169

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

158

Back in his room, Bjorn put the little bottle of medicine on the table in front of the window. Then he sat down and studied it idly for a while before putting it in a drawer together with the little measuring cup that came with it. The label said nothing about what was actually in the bottle. There was no list of ingredients, and no mention of the cannabis oil that David talked about. The full text on the label was "David's Anxiety Relief" with "secret recipe" as a sub-title. That was it, plain and simple.

The lack of information on the bottle did not bother Bjorn, though. In fact, it was probably for the better. If it had said cannabis oil on the label, and someone like Geir happened to come across it, it could easily mean trouble. This way, no one would know just by looking at it that it was in fact contraband.

Bjorn felt confident that the medicine was as harmless as David had said, not least because he knew from experience what sort of effect he could expect. Way back, before he met his ex, he had been smoking pot quite regularly. And the warm and fuzzy feeling he got from it was nothing but pleasant. But he dropped the habit when he became a father, and even during his extended period of unemployment, he had not bothered to take it up again.

Holding the bottle in his hand, reading the label, he had been tempted to try the medicine right away, but remembering David's instruction, only to take it just before going to bed, he had put it away in the drawer instead. He felt terribly anxious, though. The day had been way more eventful than he had imagined, and much of it with a sinister undertone. Like Pedro's shameless claim to know his weekly schedule.

And someone in Oslo was apparently also taking a personal interest in Bjorn's schedule. It was all a little spooky. Why were these people singling him out, he wondered.

Bjorn had to admit he knew the answer, though. Bjorn and Espen were being asked to check out the airport precisely because they were so bad at that kind of things. And the one most likely to benefit from this was Pedro. Pedro was behind this, and someone must have told him who to pick for the assignment on Wednesday, and that someone was most likely Frank.

Frank was no doubt corrupted, and Pedro was pulling his strings, either directly or via Oslo. In fact, leaving Oslo out of the picture, simplified things quite a bit. Oslo was probably just a lame excuse invented by Frank to divert the attention away from himself. Frank had most likely been in direct contact with Pedro who had simply called Frank and told him to send his two most incompetent men.

But knowing who had been talking to whom, did not really solve the mystery. The real mystery was not who were behind this, but rather why. What was Pedro up to out at the airport? What was he hiding out there? And then there was the added question of what Bjorn should do about this, now that he had evidence that he was used as a pawn in a game of sorts.

"I'm dealing with gangsters," Bjorn thought, feeling a sudden cold rush up his spine. "I better not do anything stupid, like playing the hero."

But to play the hero, he would have to know what the game was all about, and he didn't. He was clueless as to the game being played. And this thought was strangely comforting. "Some things are better left alone," Bjorn thought to himself. "And this whole mess is definitely one of them. I'll simply be my usual clueless self. That way I'll probably sail through this whole thing without any trouble."

152

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

Bjorn shook his head.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ante started walking again.

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

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

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

151

Bjorn felt immediately much better on leaving the restaurant.

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

Ante looked at Bjorn and then back at the pharmacy.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

David looked at Bjorn with a critical eye.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

David looked at Ante with a critical smile.

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

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

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

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

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

150

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ante and Katinka looked at Bjorn quietly.

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

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

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

149

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

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

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

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

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

145

"So you see," Ante commented once Katinka had disappeared back into the kitchen. "Katinka does not seem to have a problem with David's pharmacy."
"No, apparently not."
"But you do, don't you?" Ante continued, pouring some dressing onto a piece of pizza.

Bjorn looked across the street. Apart from the rather provocative sign about the sky not being the limit, the pharmacy seemed quite harmless, and he had to admit that he did not feel threatened by it in any way.

"It's not so much me, but kids and, you know, other people I'm worried about."
"Really?"
"Yeah."
"Like Katinka?"
"Well yeah, sort of."
"So you don't think she can take care of herself?"

Bjorn took a piece of pizza for himself.

"Katinka is a bad example. But you know, other people."
"Other people?" Ante asked, munching thoughtfully on his piece of pizza. "Like who?"
"Well, I don't know. Drug addicts. You know, people who get hooked on that stuff. I mean, it can really get you in trouble."
"Like, it can get you arrested, right?"
"Right."
"But that's not the drugs, that's the police, isn't it. The biggest danger with illegal drugs is that it can land you in jail."
"Now, that's silly," Bjorn protested. "Some of those drugs will kill you, you know."
"And that's what you think David is selling? Drugs that kill people?"
"Yeah, what's to stop him?"
"His reputation, maybe."
"Reputation?"
"Would you sit here and eat this pizza if you had heard that someone died eating this?"
"No, of course not."
"But you expect people to flock to David's pharmacy, knowing full well that he kills people?"
"No. But that's different. You know, if you're hooked, you'll do it anyway. You'll buy it, even if it may kill you."
"Exactly. So the addicts will find their drugs somehow, and buy it from someone somewhere. Someone with a sketchy reputation. Isn't it better that they buy it from David who has a reputation to take care of? Don't you think it's safer for the addicts to deal with David than someone under a bridge somewhere?"
"Yeah, maybe. But this guy is promoting his stuff. He's actively pushing it. You really think that should be legal?"
"Why not?"
"Because... You know... This is just stupid. I've already told you why, haven't I?"
"Yeah, you have."
"It's Thomas talking through you again, isn't it?" Bjorn inquired.
"Kind of. But I always thought it odd that people shouldn't be allowed to make up their own minds on things like this. So, it's not like I never thought about this. It's just that Thomas kind of put words to those thoughts."
"Thomas is a bitter old man," Bjorn commented.
"He's a good deal younger than you."
"Still. He's a bitter old man. That's what he is."

The pizza was exactly like what Bjorn was used to from Oslo, so there was no doubt that it was made from the original Peppe's recipe. But just as Bjorn was about to comment on this, Ante broke the silence.

"Did you ever try, like pot or anything like that?" Ante asked.
"Well... yeah... Who hasn't? I mean..."
"I've never tried it. Never even felt curious."
"Really?"
"Yeah," Ante continued thoughtfully. "Maybe that's why I don't mind people like David. I don't feel drawn to his stuff, so I don't see any reason to stop him."
"Well, that's a thought."
"What about you? Did you ever try anything that was, you know, stronger than pot?"
"No, but I've been tempted. You know, when I was young."
"And it scares you to think what might have happened?"
"Yeah, I'm glad I didn't try it."
"You think you could have been hooked?"
"I don't know... Maybe."
"So that's why you want it to be illegal. That's the real reason? Is it?"
"What?"
"You're afraid of yourself, and would prefer to see it banned?"
"Now... Well... That's silly. No, I'm not afraid of myself. I can take care of myself."
"But the younger version of yourself? That's the one you want to protect?"
"Nah... That's not it. I just know that people get drawn to this stuff, and I think it shouldn't be out there."
"Okay. So it should be banned? Much better to let the Mafia sell this kind of stuff than people like David?"
"But David is the Mafia. This whole place is run by them. Haven't you figured that out yet?"

Ante didn't answer, but took a final swing of his beer instead. Then he looked around for Katinka, catching sight of her over by the bar. And once he got her attention he signaled that he would like another beer.

"Oh, no he's not," Bjorn intervened in a loud voice. "Give this man a glass of water will you."

144

Bjorn started leafing through the menu in front of him, mostly to check what sort of prices they were charging for the food. It was the very same glossy menu that he was used to from Oslo, but all the prices were covered with little handwritten tags expressing the prices in MG.

"I wonder how they make ends meet with these prices," Bjorn commented. "Hundred MG for a pizza. That's nothing."
"Well, everything else is cheep too," Ante replied. "I bet they can make that pizza for less than fifty. And then they make some money on the drinks and stuff, too. They'll make like a hundred MG on the two of us by the time we're finished."
"That's still not a lot, is it?"
"Maybe not, but better than what Ane's workers are getting."
"True."
"And let's say they sell like twenty pizzas in a day, plus extras. That's two Gram in a day. That's not so bad here in Lundby."
"So you think they're doing all right?"
"Yeah, why not?"
"Well, there's wages for one, and renting and heating this place. And what about the license for the franchise. That's not free either. Two Gram can't possibly cover all that."

Ante looked out of the window, as if searching for an answer.

"And yet, here they are," Ante commented thoughtfully. "Maybe they're not paying the franchising license."
"Well... Actually... That would explain a few things, wouldn't it? Like the beer, and this interior. You think they are just pretending to be a Peppe's franchise?"
"It would explain their concern about getting arrested too, wouldn't it?"
"It would."

Bjorn was impressed by Ante's reasoning. It made perfect sense, and explained all the little oddities.

"You're quite a detective!" Bjorn said, lifting his beer to his lips.
"Thanks."

Ante too, took a sip of his beer. Then he placed the glass back on a coaster in a deliberate and thoughtful manner.

"You know, my grandfather would have loved this," he said.
"Peppe's?"
"No. Opening a restaurant like this. Or rather... a restaurant of his own, in his own house."
"Yeah?"
"Yep. He actually did so. He got laid off at the iron mine. And the first thing he did was to make an informal restaurant in his house. He was a bit of a wizard in the kitchen."
"A little like you, in other words?"
"Yeah. Thanks. Only better. He made these fantastic reindeer steaks. And he had all these local herbs that he knew how to use."
"Local herbs? Here in the arctic?"
"Well, yeah. Things grow here too you know. It's not like we don't get any summer at all."
"Yeah. Well. Anyway... So he opened a restaurant?"
"He did."
"How did it go?"
"Pretty badly. He got shut down almost immediately. And he had to pay a fee and all."
"Really?"
"Yep. They took a big chunk of his savings."
"But why?"
"Well. He didn't have the licenses and the papers and stuff. It was illegal back then to open a restaurant in a private home."
"It still is, isn't it?"
"Yeah. Except here in Lundby. They got different rules here now."
"More like no rules at all."

Bjorn took another sip of his beer.

"It's not going to end well," he commented thoughtfully.
"You keep saying that," Ante protested. "Yet nothing wrong has happened."
"Not yet, no."
"And what exactly is going to go wrong, you think?"
"Well, I don't know. But it's not like all those rules we live under serve no purpose. They are there for a reason."
"You think so?"
"Yeah, of course!"
"So you feel unsafe, having a pizza here in Lundby, eating at Nora's Place and having a sandwich down at the market?"
"No. But it would have been better if it was regulated in some way."
"But it is."
"No it isn't. This is completely unregulated. You know that."
"It's regulated by the market."
"What?"
"If any of these guys serve bad food, people will stop going to their restaurants. You don't need anyone to shut down places just in case."

Bjorn had no idea why he was defending the regulatory bodies that had shut down Ante's grandfather's restaurant. He just did. Almost mechanically, as if it was his duty to defend the rules and regulations that so obviously were infringing on people's freedoms. Yet he could not stop himself from playing the devils advocate.

"And what about the so called pharmacy across the road here?" Bjorn said defiantly. "Surely, you don't think that's all right too?"
"Well, actually I do. But here's the pizza."

And sure enough, Katinka was heading straight for their table with a large pizza, straight from the oven and cut into a grid of palm size pieces.

"You want some garlic sauce to go with that?" Katinka asked as she put the pizza on the table between the two men.
"Yeah, that would be nice," Ante answered.
"Okay, I'll be right back."

Katinka hurried back off to the kitchen to get the sauce, which gave Ante an opportunity to mention Bjorn's intention to question Katinka about her worry about getting arrested.

"And here she is," Ante said with a smile on seeing Katinka return. "I'm all ears."

Katinka put the garlic sauce on the table.

"And you are fine with drinks and all?" she asked looking from Ante to Bjorn.
"Well, I have a question," Bjorn ventured.
"Yes?"
"Is this a real Peppe's franchise, or just a copy?"
"Ah... Why do you ask?"
"Well... You seem to be concerned about getting arrested, right?" Bjorn continued, feeling suddenly uncomfortable about his intrusive questioning.

Katinka straightened up and looked at Bjorn with suspicion.

"We're protected by Lance."
"And?" Bjorn asked puzzled.
"You're under their jurisdiction."
"What you mean?"
"It means you cannot come here and arrest people or harass us or anything like that."
"And if we did, what would they do?"
"Well, they would arrest you."
"Arrest us?"
"Yeah."
"How?"
"They would send some guys over and put you in irons, I guess."
"Like immediately?"
"No. We would call them first."
"But you'd be on your way to Kirkenes long before they get here."
"Only if you managed to get out of the house. And even then, they would arrest you at their first opportunity."
"Well, we carry guns you know."
"So do they."

Bjorn was stunned by Katinka's insinuation, and was unable to come up with more to say.

"Well, thank you for your explanation," Ante added. "So I take it, you're insured by Lance."
"Yes. I think everyone here is. Everyone with a business, that is."
"Like David across the street?" Ante suggested.
"Oh yeah. I mean... He really needs protection."
"Why?"
"Well, it's not exactly legal, what he's doing."
"Not even here in Lundby?"
"No. It's legal here of course. But. Well, he's selling drugs, you know."
"And what's your feeling about that?"
"Ah. Well, As long as he's not pushing his drugs on anyone."
"And he isn't, is he?"
"No. I don't think so."

Ante sent Bjorn a knowing smile and a nod.

"Well, thank you Katinka," he said. "Thanks a lot."

142

"So, it looks like this Gus guy is a friend of Pedro," Bjorn commented, noticing a Lance Security logo at the bottom of one of the posters in front of Gus' store. "Proud to be associated with Lance Security and Rogue Justice," it said in a banner next to it.
"That's a sinister organization if I ever saw one," Bjorn continued, pointing to the banner. "Rogue Justice, I mean."
"Yeah?" Ante asked. "And what is it?"
"They are hired guns, that's what they are."
"A little like us in other words," Ante commented flippantly.
"Well, not exactly. We don't kill for money."
"Really?"
"No! What is it with you?"
"I mean, if we get orders from Oslo to arrest or kill Jan, for instance, we're not going to do it?"
"Well... But that's different. And it's not going to happen. Is it?"
"I sure hope not. I'd hate to get on the wrong side of him and his thugs."
"Me too."

Having seen enough of Gus' posters, Bjorn turned to the street, looking in both direction from the corner where they were standing. He could see the odd car moving passed the intersection down by the main road. But the road along the crest of the hill was quite deserted. There were a few parked cars here and there, but no one out in the street.

"He even has a shooting range," Ante commented.
"Who?" Bjorn asked.
"Gus."
"Really? Where?"
"Over by the airport, apparently."
"And how do you know?"
"Well, it said on that poster you pointed to. Didn't you read it?"

Bjorn turned to have another look at the poster which had appeared to him as a pure propaganda piece for selling military grade weapons. And now at second glance he saw it immediately. Gus did not only sell guns and security equipment. He provided training too, and the poster made this quite clear.

"Funny how I didn't get that right away," Bjorn commented.
"You're a terrible detective, that's for sure," Ante replied.
"You think so?"
"Yeah, I do," Ante said with a smile. "But lets have a pizza. I'm hungry."

The men crossed the street and walked in the direction of the church.

"So, who is this Gus anyway?" Bjorn asked. "Sounds like an American with a name like that."
"I think he is. He sounds like it, and he looks like an ex-marine. You know, with a crew cut and everything."
"Really? And why is he here? He's not an asylum seeker, surely."
"No. I'm pretty sure he isn't."
"He's part of this whole Mafia thing, isn't he?" Bjorn suggested.
"Mafia?"
"Well, how else would you describe the things going on here?"

Ante didn't reply right away.

"I kind of like this, though," Ante replied.
"You do?"
"Yeah. I don't see anything wrong going on."
"You don't? But that guy is selling weapons over there. Don't you find that a tiny bit creepy? And look! Isn't that David's drug store?"

Bjorn pointed across the street, a little up from where they were walking.

"The sky is not the limit! Isn't that what it says on that board over there?" Bjorn continued.
"Yeah, yeah, it does."
"Isn't that a little odd?"
"Well... It's not like that guy is forcing me to buy his drugs."
"But he's obviously selling drugs, isn't he?"
"Yeah, but he's a pharmacist. What do you expect."
"I'd expect him to sell proper drugs. You know, medicine. Not crap."
"Okay, okay! So this place is in the hands of the Mafia. So what?"
"So what?" Bjorn asked perplexed.
"Yeah? So what? As long as no one is harmed, what do I care?"
"Boy! You  really have spent too much time with Thomas."
"Yeah, I guess I have," Ante said with a smile. "But anyway, here's Peppe's Pizza. Let's have a bite!"

108

Bjorn found a red pen next to the fridge, and noted down the change of schedule on Frank's spreadsheet. Feeling peckish, he proceeded to make himself a ham and cheese sandwich, which he brought with him back into the living room.

There was still nobody there, and the comfy chair was where he left it, squarely in front of the large window by the coffee table. The sleet was giving way to a light drizzle, and there were hardly any snowflakes fluttering around outside. But the drab view had a sombre fascination to it, and Bjorn was happy just siting in the easy chair for a while, munching his sandwich while contemplating the grand silent nothingness of the arctic.

Seemingly out of nowhere, Bjorn was suddenly reminded of the slogan used by David's Pharmacy. "The sky is not the limit," hovered in his head as a quirky thought, and he found himself wondering what the limit is, if not the sky. "What a silly slogan," he thought as he contemplated the absurdity of the quote. "Why would anyone want to go beyond the sky?"

Then, waking up from his meditative state, he realized that the slogan was actually staring him right in the face all along. He had put the Lundby Gazette face down on the coffee table, and the ad for David´s pharmacy was right in front of him, with the slogan as its title.

Having finished his sandwich, Bjorn picked up the newspaper and after a brief look at the ads on the back, he started reading the articles, starting with the front page headline which read: "Will the boom turn to bust?"

The article was all about the spectacular increase in commercial activity that had blessed the little community with plenty of business and job opportunities. And retail had been particularly blessed with ever growing demand for all the cheap products available in the village. People were coming from all over Finnmark county to buy cheap stuff in Lundby, and a new make shift supermarket had been opened in an abandoned warehouse at the port in order to handle the expected all time high influx of shoppers over the weekend. An improvised petrol station had also seen the light of day over at the port.

Entrepreneurs, both local and not so local, were scrambling to take advantage of the unique tax benefits offered in Lundby. However, the article pointed out that the current state of affairs would not likely last for much longer. Competing businesses outside of Lundby were petitioning government agents in Oslo to crack down on the village and level the playing field by introducing tariffs and taxes. And it would be naïve to think that the central government would not act to save and help struggling businesses in Kirkenes, Neiden, and even Alta and Tromso by introducing tariffs, not least because this would add to the coffers of the central government in Oslo.

The article concluded that things would soon become much harder for businesses in Lundby, and that exuberant investments into retail businesses at this point was extremely risky. The retail market could easily be reduced to just a fraction of its current size. And with popular support for such an action from local merchants outside Lundby and ordinary people living far away from the village, unable to take advantage of the great bargains to be had in Lundby, the likelihood of high tariffs being introduced seemed a near certainty.

The article was level headed in many ways, but Bjorn found its aggressive tone towards the government in Oslo surprisingly harsh. The journalist was completely ignoring the fact that the government had actually created Lundby in the first place. Levelling the playing field, as it were, made perfect sense, both from the viewpoint of local disadvantaged businesses and from the viewpoint of the government. And with most people unable to take advantage of the bargains in Lundby, the new regulations would have little political impact. Bjorn agreed with the article's conclusion, but did not see it as necessarily a bad thing, considering how many people would actually be better off by an intervention.

94

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

89

Bjorn looked again over at the table where they were selling drugs. From where he was sitting it all looked quite innocent, and to risk his life in order to stop it seemed right out absurd. However, it would not surprise him if an order to arrest David and Jan, and the two peddlers too, would come from Oslo one day, and was he then really going to risk his life in order to act on such an order? He doubted it. And thinking about it some more, Bjorn thought it an impossible idea. If Oslo ever was to issue an arrest order on those guys, they would have to send a proper SWAT team to do the job. Bjorn and his colleagues were border guards, neither motivated nor trained to deal with dope dealing gangsters.

Bjorn decided to go over to the men's room, both due to a sudden urge to go there, and out of curiosity for the drug dealing. But even as he passed the drug dealers' table, he got no sense that anything very sinister was going on. And on returning to his colleagues' table, he completely forgot about the drug dealers, suddenly being preoccupied by the whereabouts of Frank instead. He hadn't seen Frank in a while, and it struck him as odd that his boss should have completely disappeared, just like that.

"Where is Frank?" Bjorn asked as he sat down with his colleagues again.
"I don't know," Ante answered. "I last saw him in the room with the roulette table. Why don't you go and check, if you're curious?"

Bjorn did not feel like getting up right away, so he remained seated, listening in on his colleagues making plans for next Friday instead, which was what the conversation had moved onto while Bjorn had been away. Both Espen and Thomas were insisting on including bowling as a part of their program, recounting a favourable review by Ola and Per who had started their evening at the newly opened alley.

"We can go bowling before dinner, just like Ola and Per did," Espen suggested. "But where should we go for dinner?"
"I don't know," Ante commented thoughtfully. "There's only Nora's place and Peppe's Pizza. I don't think there's any other place to go... Unless they serve food at the bowling alley. Maybe we could eat there?"
"We could go to Nora's place again," Thomas suggested. "I wouldn't mind a repeat of what we had today."

And from here the discussion went on without much direction or purpose. And Bjorn quickly became restless, and even tired where he was sitting. He felt like going back to the barracks, and he realized once again that he was a good deal older than his colleagues. They were not likely to return to the checkpoint in a long while yet, and yet Bjorn was already starting to long for bed.

Still feeling a little dizzy and nauseous, Bjorn did not feel like drinking more, and with the conversation around the table not interesting him much either, Bjorn excused himself once again, this time to go and look for Frank. And thinking he might as well get some fresh air while he was up, he found his jacket in the pile under Thomas' balloon, and put it on before leaving his colleagues.

However, Frank was nowhere to be found. He was neither in the roulette room nor outside with the smokers. And looking over at the market, still open and busy over in the village square, Bjorn could not see any sign of Frank there either. But the market looked so attractive with its multitude of paraffin lamps and busy stalls that he crossed the road and entered it anyway.

88

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

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

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

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

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

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

Bjorn was speechless.

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

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

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

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

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

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

46

Frank got up from his easy chair, and followed Geir over to the doorway on Geir's way out. Then, sitting down with Espen and John over at the table with the deck of cards ready for their bridge playing session, he asked his colleagues if they had seen the news about Lundby. When they said they hadn't, Frank turned briefly to Bjorn to have him confirm that Lundby had actually been mentioned by name on TV.

"Sure," Bjorn said, still sitting in the sofa with the Gazette in his hand. "But its hardly the first time. It's not like it is a big secret that there is going to be a single asylum seeker centre up here."
"Well, yes and no," Frank retorted. "Compared to the war in Libya, and even the never ending mess in Syria, we're hardly being mentioned."
Bjorn shook his head thoughtfully. "It's not like there is a war going on up here. What is there really to say?"
"So, what did they say on the news," Espen asked, turning to Frank and ignoring Bjorn's rhetorical question.

Frank gave his interpretation of what he had seen, and since it was factually correct, Bjorn did not bother to interfere in the conversation. Instead, he turned his attention once again to his newspaper, only paying scant attention to what his colleagues were saying. From the little he heard, he gathered that both Frank and John were convinced that the Lundby experiment would eventually turn violent, and while Frank sounded rather exited about such an outcome, John sounded fearful. Espen on the other hand could not quite see a violent uprising coming out of such an isolated place. "They would be massacred on their way to Neiden," he said calmly and sensibly. "And if they tried to escape by boat, they would be sunk long before they managed to reach Kirkenes, or any other place for that matter."

"Or they would simply succumb to the cold and starvation," Bjorn thought to himself. "No one will ever successfully escape the village. Certainly not through violent means." And then his thoughts went briefly to the kid from Senegal, and the hopeless situation he and his father had gotten themselves into. "They are not going to get asylum in Norway, and there is no way they will ever get enough money to return to Senegal," he thought. "They are stuck, plain and simple. Imagine, coming from sunny Senegal and then get stuck up here."

Bjorn looked out of the window where he could see no let up in the low hanging clouds drifting in from the Barents Sea. Then, focusing again on his newspaper, he finished the last couple of paragraphs of the article on the bowling alley before leafing idly through two pages of advertisements.

There was no big and immediately recognizable difference in the ads in this copy of the Gazette compared to the previous one. The casino and Pingo were both generously represented, and the casino did not hide the fact that just about anything goes. Gambling and light entertainment was of course the main focus of the ad, but prostitution, and even recreational drugs were hinted at as being available for those seeking such vices. However, the casino ad was put together in such a way that it did not say straight out that this was available. Only a closer look at the ad's collage of images gave the hint of this.

However, smaller, more to the point offerings of sex for money, listed directly under the casino ad added to the general feeling of anything goes. And to Bjorn's surprise, there were even an ad making no secret of their business being recreational drugs. The ad was not very big, and Bjorn might have overlooked it in the previous copy of the Gazette, but the message was unmistakable. "The Sky is Not the Limit," it said. "Get your recreational drugs at David's Pharmacy." A small map indicated that the pharmacy was located next to the church, on the street running parallel to the village square.

There were also all sorts of other small ads in the paper, such as rooms for rent, houses for sale, and various taxi and delivery services, but none of this came as any big surprise to Bjorn who had seen first hand the hustle and bustle in and around the village square. But an ad shamelessly promoting recreational drugs was something Bjorn had never seen before.