topic.

"You know, you can't fake this," Ante continued, concluding his own thoughts on the subject. "Because it is a promise only to yourself, not to the world. It´s not like you have to convince anyone else that you're a true citizen. There's no bureaucrat you have to apply to."
"It's not a typical application for a citizenship, is it?" Bjorn agreed.
"No. And what's the point in being a citizen if you have to call it off every time you go to work?"
"Well... If I wasn't such a nice guy," Bjorn said with a cheerful smile. "Then it might make sense."
"Yeah. But the idea must be to be a nice guy all the time, and to everybody, not only to your colleagues."

The men reached Ante's car where they stopped and took a quick look a the village square before entering the vehicle.

"It's a nice thought, though," Bjorn concluded.
"Sure. But we're not a part of it. And it's silly to think otherwise."

152

"What was that all about?" Bjorn asked Ante immediately after leaving the pharmacy.
"What?"
"The heroin thing."
"Well, what do you think? I mean... heroin... And I could buy it just like that."
"Yeah?"
"Hey! Wouldn't that be cool?" Ante asked, making a sweeping gesture with his hands. "Have a bottle of heroin available, just in case."
"You were seriously considering buying it, weren't you?"
"Yeah, I was. Just, you know, to have it."

Bjorn shook his head.

"And take it with you up to the checkpoint?" Bjorn continued.
"Yeah, of course."
"That would have been kind of illegal, wouldn't it?"
"Yep, it would. Just like your cannabis oil," Ante retorted with a big smile.

Bjorn looked at Ante, suddenly realizing the obvious. He had just bought himself a bottle of contraband, and would have to smuggle it into his room on returning to the checkpoint.

"Gosh, I didn't think of that."
"You didn't did you?" Ante said, still smiling from ear to ear. "That David guy really convinced you, didn't he."
"But he said this is better, better than the synthetic alternative, that is."
"But even that would have been illegal," Ante continued. "I'm sure the alternative is a prescription drug, and you haven't been to a doctor, have you?"
"No, but..."
"But what?"

Bjorn had to think for a moment. He felt very confident that he had been well advised, and that the medicine he was carrying would at its worst be harmless, and at its best be quite effective. Yet, Ante was right. He was carrying contraband, and was technically speaking breaking Norwegian law.

"You're not going to tell anyone, are you?" Bjorn asked.
"No, of course not. But I have to say I find this whole thing amusing."
"You do?"
"Yeah. Here we are. Two representatives of the law, preparing to smuggle contraband into the checkpoint. It says quite a lot, doesn't it?"
"Like what?"

Ante looked over at the vicarage where a small line was forming with some truly miserable looking people.

"You didn't think of it being illegal when you bought it, did you?" Ante asked.
"No, I didn't," Bjorn confessed.
"And why was that, you think?"
"Well, David came across as pretty serious, didn't he?"
"Yeah?"

Bjorn didn't know what more to say, and being distracted by the sight of people in front of the vicarage, he stopped and changed the subject completely.

"They are lining up for soup, aren't they?" Bjorn asked.
"Looks like it, doesn't it," Ante confirmed with a nod.
"But they are not letting them in, are they?" Bjorn continued.

Then, before Ante could vent his opinion, the door of the vicarage opened, and out came Elisabeth and Aung, each with a small tray with Styrofoam cups, which they proceeded to hand out to the people who had gathered outside.

"Looks like they are keeping them at an arm's length," Ante commented.
"That's kind of condescending, isn't it?"
"It is," Ante agreed. "But to let them in... Would you?"
"Sure, why not? It's a big house. I mean... if they are serious about charity, shouldn't they?"
"And risk getting stuck with these people?"
"Well..."

Bjorn had to admit to himself that the sad looking group hardly was the kind of people he would have eagerly welcomed into his home. But a charity should operate differently, he felt, and was about to formulate this idea when Ante broke it off by pointing out that Bjorn was doing precisely nothing for the people over by the vicarage, and should for that reason be a little careful about criticizing the well doers.

"But..." Bjorn protested, still unable to articulate his objection.
"But what?"
"It's not the way we do it, is it? Like in the rest of Norway."
"It isn't?"
"No. I was unemployed for more than a year, and I never had to stand in any line."
"Ah... But what about those who can't even find their way to the unemployment office? You know... the really down and out people."
"The bums?"
"Yeah?"
"Well... I don't know."
"You never bothered to find out, did you?"
"Ah... no."
"But my sister who lives in Oslo works every now and again at a soup kitchen. And it's quite overwhelming at times, she says. And lately it's been getting much worse."
"Really?"
"Yep."
"And?"
"She says you just can't get too involved in these people, because they will drag you down. They really will. It's just too much. So you just have to put up a distance, a polite one for sure, but nevertheless a distance. And that's exactly what they are doing over there. It's the only way to run a charity. You have to keep a distance. You can't get involved in every little tragedy out there."

Ante started walking again.

"But if you do it right," Ante continued, getting Bjorn along with him. "You can keep it going for ever. And it can be very rewarding. Especially if you manage to do more than just feed them, but lift them out. Help them get a job. Get them back on their feet. That's what charity is all about in the end."
"Except for those who can never get a job, like cripples and retards," Bjorn commented.
"Yeah, but that's different. Those people over there are neither cripples nor retards. They may be depressed or hooked on drugs or whatnot. But they are not completely incapable of doing anything useful."

Bjorn still thought the whole thing condescending, almost to the point of being cruel. But he knew, despite his objections, that Ante was right. Things were no different in Oslo. And anyone crazy enough to open their home unconditionally to the needy would quickly find themselves completely drained both physically and emotionally.

"Unlimited generosity is a silly utopian idea," Ante commented, as if he had listened in on Bjorn's private thoughts. "It will quickly drain the life blood from anyone attempting it. And in the end, everyone will be worse off. The charity will be dead, and the recipients will have nowhere to go."

151

Bjorn felt immediately much better on leaving the restaurant.

"It was stuffy in there, wasn't it?" he commented.
"Not any worse than at the checkpoint," Ante replied.
"Well, I feel much better now," Bjorn continued, hoping to convince Ante to change his mind regarding David's pharmacy. "Let's go back to the checkpoint."
"And miss out on this little adventure?" Ante protested. "No way!"
"But..."
"I'm curious, and now I got the perfect excuse to nose around," Ante continued. "Come on, do it for me!"
"But it's just a pharmacy," Bjorn ventured.
"No. It's not just a pharmacy. It's a drug store. Those guys sell everything you could possible want. Aren't you curious about that?"
"And you want me to take advice from those guys?" Bjorn asked, stopping by the pathway leading up to the pharmacy from the road.
"Hey! What harm can come of it. It's not like you have to buy a bottle of heroin if that's what they prescribe."
"No. But what's the point? They can't possibly be serious. I mean... just look at that board. The sky is not the limit. What kind of an ad is that? And those guys are going to suggest something for my dizzy spell?"
"Well, Katinka said she trusts them."
"Yeah... she trusts Roger too. That makes her an expert, right?"

Ante looked at Bjorn and then back at the pharmacy.

"Come on!" he exclaimed, putting one foot forward in the direction of the store. "Let's check this place out."

And with all his counter arguments exhausted, Bjorn followed Ante up the pathway. Ante opened the door and ushered Bjorn in as a guest of honor, closing the door carefully behind them as they stepped into another converted living room, this one full of little racks displaying all sorts of medicines and pharmaceutical products.

A woman sat by a PC behind the counter, barely sparing them a glance as they stepped into the room. She was busy typing something, and for a moment Bjorn got the impression that she had no interest at all in helping them. He looked around, and saw that the place did indeed look like a pharmacy, and not like a dealer's den. But a rack to the back of the store had a board with the word "recreational" typed onto it. There was also one with the word "opiates" typed on to it. But the two racks were otherwise no different from those that were marked with words like "dental" and "skin care" and the like.

"How can I help you?" the woman behind the PC asked, having finished her typing.
"Well, we need something against dizziness," Ante said. "My friend here suffers from dizzy spells."
"Oh, is that so?" the woman replied. "I'm not sure what David would recommend for that. Wait here! I'll check with him."

Bjorn recognized the woman at once as Maria, the self proclaimed law expert, and he mentioned this to Ante the moment she disappeared into the back room.

"She's a lawyer?" Ante asked, intrigued.
"That's what she claims."
"In a place with no laws," Ante commented with a smile. "That must be tough."

But the two men had no time to reflect on Maria's seemingly impossible profession, as she soon returned with David who she presented to them as being her husband and store owner.

David was a little taller than Maria, but still a relatively short man, not even as tall as Ante. But what he lacked in stature, he made up for in his presence. There was something confidence inspiring about the man.

"Dizzy spells?" David asked rhetorically, looking at Bjorn.
"Yeah, well, I had one on Friday, and one just now."
"That's it?"
"Well, I was a little dizzy yesterday too."
"So you've just started having these spells?"
"Yeah."
"You're in the military I see."
"Yeah."
"And when did you have your latest check up."
"Oh... like a month ago. When I signed up for this job."
"And they didn't find anything wrong with you back then?"
"No, well, they said I could drop a few pounds. Maybe stop smoking."
"I see. And?"
"Well, I haven't given up on the smoke, and I haven't lost any weight, I don't think."

David looked at Bjorn with a critical eye.

"Anxiety?" David asked. "Ever feel claustrophobic or lost for no reason?"
"Eh, well... It happens."
"Nightmares?"
"Actually, yes. But I'm not very bothered."
"No?"
"No."

David went over to a rack next to the opiates where he picked up a small brown bottle with a thick liquid inside.

"This will help you stop smoking, and relieve some of that anxiety too," David said with a serious and confident look at Bjorn. "And it does relieve certain types of vertigo."
"What is it?" Bjorn asked.
"It's a cannabis oil that I've developed."
"Oh..." Bjorn replied, feeling suddenly uncomfortable. "I'd prefer something... ah... more pharmaceutical, if you will."
"Well, we have a synthetic alternative, but it is actually more dangerous, has more side effect. I prefer not giving that to people unless they specifically ask for it."
"Yeah?"
"No one ever died ingesting small quantities of cannabis. That's not the case for the synthetic alternative."
"The other one kills people?"
"It has been known to heighten blood pressure. And, well, that can be very dangerous."
"And this oil doesn't do that?"
"No."
"There's no side effects?"
"Apart from drowsiness, no. So you take one spoon of this in the evening, and you'll sleep like a baby."
"And the next morning?"
"You'll feel fine, and less of an urge to have a cigarette."
"Is that so?"
"Yeah."

Bjorn reached for the bottle which David was happy to let him hold.

"But I'm actually here for those dizzy spells," Bjorn said, looking at the viscous liquid through the dark glass.
"It may work, or maybe not. But I think your real problem is the cigarettes. And this will help you stop smoking."
"So if I stop smoking, the dizzy spells will pass."
"Probably, yes."
"And this will help me sleep better too."
"For sure."
"I won't get hooked, will I?" Bjorn asked.
"It's never a good idea to use a drug over time. But this is definitely not very addictive. This bottle will last you two weeks, and you should have no trouble quitting it right there."
"Unlike this," Ante commented from the side, holding a small bottle labeled "heroin" in his hand.

David gave Ante a tired look, clearly having been challenged about his drugs before.

"No, as I'm sure you know, that's very addictive," David explained. "But that's not what I'm recommending for your friend here, is it?"
"No, but you're actually selling this stuff?"
"Yes I do."
"Just like that?"
"What you mean?"
"Can I buy this bottle?" Ante asked.
"I wouldn't recommend it, but yeah."
"You're not going to stop me?"
"No. But I'm not pushing it either."
"But how about that sky is not the limit sign you got out on your front yard?"
"That's for the recreational drugs. What you got there is an opiate, and a very strong one at that."

Ante looked pleased with David's calm and down to earth explanations.

"So who is this for?" Ante asked.
"Well. It's meant for terminally ill people. People who are in a lot of pain. People like that don't care if they get hooked, since they are going to die anyway."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah, we have a few customers like that."
"Terminally ill people?"
"Yeah?"
"Really?"
"We even have a place for them to come and stay. But most people prefer to die at home."
"You got a hospital thing going on here?" Ante asked, impressed.
"Well, not in this house."
"Where?"
"That's a secret."
"Yeah? Why?"

David looked at Ante with a critical smile.

"Well, why do you think?"
"I don't know."
"You're turning up here in uniforms, and you expect me to tell you all my secrets? How stupid do you think I am?"
"Oh... I'm sorry," Ante replied, putting the heroin bottle back in its place. "But you would sell me this bottle if I insisted?"
"Yeah, sure. But why would you want to buy a bottle of heroin?"
"Just for the heck of it, maybe."
"Sure! Be my guest!"

Ante looked at the bottle as if he was seriously considering buying it. Then he looked over at Bjorn, still holding on to the cannabis oil.

"Ah... well... I'll have this one," Bjorn commented, sending Ante a stern look.
"Okay," David said with a nod. "That will be seventy five MG."

They walked over to the counter where Maria was once again focusing on her PC.

"Remember to shake it well before use," David commented while Bjorn fished out a handful of casino tokens from his trouser pocket, picking out the correct amount for Maria. She in turn grabbed a small plastic bag from under the counter, dropped the bottle into it and handed it back to Bjorn.

150

Ante signaled to Katinka that he was ready to pay by waving his debit card in the air, prompting her to come over with a terminal to take his payment.

"So, was everything to your liking?" she asked, handing the device over to Ante to let him type in his pin code.
"Oh yeah," Bjorn said with a smile. "And I really liked your little lecture on the ID chip thing. Very well presented, I must say."
"Well, thank you, I'm glad you liked it."

Ante handed the terminal back to Katinka who checked that all was in order before handing Ante his card back, together with the receipt.

"It's hard to believe you're able to make a living with these prices," Ante commented.
"Well, there's no taxes and no fees."
"Still... I'm sure you two have bills to pay like everyone else."
"Yes we do," Katinka answered with a smile reflecting her appreciation for Ante's implicit recognition of Katinka and Roger as a legitimate couple. "It's tough, but we get by."
"Don't you think you could raise the prices a bit without hurting your business?" Ante continued, pushing his chair back and readying himself to get up.
"Maybe... but we got Nora's Place to compete with, and they serve food at the casino too, and... well, you know. Even people form Kirkenes are feeling the pinch, with the crisis and all... And the Gram has appreciated quite a lot over the last few months."
"It has, hasn't it?" Ante commented, looking over at Bjorn. "Remember how upset Espen got on Friday when he had to pay more for his tokens?"
"Yeah, he got really angry, didn't he?" Bjorn confirmed.
"So, you see," Katinka concluded. "Upping our prices wouldn't sit well with our regular customers. And the appreciating Gram is actually making things a little cheaper for us. Things like flour and sugar and meat. It's all getting cheaper."
"In Grams," Ante noted.
"Yeah, but still. That's the money we use. So we are actually better off now than we were. And we keep getting more customers too."
"So, you're optimistic for the future?" Ante asked, finally getting up from his chair.

Bjorn rose from his chair too, but was immediately struck by a spell of dizziness, making him fall over to the side.

"Oh my!" Bjorn gasped clutching the table in front of him in order to keep himself from falling flat onto the floor, and he was immediately griped by a sense of intense embarrassment.

"You're all right there?" Katinka asked, clearly concerned about Bjorn's sudden dizzy spell.
"Yeah, yeah," Bjorn replied with a sheepish smile, continuing his hold on the table. "It's just a dizzy spell. That's all."
"You get this often?" Katinka asked, seeing that Bjorn was not letting go of the table.
"No, no..." Bjorn replied, noting with terror that the discomfort was lingering. "It'll soon pass."

But it did not pass for several long seconds, and even when the worst was over, Bjorn felt a lingering nausea.

"You look a little pale," Ante commented. "I'd have that checked if I were you."
"Yeah. Why don't you talk to David. He's good with this kind of things," Katinka suggested.
"David?" Bjorn asked confused.
"Yeah. He's practically a doctor. He knows his stuff."
"Really?"

Bjorn felt it a silly proposition. But Katinka was clearly serious, and when he looked over at Ante, it seemed that he too thought it a good idea.

"Just as a first quick check up," Ante noted. "What harm can come of it?"
"And it's free," Katinka added. "He's a serious guy. He knows his stuff."
"But... He's a drug dealer," Bjorn protested.
"No, no, no," Katinka protested. "He sells some stuff that's illegal in other places. But he's actually a very nice guy."
"Ah, well, I don't think we need to," Bjorn said, smiling bravely. "I'm better all ready."

Ante and Katinka looked at Bjorn quietly.

"You know, I'll hold your hand," Ante said with a patronizing smile. "It won't take long. And you know... I'm rather curious about the place myself. Let's have a look at it!"

Bjorn straightened up and pulled his jacket on. Then he collected the token's he had spread out on the table, leaving a ten MG token for Katinka.

"Okay. Let's go!" he said. Then, thanking Katinka for an excellent meal, he joined Ante out into the cold but sunny weather.

149

Katinka returned with two mugs and a pot of coffee. She put the mugs on the table and poured the hot brew into them. The men thanked her. Then she went back to the kitchen before reappearing moments later, sitting down on a stool behind the bar, and picking up a book that she had evidently left there for moments like this, with little or nothing to do.

There was something relaxing and pleasant about her person, almost serene, and Bjorn could not help thinking that Roger might actually have been right about himself and Katinka. The age separating the two was great, indecent even, but Katinka looked content, as if fully confident in Roger's ability to protect her from any kind of harm, and her initial worry, and subsequent interrogation by Ante, had left no lasting impression on her. She looked happy.

"So, they got their gun store over there, and their drug store over here," Ante said, breaking Bjorn's train of thought, and moving his attention from Katinka to the street outside.
"Yeah?" Bjorn asked, resting his eyes on a car moving slowly past in the direction of Gus' gun store.
"Well, what do you think about that?" Ante continued, sipping his coffee. "You get your gun over there, and then stack up on some psychedelic drugs over there, and you're all set for a shooting spree."
"But you're the one thinking that's cool," Bjorn noted coldly. "You know what I think about it."
"Yeah. You find it a little crazy, don't you?"
"A little? Well, I think it's insane. That's what I think of it."
"You wouldn't last long if you tried something like that here in Lundby, though," Ante continued. "Everybody has a gun, and you'd quickly find yourself dead if you started shooting wildly around you."
"Still. It's just not a very good idea to combine these things, is it?"
"But you know Anders..."
"The mass murderer?"
"Yeah," Ante said with a thoughtful look across the street where a young man entered the drug store. "He had no trouble getting the guns and the drugs that he took just before going on his murderous rampage. And that was in Oslo where they got rules against that kind of thing."
"Still... There wouldn't have been anything at all stopping him up here."
"Except for pretty much the entire village shooting back at him," Ante noted with a cheeky smile.

Bjorn couldn't help thinking that Ante had a point. Yet, the tragedy in Oslo was different, and a rather extreme example, he felt. He wasn't buying Ante's argument, but had no ready counter argument either.

"You know, he just started his own party," Ante continued.
"Anders?"
"Yeah. Didn't you hear about that?"
"Well... yeah. But are anyone taking it seriously. I mean, the man is mad, right?"
"He got a few thousand followers on Facebook."
"He does?"
"Yep. A few thousand. I think that's saying quite a lot, don't you?"
"Like what?"
"About people and politics."
"Yeah?"
"And the foreign minister is as popular as ever," Ante continued. "You know... far more people were killed in Libya on his orders than Anders managed to kill out on that island."
"Yeah, but come on... You're not comparing the foreign minister with Anders, are you?"
"Sure, why not? They both illustrate the same point."
"They do?"
"Killing people will actually make you more popular, not less."
"But..."
"Yeah?"
"It's a stupid comparison."
"Why?"
"Well, the foreign minister and Anders? Come on! Anders killed those kids in cold blood."
"And the kids in Libya?"
"Kids in Libya?" Bjorn protested. "We were bombing military targets. If we killed any kids, it was by accident. That's a huge difference right there."
"But killing people does make you more popular," Ante continued undeterred. "That's all I'm saying."
"Well... okay... you're probably right about that."
"And that's kind of sad, sin't it."