Bjorn was reluctant to leave his PC with Geir. But what could he do? Frank had in a sense taken over control of it, and ordered it used by Geir. Bjorn could not very well take it with him without first talking it over with Frank.
Bjorn left the glass cage feeling very uncomfortable with the whole situation. Then, as he spotted Frank up the road where Gus and his men were setting up a larger sign board, he figured he had to tell Frank how Geir had misbehaved, so in stead of heading back into the barracks, Bjorn proceeded up the road in the direction of Neiden.
Snow was melting on both sides of the road, but the tarmac was dry with the exception of the occasional trickle of water from one side of the road to the other. The tepid heat of the sun warmed his back pleasurably, and he felt strangely excited by the fact that he was walking up a stretch of road that he had never walked before.
"It's not a bad life at all, is it?" Bjorn thought to himself as he looked around at the great expanse of snow, poked through by rocks and bare knolls, recently freed from the white blanket of winter.
"Come and have a look at this," Frank said in a loud voice before Bjorn had come close enough to vent his frustration with Geir. "You got to see this! This is great."
Bjorn went up to Frank, turned around, and looked at the sign with its instruction to the drivers entering the colony from Neiden. "Passports required on entering," it read. "24 hour rule applies for tax free quotas purchased in the colony. Minors may only enter together with legal guardian."
"Well... Minors can't drive cars," Bjorn commented, thinking the last sentence a little superfluous.
"Sure, but they can hike, or take the bus," Frank countered. "There have been quite a few cases of kids getting into the colony without their guardians' consent over the last few months."
"Is that so?" Bjorn asked, feigning ignorance.
"Yep. The child protection service even had to close down its orphanage in Kirkenes and move to Alta. And even then, there have been escapes."
"Really?"
"It's a big problem. It's not something the media talks about, of course, but truth is that this colony is starting to be a lot of trouble, and I'm afraid it's our job to contain it and keep things from getting too much out of control."
Bjorn nodded thoughtfully.
"I caught Geir snooping around on my PC," Bjorn said, changing the topic of conversation to his more immediate concern.
"Really?"
"Yeah! And I'm not at all happy with him using it. I wasn't happy to start with, and I'm even less happy with this now."
Frank looked at Bjorn. "So how did you find out about this?" he asked.
"I got a message on my mobile. He was trying to change my profile."
"On your PC?"
"No. On a website where I have an account."
"Really?"
"Yeah."
"That's not like him, is it? Why would he do that?"
"I don't know. But he did it, and it is my PC. I just don't want him to use it."
"You want me to talk to Geir?"
"No, no..." Bjorn answered immediately, feeling suddenly uncomfortable with the way the conversation was going. Just the thought of having Geir and Frank discuss Bjorn's profile on the Blacklist was enough to make his cringe. "I just want you to know that I'm not happy with the situation."
"Okay," Frank said, turning his attention back to Gus and his helpers. "That looks absolutely fantastic, guys!" he said with genuine enthusiasm. "Let's set up the other ones too."
Then, as Gus and his men put away their tools in the back of their truck, a car could be seen pulling up to the glass cage, down the road.
"That looks like Igor's car," Frank noted. "Let's go down and see if he brought any post with him. If we're lucky, he might have the scanner. And then your problem will be solved."
"Igor brings the post with him?" Bjorn asked.
"Yeah, once or twice a week," Frank explained.
Frank turned back to Gus and asked him if he was all right with setting up the rest of the signs on his own. Gus responded by reiterating what Frank must have told him earlier, and it was clear that Frank's help was no longer needed.
"Let's see what Igor might have brought with him today," Frank said. Then the two men headed down towards the barracks where Igor had swooped in with his van and started to offload his cargo.
Showing posts with label child protection. Show all posts
Showing posts with label child protection. Show all posts
Friday, February 27, 2015
Friday, February 6, 2015
176
Bjorn had just sat down in his chair when he became aware of a car coming down from Neiden. Every time the car made a turn, the headlights flickered in the big mirror hanging outside the office. Bjorn watch the car as it came down the windy road, disappearing behind rocks and hills, reappearing a little later, and then disappearing again, off and on until it finally arrived at the checkpoint.
"Passport!" Bjorn said in a formal voice. Then he proceeded to tell the driver about the new rules before typing in the number found in the passport handed over to him. Bjorn hit return, and up came a copy of the passport he was holding in his hand, complete with a green banner telling him that all was clear.
"So I better stock up on things today, while it's still legal?" the driver asked rhetorically.
"That's right!" Bjorn answered with a friendly smile, handing the passport back to the driver. Then he pushed the green button to raise the barrier.
Bjorn followed the car with his eyes as it wound its way downhill until it disappeared behind the hill to the north east, and he was again left to his own thoughts. He looked at his PC. Then he pulled up a second tab on his browser. "I wonder what the Lundby Blacklist has to say about Einar," Bjorn thought, finding the web address in his browser history. "Somehow I doubt they have anything on the man." And sure enough, the Blacklist used by the citizens of Lundby did not contain any mention of Einar.
Bjorn typed in Katinka's name. Nothing. Then he typed in Roger's name: also nothing. "How about David?" Bjorn wondered. He typed in his name, and got nothing. "But he's married to that Maria woman. That's probably worth something," Bjorn thought while idly typing in Cecilie's name for a final search. Bjorn hit return, and to his surprise, he got up Cecilie's profile. However, it was the same page he had seen earlier so his surprise soon passed. She was, as Bjorn already knew, listed as plaintiff in the case against the head of the child protection service in Alta. There were no charges against Cecilie. No one had charged her of anything.
Bjorn looked at the woman's profile. "So, which is it?" he wondered. "Is she dangerous and a criminal, or not?" He thought back to the episode in the church where Cecilie had come with her daughter, all done up and pretty. It did not look like anything was amiss. And they sat down with Ane and Ola. Why would Ane and Ola be involved with this woman if she was dangerous?
On the other hand, why would the child protecting service want to interfere if nothing was amiss? That made no sense either. Bjorn stared at the computer screen, trying to make sense of the situation. But the pieces simply did not fit together. He was missing something, some important fact that would solve the puzzle. Then he became aware of the status field associated with Cecilie's complaint. The case was on hold. It was not new, not active, nor resolved. It was on hold, and curious to know why, Bjorn clicked on it.
Up came the details of the complaint with its long list of plaintiffs. Bjorn clicked on the name of the defendant. However, all he got was her summary page. The woman was either ignorant of this case, or more likely, ignoring it as a crank thing with no legitimacy. Either way, she did not have a profile on the Blacklist.
Bjorn returned to the complaint. Then he scrolled down to the comment section, the last comment being posted by Maria. "Again, and I repeat myself," it read. "Just like following orders is no defense, giving orders is no crime. Unless you can show hard evidence that this woman has acted and aggressed personally against you and your children, you have no case. Please go to my defense of the foreign minister for a complete explanation."
"Passport!" Bjorn said in a formal voice. Then he proceeded to tell the driver about the new rules before typing in the number found in the passport handed over to him. Bjorn hit return, and up came a copy of the passport he was holding in his hand, complete with a green banner telling him that all was clear.
"So I better stock up on things today, while it's still legal?" the driver asked rhetorically.
"That's right!" Bjorn answered with a friendly smile, handing the passport back to the driver. Then he pushed the green button to raise the barrier.
Bjorn followed the car with his eyes as it wound its way downhill until it disappeared behind the hill to the north east, and he was again left to his own thoughts. He looked at his PC. Then he pulled up a second tab on his browser. "I wonder what the Lundby Blacklist has to say about Einar," Bjorn thought, finding the web address in his browser history. "Somehow I doubt they have anything on the man." And sure enough, the Blacklist used by the citizens of Lundby did not contain any mention of Einar.
Bjorn typed in Katinka's name. Nothing. Then he typed in Roger's name: also nothing. "How about David?" Bjorn wondered. He typed in his name, and got nothing. "But he's married to that Maria woman. That's probably worth something," Bjorn thought while idly typing in Cecilie's name for a final search. Bjorn hit return, and to his surprise, he got up Cecilie's profile. However, it was the same page he had seen earlier so his surprise soon passed. She was, as Bjorn already knew, listed as plaintiff in the case against the head of the child protection service in Alta. There were no charges against Cecilie. No one had charged her of anything.
Bjorn looked at the woman's profile. "So, which is it?" he wondered. "Is she dangerous and a criminal, or not?" He thought back to the episode in the church where Cecilie had come with her daughter, all done up and pretty. It did not look like anything was amiss. And they sat down with Ane and Ola. Why would Ane and Ola be involved with this woman if she was dangerous?
On the other hand, why would the child protecting service want to interfere if nothing was amiss? That made no sense either. Bjorn stared at the computer screen, trying to make sense of the situation. But the pieces simply did not fit together. He was missing something, some important fact that would solve the puzzle. Then he became aware of the status field associated with Cecilie's complaint. The case was on hold. It was not new, not active, nor resolved. It was on hold, and curious to know why, Bjorn clicked on it.
Up came the details of the complaint with its long list of plaintiffs. Bjorn clicked on the name of the defendant. However, all he got was her summary page. The woman was either ignorant of this case, or more likely, ignoring it as a crank thing with no legitimacy. Either way, she did not have a profile on the Blacklist.
Bjorn returned to the complaint. Then he scrolled down to the comment section, the last comment being posted by Maria. "Again, and I repeat myself," it read. "Just like following orders is no defense, giving orders is no crime. Unless you can show hard evidence that this woman has acted and aggressed personally against you and your children, you have no case. Please go to my defense of the foreign minister for a complete explanation."
Monday, February 2, 2015
173
Still feeling uncomfortable about the things said during breakfast, Bjorn appeared at the glass cage with his PC and charger tucked under his arm, a thermos with black coffee in one hand, and an ham sandwich in the other. He excused himself for being late to John, briefly mentioning the new instructions and Frank's insistence on everybody following the new rules.
"He'll go through all the details with you and Geir later today, I'm sure," Bjorn continued, dropping off his things on the ledge by the window.
John handed the automatic pistol that was hanging across his abdomen over to Bjorn. "Okay, put this on, will you," he replied, eager as always to get out of the cage and back to the barracks. And as soon as Bjorn had tossed the belt of the gun over his shoulder, John was out of the office and heading quickly back to his other colleagues.
The gun felt clunky and uncomfortable, but he quickly go used to it. Sitting down, the gun rested across his lap where it did not get in the way of his movements. Bjorn plugged the power supply of his PC into a free socket by the door, and put the laptop itself on the narrow shelf-like desk in front of him. He turned it on, and knowing that it would take a few seconds before he could use it, he looked out at the view in front of him.
The sun was shining, and the view was as stunning as always. The great landscape, so indifferent and peaceful, was soothing to watch. "There are no rules or regulations out there," Bjorn thought to himself. "Nothing complicated to keep in mind. Just the natural order of things, intuitively known by all beings." Bjorn heaved a great sigh, and was about to return his attention to his PC when he spotted a small gray ship over by the narrow strait to Kirkenes.
Bjorn picked up the binoculars to take a closer look. "It must be the coastguard," he thought to himself. And he was right. The coastguard had already taken up its position by the straight to make sure no one could enter or leave the colony by boat without proper documentation. The ship, with its small artillery gun at its bow, looked uncomfortably menacing, and Bjorn was again struck by a sense that things were getting out of control. The sight of the ship should have given him a feeling of control and order. However, much to Bjorn's own surprise, he was feeling quite the opposite. Watching the gunboat float almost motionless at the mouth of the narrows, he could not help thinking of it as a predator laying in wait for its pray.
Bjorn put the binoculars down, and was about to return his attention once more to his PC when a car, coming down from Neiden, pulled up next to the glass cage. He recognized the driver immediately as the man who had offered him a pack of cigarettes the other day.
Bjorn opened the window. "Your passport please," he said, pretending not to know the man.
"Ah! But you know me. We're friends, remember?" the man said with a broad smile.
"Sure. But I still need your passport. And you have to stop taking so much stuff with you out of the colony."
"Really? Why?"
"New rules. Effective from tomorrow. Lundby will be treated like an airport. You can't take with you as much as you please. And you'll have to be down there for at least 24 hours to get your quota."
"No exceptions?"
"No exceptions."
The man handed over his passport, and for a moment Bjorn did not know what to do with it. He had not logged into the web site yet, so he had nowhere to register the passport number. However, he soon found a pencil and a scrap of paper to note it down for later. He would punch the number into the database as soon as he was logged in.
"We'll be registering everybody going in and coming out of the colony," Bjorn explained. "So there's no way around this, now."
"Not even between friends?" the man asked cheekily.
"Like I said. No exceptions."
"But today is still all right?"
"Yep. Today is your last day of freedom," Bjorn said, handing the passport back to the man.
"My last day of freedom, aye?" The man said with a cheeky smile.
Bjorn had no idea why he had used the word freedom as he did. It was silly of him. And having nothing more to say, he closed his window and opened the barrier for the driver without saying anything, ignoring the man as he sent Bjorn a friendly wave of his hand before heading into the colony.
The car drove swiftly down the curvy road, and soon disappeared behind the hill to the right, leaving Bjorn once more to himself. He returned his focus to his PC, pulled up his favorite browser, and proceeded to punch in the web address given to him by Frank.
The web site was hosted by the department of justice, and once he was logged into it, Bjorn had no trouble finding the right place to type in the passport number he had scratched down. And the response was pretty much immediate. A copy of the man's passport was presented on his screen, complete with a little comment in a yellow banner at the top of the page. "Warning:" it read. "3 past convictions. Smuggling (2 counts), Possession of narcotics (1 count)."
Bjorn thought for a second that he had made a mistake in letting the man into the colony, but once he clicked on the warning, he found to his relief that he had done nothing wrong. A pop up explained that yellow warnings were simply helpful remarks. Then, clicking on a link for further help, Bjorn learned that the web site operated with three different banners. Green banners were all clear signs. Yellow banners were warning signs, and red banners were immediate action signs. Typical action on a red banner would be either denial of entry or arrest.
Bjorn clicked on the phrase denial of entry, curious to learn more, and found himself immediately presented with a searchable database. It was the blacklist that Frank had mentioned. He had several fields he could use to search. And he could even browse if he so wished. One field was fixed, though. He could not change his own location from being Lundby. The database was in other words set up to give different results depending on location, and the only location Bjorn was allowed to browse was Lundby.
Bjorn did not immediately know of anyone he would like to check. But then, remembering the nervous looking woman and her daughter that he had let in the other day, Bjorn chose to try out the database by typing in the woman's name. He typed in Cecilie's full name, hit return, and was immediately presented with a copy of her passport. It had a red banner. "Warning:" it read. "Immediate arrest on charges of: Kidnapping (1 count), Assault (1 count), Harassment (5 counts)."
"He'll go through all the details with you and Geir later today, I'm sure," Bjorn continued, dropping off his things on the ledge by the window.
John handed the automatic pistol that was hanging across his abdomen over to Bjorn. "Okay, put this on, will you," he replied, eager as always to get out of the cage and back to the barracks. And as soon as Bjorn had tossed the belt of the gun over his shoulder, John was out of the office and heading quickly back to his other colleagues.
The gun felt clunky and uncomfortable, but he quickly go used to it. Sitting down, the gun rested across his lap where it did not get in the way of his movements. Bjorn plugged the power supply of his PC into a free socket by the door, and put the laptop itself on the narrow shelf-like desk in front of him. He turned it on, and knowing that it would take a few seconds before he could use it, he looked out at the view in front of him.
The sun was shining, and the view was as stunning as always. The great landscape, so indifferent and peaceful, was soothing to watch. "There are no rules or regulations out there," Bjorn thought to himself. "Nothing complicated to keep in mind. Just the natural order of things, intuitively known by all beings." Bjorn heaved a great sigh, and was about to return his attention to his PC when he spotted a small gray ship over by the narrow strait to Kirkenes.
Bjorn picked up the binoculars to take a closer look. "It must be the coastguard," he thought to himself. And he was right. The coastguard had already taken up its position by the straight to make sure no one could enter or leave the colony by boat without proper documentation. The ship, with its small artillery gun at its bow, looked uncomfortably menacing, and Bjorn was again struck by a sense that things were getting out of control. The sight of the ship should have given him a feeling of control and order. However, much to Bjorn's own surprise, he was feeling quite the opposite. Watching the gunboat float almost motionless at the mouth of the narrows, he could not help thinking of it as a predator laying in wait for its pray.
Bjorn put the binoculars down, and was about to return his attention once more to his PC when a car, coming down from Neiden, pulled up next to the glass cage. He recognized the driver immediately as the man who had offered him a pack of cigarettes the other day.
Bjorn opened the window. "Your passport please," he said, pretending not to know the man.
"Ah! But you know me. We're friends, remember?" the man said with a broad smile.
"Sure. But I still need your passport. And you have to stop taking so much stuff with you out of the colony."
"Really? Why?"
"New rules. Effective from tomorrow. Lundby will be treated like an airport. You can't take with you as much as you please. And you'll have to be down there for at least 24 hours to get your quota."
"No exceptions?"
"No exceptions."
The man handed over his passport, and for a moment Bjorn did not know what to do with it. He had not logged into the web site yet, so he had nowhere to register the passport number. However, he soon found a pencil and a scrap of paper to note it down for later. He would punch the number into the database as soon as he was logged in.
"We'll be registering everybody going in and coming out of the colony," Bjorn explained. "So there's no way around this, now."
"Not even between friends?" the man asked cheekily.
"Like I said. No exceptions."
"But today is still all right?"
"Yep. Today is your last day of freedom," Bjorn said, handing the passport back to the man.
"My last day of freedom, aye?" The man said with a cheeky smile.
Bjorn had no idea why he had used the word freedom as he did. It was silly of him. And having nothing more to say, he closed his window and opened the barrier for the driver without saying anything, ignoring the man as he sent Bjorn a friendly wave of his hand before heading into the colony.
The car drove swiftly down the curvy road, and soon disappeared behind the hill to the right, leaving Bjorn once more to himself. He returned his focus to his PC, pulled up his favorite browser, and proceeded to punch in the web address given to him by Frank.
The web site was hosted by the department of justice, and once he was logged into it, Bjorn had no trouble finding the right place to type in the passport number he had scratched down. And the response was pretty much immediate. A copy of the man's passport was presented on his screen, complete with a little comment in a yellow banner at the top of the page. "Warning:" it read. "3 past convictions. Smuggling (2 counts), Possession of narcotics (1 count)."
Bjorn thought for a second that he had made a mistake in letting the man into the colony, but once he clicked on the warning, he found to his relief that he had done nothing wrong. A pop up explained that yellow warnings were simply helpful remarks. Then, clicking on a link for further help, Bjorn learned that the web site operated with three different banners. Green banners were all clear signs. Yellow banners were warning signs, and red banners were immediate action signs. Typical action on a red banner would be either denial of entry or arrest.
Bjorn clicked on the phrase denial of entry, curious to learn more, and found himself immediately presented with a searchable database. It was the blacklist that Frank had mentioned. He had several fields he could use to search. And he could even browse if he so wished. One field was fixed, though. He could not change his own location from being Lundby. The database was in other words set up to give different results depending on location, and the only location Bjorn was allowed to browse was Lundby.
Bjorn did not immediately know of anyone he would like to check. But then, remembering the nervous looking woman and her daughter that he had let in the other day, Bjorn chose to try out the database by typing in the woman's name. He typed in Cecilie's full name, hit return, and was immediately presented with a copy of her passport. It had a red banner. "Warning:" it read. "Immediate arrest on charges of: Kidnapping (1 count), Assault (1 count), Harassment (5 counts)."
Wednesday, December 10, 2014
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."
"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."
Tuesday, December 9, 2014
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."
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."
Wednesday, November 12, 2014
147
"Why did you do that?" Bjorn asked, following Katinka with his eyes as she headed for the kitchen. "Poor girl. What came over you?"
"Well, I was curious," Ante replied sheepishly.
"But you know how rude that was, don't you?"
"Ah... Well..."
"Would you have asked that kind of questions if she was a grown woman?"
Ante did not answer right away, taking instead another piece of pizza.
"But she isn't, is she?" Ante said defiantly. "She's not even seventeen. You know what that makes Roger. Well... it makes him a pervert. That's what it makes him."
But just as Ante said this, Roger appeared in the door of the kitchen, looking straight at the two men.
"Oh my," Bjorn muttered. "Look what you've done."
"Ups."
"So, what you gonna do now?" Bjorn whispered, following Roger with his eyes as he descended on their table.
"Me? Well..."
"If you two could treat Katinka with a little respect, that would be fine," Roger said as he neared the table.
"Respect?" Ante asked, pretending to be clueless.
"Yeah, you know. A little courtesy never hurt anyone."
"No?"
"But people have been known to regret their disrespect for other people."
"Disrespect?"
"Are you a little hard of hearing or what?"
"Me?"
"Yeah, you."
Ante looked over at Bjorn, begging for help.
"You know... I'm sorry," Bjorn ventured.
"You're sorry?" Roger asked. "And how about your buddy over here. Is he sorry too? After all, he's the twit, not you."
"I... I'm sorry," Ante said. "I was just..."
"You were just?"
"Well..."
"She's an orphan, all right?" Roger explained. "She doesn't need you to make herself feel less for it."
"But..."
"But what?"
"I wasn't criticizing her for being an orphan."
"No?"
Ante looked again over at Bjorn for help.
"Well... eh... I guess we did in a way... unintentionally," Bjorn said, trying desperately to find a way to avoid the real issue. "You know... without knowing it."
"Yeah?"
"Well... you know the Guardian Angels?" Bjorn continued, spinning his story as fast as he could.
"The TV show?"
"Yeah..."
"It's tripe. What about it?"
"Ah... well... we kind of like it, don't we, Ante?" Bjorn said, now looking to Ante for help.
"Yes we do. We think they are great!" Ante continued. "Love the way they take care of the kids, you know... Real heroes! But... well... I guess you two see it differently?"
"Yeah we do," Roger said with a serious frown. "It's a bunch of self serving crap."
"Oh, but they save the children. I mean... what would happen to those poor little kiddies if it wasn't for them?" Ante continued, a little too enthusiastically for Bjorn's taste.
"You have no idea what you're talking about, do you?" Roger said with disgust.
"Well... but seriously... who would take care of the kiddies?"
"Good people," Roger answered. "Like me and Elisabeth, and you know... There's no shortage of good people in the world. We don't need a bunch of evil psychopaths to run these things."
"Eh... good people like you?" Ante asked, unable to contain his curiosity.
"Yeah. I'm taking care of Katinka. You got a problem with that?"
"Eh... no..." Ante answered, pretending not to care.
"Good... So, is that all then?" Roger asked, changing his focus to the pizza pieces still left on the serving tray. "You're still working on that, are you?"
"Yeah, we're still eating," Bjorn answered.
"Okay. And go a little easy on Katinka, will you?" Roger continued in conclusion, turning back to the kitchen before the two men could answer.
"Well, I was curious," Ante replied sheepishly.
"But you know how rude that was, don't you?"
"Ah... Well..."
"Would you have asked that kind of questions if she was a grown woman?"
Ante did not answer right away, taking instead another piece of pizza.
"But she isn't, is she?" Ante said defiantly. "She's not even seventeen. You know what that makes Roger. Well... it makes him a pervert. That's what it makes him."
But just as Ante said this, Roger appeared in the door of the kitchen, looking straight at the two men.
"Oh my," Bjorn muttered. "Look what you've done."
"Ups."
"So, what you gonna do now?" Bjorn whispered, following Roger with his eyes as he descended on their table.
"Me? Well..."
"If you two could treat Katinka with a little respect, that would be fine," Roger said as he neared the table.
"Respect?" Ante asked, pretending to be clueless.
"Yeah, you know. A little courtesy never hurt anyone."
"No?"
"But people have been known to regret their disrespect for other people."
"Disrespect?"
"Are you a little hard of hearing or what?"
"Me?"
"Yeah, you."
Ante looked over at Bjorn, begging for help.
"You know... I'm sorry," Bjorn ventured.
"You're sorry?" Roger asked. "And how about your buddy over here. Is he sorry too? After all, he's the twit, not you."
"I... I'm sorry," Ante said. "I was just..."
"You were just?"
"Well..."
"She's an orphan, all right?" Roger explained. "She doesn't need you to make herself feel less for it."
"But..."
"But what?"
"I wasn't criticizing her for being an orphan."
"No?"
Ante looked again over at Bjorn for help.
"Well... eh... I guess we did in a way... unintentionally," Bjorn said, trying desperately to find a way to avoid the real issue. "You know... without knowing it."
"Yeah?"
"Well... you know the Guardian Angels?" Bjorn continued, spinning his story as fast as he could.
"The TV show?"
"Yeah..."
"It's tripe. What about it?"
"Ah... well... we kind of like it, don't we, Ante?" Bjorn said, now looking to Ante for help.
"Yes we do. We think they are great!" Ante continued. "Love the way they take care of the kids, you know... Real heroes! But... well... I guess you two see it differently?"
"Yeah we do," Roger said with a serious frown. "It's a bunch of self serving crap."
"Oh, but they save the children. I mean... what would happen to those poor little kiddies if it wasn't for them?" Ante continued, a little too enthusiastically for Bjorn's taste.
"You have no idea what you're talking about, do you?" Roger said with disgust.
"Well... but seriously... who would take care of the kiddies?"
"Good people," Roger answered. "Like me and Elisabeth, and you know... There's no shortage of good people in the world. We don't need a bunch of evil psychopaths to run these things."
"Eh... good people like you?" Ante asked, unable to contain his curiosity.
"Yeah. I'm taking care of Katinka. You got a problem with that?"
"Eh... no..." Ante answered, pretending not to care.
"Good... So, is that all then?" Roger asked, changing his focus to the pizza pieces still left on the serving tray. "You're still working on that, are you?"
"Yeah, we're still eating," Bjorn answered.
"Okay. And go a little easy on Katinka, will you?" Roger continued in conclusion, turning back to the kitchen before the two men could answer.
146
"Okay, I'll have water," Ante commented, nodding in Katinka's direction to signal that Bjorn was right. Katinka on her side got the message, and returned moments later from the kitchen with a pitcher of water and two glasses which she put on the table.
"Will that be all?" Katinka asked, looking first at Ante and then at Bjorn. "How about another beer for you?"
"No thank you," Bjorn replied. "I'm fine. I'll go over to water, just like my friend here."
"Okay."
Then, just as Katinka was about to leave the men alone again, Ante asked her if she happened to know Einar.
"Einar, the carpenter?" Katinka asked.
"Yeah, well, the carpenter apprentice."
"Sure. He's half the reason I'm here."
"Really?" Ante asked delighted. "You're like good friends, the two of you?"
"No, not really. But... well... he sort of discovered this place for us."
"Einar discovered Lundby?"
"Kind of."
Ante looked blankly at Katinka, expecting some explanation.
"He was the first one to run away," Katinka explained.
"And?"
"Well, once we saw that no one went after him, we thought that we could do the same. He kept updating his Facebook page with stuff he was doing, and it looked really cool."
"Like what."
"Like working for those Italians, and living on his own, and stuff like that."
"So you're like Facebook friends, are you?"
"Yeah, that too. But we were at the same... well... jail, you know."
"Correctional facility. Isn't that the right word?"
"Yeah... But you know, it's a jail. That's what it is."
"So you've killed someone too?" Ante asked cheekily.
"No, no. I kept running away from my foster parents, and... well... they ended up giving up on me and sent me up here where there wasn't anywhere I could run away to."
"Until this whole Lundby thing," Ante suggested.
"Exactly."
"So, by now that jail must be empty, or what?" Ante asked, fascinated by Katinka's story.
"Well, they shut it down. That's the last thing I heard."
"Really?"
"Yeah. They moved everyone to Alta. But even that is not far enough away from Lundby."
"Is that so?"
"Yeah. People keep finding their way to this place. It's more difficult, but it still happens."
Bjorn was as fascinated as Ante, and could not help being reminded of the TV program about the Guardian Angels.
"So, you're not a big fan of the child protection services, are you?" Bjorn asked.
"No, not at all."
"But some kids really need help, right?"
"Sure! I was abandoned as a kid. So yeah..."
"And yet you're against them. That doesn't make any sense, does it?"
"Well... I just didn't like my foster parents. That's all."
Bjorn felt that they had been holding on to Katinka quite enough, and stopped asking questions. But Ante was evidently not completely satisfied.
"You heard about that murder in Asker?" he asked quite shamelessly. "At that institution."
"Yes. What about it?"
"Nah, I was just wondering what you make of it."
"Well, she was mad, wasn't she?"
"And what about Einar? Is he mad too?"
"Oh... I see what you mean. No, he's not mad. Just a little aggressive at times."
"A little?"
"It was an accident. I'm quite sure of it."
"That's what he keeps saying."
"You're not going to arrest him, are you?"
"No, no. But we had the pleasure of meeting him. He seems like a nice guy."
"And he is."
"So you're one of those camping out down at the new apartment building, together with Einar?" Ante asked, paying no attention to Katinka's growing impatience with his inquiry.
"No. I'm not. I live here. But it's really none of your business, is it?"
"No. I'm sorry," Ante replied, finally getting the message that his inquiry was less than pleasant for the young girl. But unable to restrain his curiosity he pushed on anyway. "So you live here alone?" he asked.
"No. I live here with Roger."
"The chef?"
"Yeah."
"He's not your boyfriend is he?" Ante asked, concerned.
"Well... Actually he is," Kartinka answered, straightening up a notch to look more mature.
"Oh my!" Ante exclaimed. "But he could be your father. How old are you?"
Katinka hesitated a moment.
"I'm seventeen," she said, convincing neither Bjorn nor Ante. Then she turned and headed straight for the kitchen, clearly upset by Ante's intrusive questioning.
"Will that be all?" Katinka asked, looking first at Ante and then at Bjorn. "How about another beer for you?"
"No thank you," Bjorn replied. "I'm fine. I'll go over to water, just like my friend here."
"Okay."
Then, just as Katinka was about to leave the men alone again, Ante asked her if she happened to know Einar.
"Einar, the carpenter?" Katinka asked.
"Yeah, well, the carpenter apprentice."
"Sure. He's half the reason I'm here."
"Really?" Ante asked delighted. "You're like good friends, the two of you?"
"No, not really. But... well... he sort of discovered this place for us."
"Einar discovered Lundby?"
"Kind of."
Ante looked blankly at Katinka, expecting some explanation.
"He was the first one to run away," Katinka explained.
"And?"
"Well, once we saw that no one went after him, we thought that we could do the same. He kept updating his Facebook page with stuff he was doing, and it looked really cool."
"Like what."
"Like working for those Italians, and living on his own, and stuff like that."
"So you're like Facebook friends, are you?"
"Yeah, that too. But we were at the same... well... jail, you know."
"Correctional facility. Isn't that the right word?"
"Yeah... But you know, it's a jail. That's what it is."
"So you've killed someone too?" Ante asked cheekily.
"No, no. I kept running away from my foster parents, and... well... they ended up giving up on me and sent me up here where there wasn't anywhere I could run away to."
"Until this whole Lundby thing," Ante suggested.
"Exactly."
"So, by now that jail must be empty, or what?" Ante asked, fascinated by Katinka's story.
"Well, they shut it down. That's the last thing I heard."
"Really?"
"Yeah. They moved everyone to Alta. But even that is not far enough away from Lundby."
"Is that so?"
"Yeah. People keep finding their way to this place. It's more difficult, but it still happens."
Bjorn was as fascinated as Ante, and could not help being reminded of the TV program about the Guardian Angels.
"So, you're not a big fan of the child protection services, are you?" Bjorn asked.
"No, not at all."
"But some kids really need help, right?"
"Sure! I was abandoned as a kid. So yeah..."
"And yet you're against them. That doesn't make any sense, does it?"
"Well... I just didn't like my foster parents. That's all."
Bjorn felt that they had been holding on to Katinka quite enough, and stopped asking questions. But Ante was evidently not completely satisfied.
"You heard about that murder in Asker?" he asked quite shamelessly. "At that institution."
"Yes. What about it?"
"Nah, I was just wondering what you make of it."
"Well, she was mad, wasn't she?"
"And what about Einar? Is he mad too?"
"Oh... I see what you mean. No, he's not mad. Just a little aggressive at times."
"A little?"
"It was an accident. I'm quite sure of it."
"That's what he keeps saying."
"You're not going to arrest him, are you?"
"No, no. But we had the pleasure of meeting him. He seems like a nice guy."
"And he is."
"So you're one of those camping out down at the new apartment building, together with Einar?" Ante asked, paying no attention to Katinka's growing impatience with his inquiry.
"No. I'm not. I live here. But it's really none of your business, is it?"
"No. I'm sorry," Ante replied, finally getting the message that his inquiry was less than pleasant for the young girl. But unable to restrain his curiosity he pushed on anyway. "So you live here alone?" he asked.
"No. I live here with Roger."
"The chef?"
"Yeah."
"He's not your boyfriend is he?" Ante asked, concerned.
"Well... Actually he is," Kartinka answered, straightening up a notch to look more mature.
"Oh my!" Ante exclaimed. "But he could be your father. How old are you?"
Katinka hesitated a moment.
"I'm seventeen," she said, convincing neither Bjorn nor Ante. Then she turned and headed straight for the kitchen, clearly upset by Ante's intrusive questioning.
Monday, November 3, 2014
140
The path lead the two men to the crest of the ridge some distance to the south east of the village. And from there, they could see the village, pretty much in its entirety to the left, while still having a grand view of the fjord, harbor and airport to their right. The path, which had been so narrow that the two men had to walk one after the other with Bjorn following Ante, became once again wide enough for them to walk side by side.
"You know, I was worried about you there for a moment," Ante said, breaking the silence that had grown between the two men.
"When?" Bjorn asked, not immediately understanding what Ante was talking about.
"When you were alone with Einar in the servants' quarters."
"Really?"
"Yeah."
"So that was why you popped in to see me?"
"Yeah. He is one of those kids, you know."
"One of those kids?"
"Yeah. The ones in the news. Just two weeks ago, this girl stabbed a woman to death in Asker, remember?"
"And you thought Einar would do the same to me?"
"Well, I didn't want to take any chances."
"That's awfully generous of you," Bjorn answered with a lighthearted smile.
Bjorn felt happy and confident walking on the top of the ridge, and thought the idea of Einar actually hurting him, quite silly.
"So what did Georgio tell you that made you so worried?" Bjorn asked.
"Well, he told us that Einar was a cop killer, and a little suspicious of people in uniform."
"I see. I guess that would have made me a little worried too. If it was you alone with him, that is."
"Thanks."
"And why would Georgio put it that way?" Bjorn asked. "I mean, wasn't that a little mean to make you worried like that."
"Georgio is no fan of uniforms either, I guess. He keeps poking fun of us for being one of them."
"And we are, aren't we? In their eyes, I mean."
"We're the bad guys," Bjorn commented with an ironic smile. "Yet they know that we aren't."
"And so they invite us into their little world to try to convert us, you think?" Ante continued. "To show us that they are the good guys, and that we can become one of them if we please."
Bjorn nodded thoughtfully.
"You think they are right about that, though? Us being the bad guys I mean." Bjorn asked.
"Well, we're not actively doing any harm," Ante replied. "And Georgio can come and go as he pleases, so he has no reason to complain."
"He's angry about the way things went in Venice, I guess. He might be projecting his anger onto us."
"What you mean?"
"Well, he told me Friday night that the Romans clubbed down the Venetians for wanting to break free of Italy."
"Really? When did that happen?"
"Quite recently, I believe."
"I can't remember reading about that anywhere."
"No. I don't think anyone took the referendum seriously, if it even happened. Except Georgio and his friends, that is. And... well... they are Fifth Empire nut cases all of them, aren't they?"
"You know, I was worried about you there for a moment," Ante said, breaking the silence that had grown between the two men.
"When?" Bjorn asked, not immediately understanding what Ante was talking about.
"When you were alone with Einar in the servants' quarters."
"Really?"
"Yeah."
"So that was why you popped in to see me?"
"Yeah. He is one of those kids, you know."
"One of those kids?"
"Yeah. The ones in the news. Just two weeks ago, this girl stabbed a woman to death in Asker, remember?"
"And you thought Einar would do the same to me?"
"Well, I didn't want to take any chances."
"That's awfully generous of you," Bjorn answered with a lighthearted smile.
Bjorn felt happy and confident walking on the top of the ridge, and thought the idea of Einar actually hurting him, quite silly.
"So what did Georgio tell you that made you so worried?" Bjorn asked.
"Well, he told us that Einar was a cop killer, and a little suspicious of people in uniform."
"I see. I guess that would have made me a little worried too. If it was you alone with him, that is."
"Thanks."
"And why would Georgio put it that way?" Bjorn asked. "I mean, wasn't that a little mean to make you worried like that."
"Georgio is no fan of uniforms either, I guess. He keeps poking fun of us for being one of them."
"And we are, aren't we? In their eyes, I mean."
"We're the bad guys," Bjorn commented with an ironic smile. "Yet they know that we aren't."
"And so they invite us into their little world to try to convert us, you think?" Ante continued. "To show us that they are the good guys, and that we can become one of them if we please."
Bjorn nodded thoughtfully.
"You think they are right about that, though? Us being the bad guys I mean." Bjorn asked.
"Well, we're not actively doing any harm," Ante replied. "And Georgio can come and go as he pleases, so he has no reason to complain."
"He's angry about the way things went in Venice, I guess. He might be projecting his anger onto us."
"What you mean?"
"Well, he told me Friday night that the Romans clubbed down the Venetians for wanting to break free of Italy."
"Really? When did that happen?"
"Quite recently, I believe."
"I can't remember reading about that anywhere."
"No. I don't think anyone took the referendum seriously, if it even happened. Except Georgio and his friends, that is. And... well... they are Fifth Empire nut cases all of them, aren't they?"
Thursday, September 4, 2014
114
It was of course still possible that the page was some sort of prank, but the mention of Rogue Justice in the Gazette and the ad in the Blacklist gave Bjorn a strong feeling that it was in fact a real service. Contacting whoever was behind the e-mail address would almost certainly lead to a serious response which in turn could result in the violent death of a person.
It was an unnerving thought, and the way the ad had appeared right next to the names of people who in some cases were merely doing their job, added to the sense that this whole thing was getting out of control, that Lundby was full of crooks actively involved in all sorts of criminal activity.
The prostitution, the drugs, the protection rackets, and now even hired guns ready to kill for money; the village was quite obviously in the hands of the Mafia, and if not stopped pretty soon, who could know where this would end?
Bjorn turned off his computer. He got up from his chair and stretched his body to relieve himself from the tension that had built up while he was hunkered over his PC. Then he took a final look at the village before drawing the curtains. He turned on the TV and sat down in his bed to get some rest before dinner.
Something very sinister was going on in the village, and Bjorn got a cold lump in his stomach from thinking about it. He and his colleagues were after all at the very front line should anything happen. Maybe his "bunker boys" colleagues were right after all, that some sort of conflict was inevitable, and that the checkpoint would in fact be attacked one day. Terrorist attacks were after all becoming increasingly common. Police stations and army barracks were going up in flames every day in various hotspots around the world it seemed, and here he was at the very front line of an out of control village, full of armed people, some of whom evidently feeling entitled to kill whomever they have a grudge against.
Bjorn flicked through the channels on his TV in search of something soothing, skipping quickly past anything with even a hint of violence in it. But feeling edgy from thinking about Lundby, he had no patience for pure silliness either, so he found himself changing channels quite frequently until he finally landed on a documentary about kids who had been saved from kidnappers. And although the subject matter was violent in a way, there was something soothing about the topic. Good people had come to these kids' rescue, and here they were, safe and sound, and ready to talk about their ordeals.
With so much violence and destruction going on in the world, it was good to be reminded of the many heroes out there taking it upon themselves to make the world a better place. And the part of the documentary that Bjorn had landed on was particularly touching. A brother and sister were sitting on a sofa, flanked by their parents, telling the interviewer that if it had not been for their guardian angels, they would have been living in perpetual fear of their would be kidnappers.
Bjorn found the term "guardian angels" quaint but fitting. "What better word to describe people dedicating their lives to saving children?" he thought as he listened to the kids parent narrating their side of the story. Bjorn clicked on the info button on the remote control, and sure enough, the documentary he was watching was simply called "The Guardian Angels". And although he at this point realized that he was watching a program about the child protective services, he did not change the channel, despite having just realized that he had failed in preventing Cecilie, as she called herself, from entering the village with her daughter.
Bjorn was fascinated by what he was watching. The heroic nature of the work the "guardian angels" were doing was inspiring, and Bjorn wondered for a while if he should take it upon himself to find Cecilie and her daughter, and bring them back to Alta to meet with the angles. Or better still, find out where they were hiding and simply report this to them.
But there was something artificial about the documentary that slowly grew on him. A strange sense of unease as the stories, a little too extreme to be entirely believable, unfolded and revealed that the parents were not in fact the parents of the children, but their foster parents. And that the kidnapping was not so much a kidnapping as a desperate attempt by the children's biological parents to escape the child protection services.
If these guardian angels were so keen to help, why the drama and the sudden impulses to bring in the police to forcefully take the children away from the parents. Was there really an epidemic of child molestation by biological parents against their own children out there? Did the better safe than sorry attitude that these angles were promoting really make sense?
And then, much to Bjorn's amazement, the woman in charge of the child protection services in Alta appeared, and Bjorn could not help think of the long list of complaints against her as she sat there smugly bragging about the hundreds of children she had personally saved.
"Hundreds?" Bjorn thought in disbelief. "Hundreds of children saved in an area that has less than ten thousand children." And why on earth was this woman, of all the so called guardian angles out there, the one to get so much positive attention in the documentary? It seemed odd that a person who evidently is much feared and clearly hated by many should get such an opportunity to brag of her achievements.
She even got the honour of making the closing statement for the documentary. The interviewer asked urgently and passionately who would save the children if it was not for guardian angles like her. And the head of the child protection services in Alta nodded with a knowing smile, adding rhetorically "who indeed?"
And with this question in mind Bjorn was left pondering its implications as the list of credits appeared on the screen. It was easy for him to think that they may be overdoing things a bit in Alta, but did he have any better solutions? He was no expert in these matters, and what did he know about child molestation? And the evidence was there. Children were being saved, and who would do this if not the angles?
But Bjorn did not get any time to think more about this. It was dinner time, and Ante was knocking on doors, telling everybody to come down to the kitchen to take part in the feast.
And eager to join Ante and his other colleagues Bjorn rose quickly from his bed, which made him suddenly feel dizzy, just like last night at the casino. But Bjorn was too eager to go down and eat to worry about this, and after having steadied himself against the wall for a moment to regaining his balance, he simply made a mental note that he had to talk to a doctor one of these days.
It was an unnerving thought, and the way the ad had appeared right next to the names of people who in some cases were merely doing their job, added to the sense that this whole thing was getting out of control, that Lundby was full of crooks actively involved in all sorts of criminal activity.
The prostitution, the drugs, the protection rackets, and now even hired guns ready to kill for money; the village was quite obviously in the hands of the Mafia, and if not stopped pretty soon, who could know where this would end?
Bjorn turned off his computer. He got up from his chair and stretched his body to relieve himself from the tension that had built up while he was hunkered over his PC. Then he took a final look at the village before drawing the curtains. He turned on the TV and sat down in his bed to get some rest before dinner.
Something very sinister was going on in the village, and Bjorn got a cold lump in his stomach from thinking about it. He and his colleagues were after all at the very front line should anything happen. Maybe his "bunker boys" colleagues were right after all, that some sort of conflict was inevitable, and that the checkpoint would in fact be attacked one day. Terrorist attacks were after all becoming increasingly common. Police stations and army barracks were going up in flames every day in various hotspots around the world it seemed, and here he was at the very front line of an out of control village, full of armed people, some of whom evidently feeling entitled to kill whomever they have a grudge against.
Bjorn flicked through the channels on his TV in search of something soothing, skipping quickly past anything with even a hint of violence in it. But feeling edgy from thinking about Lundby, he had no patience for pure silliness either, so he found himself changing channels quite frequently until he finally landed on a documentary about kids who had been saved from kidnappers. And although the subject matter was violent in a way, there was something soothing about the topic. Good people had come to these kids' rescue, and here they were, safe and sound, and ready to talk about their ordeals.
With so much violence and destruction going on in the world, it was good to be reminded of the many heroes out there taking it upon themselves to make the world a better place. And the part of the documentary that Bjorn had landed on was particularly touching. A brother and sister were sitting on a sofa, flanked by their parents, telling the interviewer that if it had not been for their guardian angels, they would have been living in perpetual fear of their would be kidnappers.
Bjorn found the term "guardian angels" quaint but fitting. "What better word to describe people dedicating their lives to saving children?" he thought as he listened to the kids parent narrating their side of the story. Bjorn clicked on the info button on the remote control, and sure enough, the documentary he was watching was simply called "The Guardian Angels". And although he at this point realized that he was watching a program about the child protective services, he did not change the channel, despite having just realized that he had failed in preventing Cecilie, as she called herself, from entering the village with her daughter.
Bjorn was fascinated by what he was watching. The heroic nature of the work the "guardian angels" were doing was inspiring, and Bjorn wondered for a while if he should take it upon himself to find Cecilie and her daughter, and bring them back to Alta to meet with the angles. Or better still, find out where they were hiding and simply report this to them.
But there was something artificial about the documentary that slowly grew on him. A strange sense of unease as the stories, a little too extreme to be entirely believable, unfolded and revealed that the parents were not in fact the parents of the children, but their foster parents. And that the kidnapping was not so much a kidnapping as a desperate attempt by the children's biological parents to escape the child protection services.
If these guardian angels were so keen to help, why the drama and the sudden impulses to bring in the police to forcefully take the children away from the parents. Was there really an epidemic of child molestation by biological parents against their own children out there? Did the better safe than sorry attitude that these angles were promoting really make sense?
And then, much to Bjorn's amazement, the woman in charge of the child protection services in Alta appeared, and Bjorn could not help think of the long list of complaints against her as she sat there smugly bragging about the hundreds of children she had personally saved.
"Hundreds?" Bjorn thought in disbelief. "Hundreds of children saved in an area that has less than ten thousand children." And why on earth was this woman, of all the so called guardian angles out there, the one to get so much positive attention in the documentary? It seemed odd that a person who evidently is much feared and clearly hated by many should get such an opportunity to brag of her achievements.
She even got the honour of making the closing statement for the documentary. The interviewer asked urgently and passionately who would save the children if it was not for guardian angles like her. And the head of the child protection services in Alta nodded with a knowing smile, adding rhetorically "who indeed?"
And with this question in mind Bjorn was left pondering its implications as the list of credits appeared on the screen. It was easy for him to think that they may be overdoing things a bit in Alta, but did he have any better solutions? He was no expert in these matters, and what did he know about child molestation? And the evidence was there. Children were being saved, and who would do this if not the angles?
But Bjorn did not get any time to think more about this. It was dinner time, and Ante was knocking on doors, telling everybody to come down to the kitchen to take part in the feast.
And eager to join Ante and his other colleagues Bjorn rose quickly from his bed, which made him suddenly feel dizzy, just like last night at the casino. But Bjorn was too eager to go down and eat to worry about this, and after having steadied himself against the wall for a moment to regaining his balance, he simply made a mental note that he had to talk to a doctor one of these days.
Monday, September 1, 2014
113
With Thomas in the room, it was suddenly as if the whole thing with Frank's gun was settled and sorted out, including the strong suspicion that Frank was somehow compromised or corrupted. And when Ante and Thomas left for the kitchen, Bjorn did not immediately see any problem with Frank's gun being left at the coffee table in front of him. However, Bjorn soon felt like going up to his room, and feeling it a little too irresponsible to leave the gun unattended in the living room, he brought it with him to the kitchen.
"Isn't it better if you keep this gun with you until Frank comes down to pick it up?" Bjorn asked as he put the gun down on the dining table.
"Why not leave it on Frank's spot?" Thomas suggested from over by the counter where he was preparing a sandwich for himself.
"Like here?" Bjorn asked, pushing the gun over to Frank's regular spot.
"Yeah, like that."
"And that's all right with you, Ante?" Bjorn asked.
"Sure! Why not?" Ante answered as if the whole discussion was without consequences as far as he was concerned.
Bjorn smiled. Ante's sudden change of temperament was amusing, considering how anxious he had been. And Ante smiled back in unspoken recognition of this.
Thomas' cluelessness regarding the significance of the gun had clearly been both refreshing and uplifting as far as Ante was concerned. And Thomas' continued ignorance as he headed for the glass cage with his sandwich and thermos with freshly made coffee, was putting Ante back into his usual careless and happy self. However, Bjorn did not stay behind to chat with Ante. Instead, he followed Thomas out in the hall before heading up stairs to his room.
Bjorn wanted to find out more about Rogue Justice. The way it had been mentioned in the Gazette was strangely obscure, and its business model seemed far fetched to say the least. Bjorn knew that he would not be able to keep his mind off the subject before doing at least some research on it, so small talk with Ante, no mater how pleasant this usually was, was of little interested to him at the moment.
Back in his room, Bjorn felt completely at ease as he sat down in front of his computer. He could see cars down by the fjord driving back and forth between the village and the port, and he was reminded of the article in the Gazette predicting an unusually busy weekend with record number of bargain hunters coming and going. And he could also see Nora's place in the distance. The large boulder next to it made it easy to pick out among the houses along the distant shoreline.
Bjorn turned on his computer and typed in "Rogue Justice" in the search field of his browser.
Nothing of relevance came up on his screen, so Bjorn added the word "assassins" to the search string to see if this gave a better result, but this search returned an even sadder looking list.
"So it does not exist, then?" Bjorn thought to himself. Then he changed the word "assassins" with the word "blacklist", more out of idle curiosity than anything else, and immediately got up the address of the recently created web site for registering all sorts of bickering and complaints.
Bjorn clicked on the link to the Blacklist, and was surprised to see how much it had developed since the last time he looked at it. People had clearly been busy adding people they disliked to the web page, and the first page that Bjorn found himself reading even had a list of "most wanted criminals".
There was a banner in a bold font stressing that all of the bellow mentioned people must be considered innocent until proven guilty, but on clicking on a few of the people in the list, there was no doubt that they were all guilty of grave crimes. Two of them had pictures of themselves grinning from ear to ear as they held up severed human heads, and a third had a video attached to his name showing him executing a bunch of kids by shooting them in the back.
Bjorn found the collection of evidence so sickening that he stopped clicking on the links to them, and focused instead on the written accusations and the demands for retribution.
Not too surprisingly, the top ten list was filled entirely by mass murderers from far off places like Mexico, Columbia, Congo and Syria. However, when he narrowed the list down geographically to Lundby and surrounding areas, Bjorn was surprised to see public officials being listed among the most wanted, with the single most sought after "criminal" being the head of the child protection services in Alta.
Bjorn clicked on the link to see what the complaint was, and was not too surprised to see the accusation of kidnapping being levied against her. It is after all the job of the child protection services to act forcefully at times to save children form their abusive parents, and it is inevitable that some of these parents feel strongly about their loss of custody over their own children. To accuse the head of this social service in Alta of kidnapping was in other words nothing short of low level bickering.
However, the list of plaintiffs levying charges against this particular woman was surprisingly long, and looking through the list Bjorn was struck by how many of the plaintiffs were shamelessly exposing themselves with a resent picture of themselves and with their full name and address for everyone to see. "Where is the shame?" he wondered as he eyed the list with quiet curiosity. "Didn't it use to be the ultimate shame to be judged unfit to raise a child? Didn't people use to come up with all sorts of excuses and avoid the subject all together if their child was taken away from them by the state?"
"Not any more, evidently," Bjorn concluded as he finally reached the end of the list, where to his shock a familiar face was staring right at him. It was the woman who insisted on being let into the colony the other day, and Bjorn realized on seeing her that he had in fact enabled a crime by letting her in. This woman was most certainly running away from the authorities, and a danger to her daughter. And he had let her into the colony without mentioning this to anybody but Ante.
Bjorn clicked on the picture, getting up the full details on the woman. Her name was Cecilie, and her address was still unchanged from the one she must have had in Alta. And her accusation levied at the head of the child protection services in Alta was that of attempted kidnapping of her daughter.
There was no more information on the woman, and Bjorn was about to leave the page when he glanced over at the right column with its add for Lance Securities. The ad was unchanged. However, a thin black banner appearing directly underneath the ad for Lance made it look somewhat altered.
He looked at the banner, and got another surprise. "Rogue Justice" it said in deep red letters on the black background, as if deliberately making itself hard to find. Bjorn clicked on it and found himself redirected to a website with no name. The URL field did not contain a name of a website, but an IP address, followed by a few slashes separated with some more numbers.
The odd looking address only added to the sense that the website was deliberately hiding in the very darkest corners of the web, and when Bjorn poked around on the screen, he realized that the webpage was nothing but a single image. The little text there were was clearly meant for purely human interpretation, deliberately using hard to read fonts to make image recognition software incapable of reading it. And the only text on the page was a cryptic message which required some thinking in order to be recognized as an e-mail address. The rest was a series of images making it clear to the determined reader that the service provided by the webpage's owner was indeed that of a hired gun.
"Isn't it better if you keep this gun with you until Frank comes down to pick it up?" Bjorn asked as he put the gun down on the dining table.
"Why not leave it on Frank's spot?" Thomas suggested from over by the counter where he was preparing a sandwich for himself.
"Like here?" Bjorn asked, pushing the gun over to Frank's regular spot.
"Yeah, like that."
"And that's all right with you, Ante?" Bjorn asked.
"Sure! Why not?" Ante answered as if the whole discussion was without consequences as far as he was concerned.
Bjorn smiled. Ante's sudden change of temperament was amusing, considering how anxious he had been. And Ante smiled back in unspoken recognition of this.
Thomas' cluelessness regarding the significance of the gun had clearly been both refreshing and uplifting as far as Ante was concerned. And Thomas' continued ignorance as he headed for the glass cage with his sandwich and thermos with freshly made coffee, was putting Ante back into his usual careless and happy self. However, Bjorn did not stay behind to chat with Ante. Instead, he followed Thomas out in the hall before heading up stairs to his room.
Bjorn wanted to find out more about Rogue Justice. The way it had been mentioned in the Gazette was strangely obscure, and its business model seemed far fetched to say the least. Bjorn knew that he would not be able to keep his mind off the subject before doing at least some research on it, so small talk with Ante, no mater how pleasant this usually was, was of little interested to him at the moment.
Back in his room, Bjorn felt completely at ease as he sat down in front of his computer. He could see cars down by the fjord driving back and forth between the village and the port, and he was reminded of the article in the Gazette predicting an unusually busy weekend with record number of bargain hunters coming and going. And he could also see Nora's place in the distance. The large boulder next to it made it easy to pick out among the houses along the distant shoreline.
Bjorn turned on his computer and typed in "Rogue Justice" in the search field of his browser.
Nothing of relevance came up on his screen, so Bjorn added the word "assassins" to the search string to see if this gave a better result, but this search returned an even sadder looking list.
"So it does not exist, then?" Bjorn thought to himself. Then he changed the word "assassins" with the word "blacklist", more out of idle curiosity than anything else, and immediately got up the address of the recently created web site for registering all sorts of bickering and complaints.
Bjorn clicked on the link to the Blacklist, and was surprised to see how much it had developed since the last time he looked at it. People had clearly been busy adding people they disliked to the web page, and the first page that Bjorn found himself reading even had a list of "most wanted criminals".
There was a banner in a bold font stressing that all of the bellow mentioned people must be considered innocent until proven guilty, but on clicking on a few of the people in the list, there was no doubt that they were all guilty of grave crimes. Two of them had pictures of themselves grinning from ear to ear as they held up severed human heads, and a third had a video attached to his name showing him executing a bunch of kids by shooting them in the back.
Bjorn found the collection of evidence so sickening that he stopped clicking on the links to them, and focused instead on the written accusations and the demands for retribution.
Not too surprisingly, the top ten list was filled entirely by mass murderers from far off places like Mexico, Columbia, Congo and Syria. However, when he narrowed the list down geographically to Lundby and surrounding areas, Bjorn was surprised to see public officials being listed among the most wanted, with the single most sought after "criminal" being the head of the child protection services in Alta.
Bjorn clicked on the link to see what the complaint was, and was not too surprised to see the accusation of kidnapping being levied against her. It is after all the job of the child protection services to act forcefully at times to save children form their abusive parents, and it is inevitable that some of these parents feel strongly about their loss of custody over their own children. To accuse the head of this social service in Alta of kidnapping was in other words nothing short of low level bickering.
However, the list of plaintiffs levying charges against this particular woman was surprisingly long, and looking through the list Bjorn was struck by how many of the plaintiffs were shamelessly exposing themselves with a resent picture of themselves and with their full name and address for everyone to see. "Where is the shame?" he wondered as he eyed the list with quiet curiosity. "Didn't it use to be the ultimate shame to be judged unfit to raise a child? Didn't people use to come up with all sorts of excuses and avoid the subject all together if their child was taken away from them by the state?"
"Not any more, evidently," Bjorn concluded as he finally reached the end of the list, where to his shock a familiar face was staring right at him. It was the woman who insisted on being let into the colony the other day, and Bjorn realized on seeing her that he had in fact enabled a crime by letting her in. This woman was most certainly running away from the authorities, and a danger to her daughter. And he had let her into the colony without mentioning this to anybody but Ante.
Bjorn clicked on the picture, getting up the full details on the woman. Her name was Cecilie, and her address was still unchanged from the one she must have had in Alta. And her accusation levied at the head of the child protection services in Alta was that of attempted kidnapping of her daughter.
There was no more information on the woman, and Bjorn was about to leave the page when he glanced over at the right column with its add for Lance Securities. The ad was unchanged. However, a thin black banner appearing directly underneath the ad for Lance made it look somewhat altered.
He looked at the banner, and got another surprise. "Rogue Justice" it said in deep red letters on the black background, as if deliberately making itself hard to find. Bjorn clicked on it and found himself redirected to a website with no name. The URL field did not contain a name of a website, but an IP address, followed by a few slashes separated with some more numbers.
The odd looking address only added to the sense that the website was deliberately hiding in the very darkest corners of the web, and when Bjorn poked around on the screen, he realized that the webpage was nothing but a single image. The little text there were was clearly meant for purely human interpretation, deliberately using hard to read fonts to make image recognition software incapable of reading it. And the only text on the page was a cryptic message which required some thinking in order to be recognized as an e-mail address. The rest was a series of images making it clear to the determined reader that the service provided by the webpage's owner was indeed that of a hired gun.
Wednesday, May 7, 2014
59
Ante took out three filets of salmon from the fridge and lay them down on a baking sheet. Then he proceeded to marinate the fish with a mix of olive oil, salt, pepper, dill weed and lemon juice. It looked very promising, and Bjorn could feel how he was getting hungry just by looking at how Ante prepared the fish.
"You know... A strange thing happened while I was out in the glass box today," Bjorn said, breaking the silence and changing the topic of discussion away from taxes and politicians.
"And?" Ante asked with curiosity.
"There was this woman... She had no papers on her... And she had her daughter with her..."
"Yeah?"
"And she told me, dead serious, that she had no plans to leave the village any time soon."
"So?"
"Well, isn't that odd?"
"Why is that odd? There are quite a few people living in the village. Like Ane for instance."
"Yeah, but this woman was like... like she was running away from someone."
Ante dumped a sack full of potatoes into a large pot of water. Then, after some thinking, he asked if the woman was Sami.
"No! Why?" Bjorn asked puzzled.
"She was from around here, though?" Ante continued.
"Sure. She talked like you... Same dialect."
"I bet she was running away from the child protection services."
"The what?" Bjorn asked, surprised by Ante's quick conclusion.
"The child protection services," Ante repeated. "Surly, you have heard of them."
"Yeah! But why are you so sure that this woman was running away from them."
"Who else could it be?"
"Her husband, maybe?"
"Well, I guess it could be... More likely to be the child protectors, though. Don't you think?"
Bjorn could think of no better explanation. And the woman had come across as slightly manic, so it would not surprise him if she was in fact in need of help of some kind.
"Isn't it strange how those most in need of help, usually are the first to run away from it?" Bjorn asked.
"Like that woman, you mean?"
"Yeah."
"But is it really help if those you are helping feel like they have to escape?"
"Well... No..." Bjorn replied reluctantly, sensing a flaw in Ante's reasoning, yet unable to put his finger on it directly. "Maybe not."
"They were probably about to take the girl away from her, and she decided to flee," Ante continued.
"But what if she's really incapable of taking proper care of her daughter?" Bjorn asked. "I mean, some parents are really terrible. You've heard the stories, haven't you?"
"I have indeed," Ante replied.
Ante poured himself a cup of coffee, offering Bjorn some too. But Bjorn did not feel like drinking coffee right before dinner. And he did not feel like ending the discussion or change the topic either.
"So what do you think?" Bjorn asked.
"About the woman?"
"Yeah."
"Well, she got away, didn't she?"
"Yes, and what do you think about that?"
"Well... Good for her! She got away. I'm sure she's happy about that."
"And her daughter? What about her?"
"Did she look sad or unhappy?"
"Well..." Bjorn said while trying to conger up the memory of what the girl looked like. "She just sat there, neither happy nor sad, I think."
"So she didn't look like she was abused in any way? She didn't look like she wanted to run away from mother?"
"No."
"Then, good for her too! She got away with her mother. How is that bad?"
"But what if the woman is a terrible mother?"
"We don't know that though?"
"But the child protectors probably think so."
"They probably do."
"So... Doesn't that tell us something?"
"Well... It explains why the woman was fleeing with her daughter."
Bjorn sighed in frustration. But seeing that Ante was grinning at him triumphantly, he sensed that Ante was simply playing the devil's advocate, and that he could easily poke hole in his argument by exposing this.
"You really don't trust the government, do you?" Bjorn asked with a hint of sarcasm in order to see if Ante was just promoting one of Thomas' anti-government ideas, or truly meaning what he was saying.
"And why should I? I'm Sami after all!" Ante answered with no hint of irony. "And you know, Bjorn, we don't really know if she was running away from the child protection services or not. We are just speculating."
And with this, Ante effectively stopped the discussion. His reference to the plight of the Samis was enough to derail it. And it also explained why he had wondered about the woman's ethnicity. A lingering distrust of government agents and their motives must have been why he asked if the woman happened to be Sami.
"You know... A strange thing happened while I was out in the glass box today," Bjorn said, breaking the silence and changing the topic of discussion away from taxes and politicians.
"And?" Ante asked with curiosity.
"There was this woman... She had no papers on her... And she had her daughter with her..."
"Yeah?"
"And she told me, dead serious, that she had no plans to leave the village any time soon."
"So?"
"Well, isn't that odd?"
"Why is that odd? There are quite a few people living in the village. Like Ane for instance."
"Yeah, but this woman was like... like she was running away from someone."
Ante dumped a sack full of potatoes into a large pot of water. Then, after some thinking, he asked if the woman was Sami.
"No! Why?" Bjorn asked puzzled.
"She was from around here, though?" Ante continued.
"Sure. She talked like you... Same dialect."
"I bet she was running away from the child protection services."
"The what?" Bjorn asked, surprised by Ante's quick conclusion.
"The child protection services," Ante repeated. "Surly, you have heard of them."
"Yeah! But why are you so sure that this woman was running away from them."
"Who else could it be?"
"Her husband, maybe?"
"Well, I guess it could be... More likely to be the child protectors, though. Don't you think?"
Bjorn could think of no better explanation. And the woman had come across as slightly manic, so it would not surprise him if she was in fact in need of help of some kind.
"Isn't it strange how those most in need of help, usually are the first to run away from it?" Bjorn asked.
"Like that woman, you mean?"
"Yeah."
"But is it really help if those you are helping feel like they have to escape?"
"Well... No..." Bjorn replied reluctantly, sensing a flaw in Ante's reasoning, yet unable to put his finger on it directly. "Maybe not."
"They were probably about to take the girl away from her, and she decided to flee," Ante continued.
"But what if she's really incapable of taking proper care of her daughter?" Bjorn asked. "I mean, some parents are really terrible. You've heard the stories, haven't you?"
"I have indeed," Ante replied.
Ante poured himself a cup of coffee, offering Bjorn some too. But Bjorn did not feel like drinking coffee right before dinner. And he did not feel like ending the discussion or change the topic either.
"So what do you think?" Bjorn asked.
"About the woman?"
"Yeah."
"Well, she got away, didn't she?"
"Yes, and what do you think about that?"
"Well... Good for her! She got away. I'm sure she's happy about that."
"And her daughter? What about her?"
"Did she look sad or unhappy?"
"Well..." Bjorn said while trying to conger up the memory of what the girl looked like. "She just sat there, neither happy nor sad, I think."
"So she didn't look like she was abused in any way? She didn't look like she wanted to run away from mother?"
"No."
"Then, good for her too! She got away with her mother. How is that bad?"
"But what if the woman is a terrible mother?"
"We don't know that though?"
"But the child protectors probably think so."
"They probably do."
"So... Doesn't that tell us something?"
"Well... It explains why the woman was fleeing with her daughter."
Bjorn sighed in frustration. But seeing that Ante was grinning at him triumphantly, he sensed that Ante was simply playing the devil's advocate, and that he could easily poke hole in his argument by exposing this.
"You really don't trust the government, do you?" Bjorn asked with a hint of sarcasm in order to see if Ante was just promoting one of Thomas' anti-government ideas, or truly meaning what he was saying.
"And why should I? I'm Sami after all!" Ante answered with no hint of irony. "And you know, Bjorn, we don't really know if she was running away from the child protection services or not. We are just speculating."
And with this, Ante effectively stopped the discussion. His reference to the plight of the Samis was enough to derail it. And it also explained why he had wondered about the woman's ethnicity. A lingering distrust of government agents and their motives must have been why he asked if the woman happened to be Sami.
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