33

Bjorn was about to ask Ane for her opinion on the captain's vision of Lundby as a miniature China when Geir broke off the budding conversation.

"As I was saying," Geir interjected, giving the captain a stern look from under his hood. "This whole place will be shut down if you fail to observe the rules."
"Yes, I think I got that by now," the captain answered, clearly irritated with the man.
"But, and this is important," Geir continued, ignoring the captain's remark. "If you do your policing well, and manage to foil an attempt by the asylum seekers to escape, we will reward you for your diligence."
"Is that so? And what sort of reward would that be?"
"It depends on the scale of the break out. You can read all about it in our rules and regulations."
"So I can make money by catching someone trying to escape?" the captain persisted, suddenly interested in what Geir had to say.
"You can," Geir confirmed with a self important smile. "It pays to know the rules of the game, you know."
"Interesting..."

The captain looked over at Ane who nodded in confirmation. Having actually read the rules, she sent the captain a knowing smile, as if to say "I know what you are thinking." Then she turned to Geir, asking him if this would be all.

"Yes, I think we've covered all now," Geir confirmed. "And remember to keep anyone doing business with you informed of the rules and regulations. We don´t want any mishaps, do we?"
"No, we don´t," Ane replied. Then, turning to the captain she continued. "I'll let you know when the fish is ready to be loaded back on board. I'll be in my office if you need to talk to me."

Ane gestured in the direction of the gated fence at the end of her property, before leading Geir and Bjorn away from the fishing boat. The three walked in silence before stopping at the gate. Then, just as Ane was about to let the two out, she turned to Bjorn, asking him if he would like to help the refugees by contributing to the local charity.

"What do you mean?" Bjorn asked, puzzled by her remark.
"Well, you´re concerned about the refugees' well being, are you not?"
"Yes... But..."
"And you, just like me, are making a living from looking after these people."
"Yes... But I'm not employing them, am I."
"Exactly, so you are making money from their misery without contributing one penny to their well being."
"Hey... I'm paid by the state. I'm just doing my job. You are the one exploiting these people."
"Really?" Ane asked with her cold deliberate stare.

Ane unlocked the gate and let the two men out. Then she continued. "If you change your mind, you can go up there to make your contribution to their charity." Ane pointed in the direction of the church, partially visible from where they were standing. "Who knows, you may need their help one day yourself."

32

Stepping outside, Bjorn and Ane were met with shrieking seagulls and a light drizzle. Geir, talking to the captain over by the boat, had pulled the hood of his green army jacket up over his head to avoid the wetness drifting in from the fjord. The captain, perfectly covered from top to toe by thick water resistant gear, looked unimpressed by the weather, and even less impressed by Geir who was clearly in the middle of some mind numbing monologue.

Quickly reaching for his hood to cover his head, Bjorn walked over to the boat with Ane by his side, with Ane tilting her head somewhat to keep the drizzle from getting in her face. With her hat functioning as a small umbrella, and the trench coat keeping the rest of her dry, she was almost as well protected against the weather as the captain who lit up the moment he caught sight of her.

"Ah, there you are!" The captain exclaimed, breaking Geir off mid sentence in whatever he was lecturing. "As you can see, we have finished unloading, and I'm wondering how long it will be before you're ready with our fish?"
"Well, we are already stacking up the finished product over by the gate," Ane said with a proud smile. "We're probably ready in another two hours."
"Great! That leaves us with plenty of time to clean the hull, and even go for a quick visit to the village. I have not been here for ages."

Ane made a short pause, looking around and sending a quick glance up in the air to observe the birds circling overhead.

"Nothing has changed," she said returning her glance to the captain. "Yet everything is different. You´ll like it though. The place is full of optimism."
"So I've heard..."

There was another short pause, and Bjorn, curious to learn more about Ane's business used the opportunity to ask the captain about the fish.

"So you are taking the processed fish with you?" Bjorn asked. "Where to?"
"The fish depot in Kirkenes," the captain answered happy to explain. "You won't believe this, but we used to send this fish to China by plane to have it processed, and then returned to Bergen for distribution. Now, thanks to Ane, we can get the fish processed right here in Norway. It saves us a lot of back and forth. And I fetch a better price for my fish."
"To China? That makes no sense. Why?"
"It was cheaper that way. Labor cost here in Norway is so high that sending the fish half way across the world for processing actually made sense. Until Ane opened this business, that is. This colony is going to be like a little China one day."
"You think so?" Bjoen asked genuinely curious to hear the captain's view.
"Sure! With labor practically free, this place will be like a tiny China right here at the edge of the world."

29

By the time Geir and Bjorn were back by the fishing boat, Ane had gone inside, presumably to take care of some business. The two men stopped and looked around, and Geir took up his usual self important pose as he observed the activity around the boat with a critical eye. Then he shook his head as if in quiet despair over the ignorance displayed by the fishermen. "No, no, no," he mumbled before turning to Bjorn. "You see how they drop the crates too close to the line?"

"Yeah, almost on top of it," Bjorn answered, again worried that his ignorance of the rules might be exposed.
"Exactly. It leaves no room for the workers to get behind the crates without crossing the line. We can't have that."
"No, that will only encourage them to break the rules." Bjorn ventured, again trying to make himself sound knowledgeable.
"Exactly. I seriously doubt that the captain is properly familiar with how things have to be done when doing business here in Lundby."

Then, after a short pause, Geir continued: "Why don't you go in and tell Ane that everything is in order, but that she has to be more insistent on other people, like this captain, doing things properly too. I'll straighten out these fishermen in the meantime."

Bjorn suspected that Geir had grown so irritated with Ane that he disliked the idea of confronting her again, and that this was the true reason behind Geir's suggestion. But Bjorn had only grown more fascinated with the woman, and was more than happy to have another chance to talk to her, so he accepted Geir's suggestion without hesitation. He headed for the nearest gate, pushed through the heavy plastic strips, and immediately caught sight of Ane down at the end of the production line. She was busy explaining something to one of the workers, and not wanting to disturb her while in the middle of whatever she was talking about, he stopped at a discreet distance, just close enough to make it abundantly clear that he was waiting in line for her.

Taking another full view of the processing plant, Bjorn's attention was again drawn to the production line where water and fish gut littered the floor. Two men, each with a hose, were spewing the mess towards open drains where it dropped down and slithered out of sight. The fish gut was clearly sprayed directly down into the water below, which explained why the seagulls that had first circled the fishing boat, had in increasing numbers disappeared in under the quay with their shrill shrieks and aggressive presence.

However, other seagulls had flocked to the quay from all around, and their total number had reached unpleasant levels outside. If it had not been for the plastic curtains in front of the gates, the factory floor would probably have been full of the pesky aggressive birds by now, and the whole processing business would have been impossible.

28

Ane led the way down the stairs and across the factory floor. Wearing a water proof trench coat and a broad-rimmed hat she looked like someone taken straight out of a western movie. However, her outfit was in no way covering up her feminine appearance, and she made no effort to appear masculine in any way. Her long dark hair flowed freely down her back, and she moved with a natural elegance matching her stature and gender. If anything, her outfit only served to highlight her femininity.

The factory floor was teeming with activity. Not only were groups of workers hauling fish into the factory from outside, groups of women were already manning the conveyor belts, processing and packaging fish. They were all dressed in white water tight gowns and wearing thick orange gloves to protect their hands from the cold and the water.

Three groups of women, each sitting at the head of a conveyor belt on the receiving end of the production line, were busy gutting the fish and cleaning it with liberal amounts of water before tossing it onto the conveyor belt in front of them, sending the fish on its way down to a point where the conveyor belts merged and dropped the it onto a single belt.

The single belt was in turn manned by another group of women who picked up the clean fish and put it into crates, carefully arranging the fish, tail to head for optimal packaging. And every time a woman had filled a crate, she released it from her station by pulling a small lever, allowing it to move across a series of rollers to its final destination while she put another empty crate in front of her to repeat the process.

A small group of workers manned the final station where the crates rolled onto a large electronic scale to be weighed and labelled, after which the workers covered the fish in crushed ice and sealed it off for transportation.

"We really need a fork lift," Ane remarked as she led Bjorn and Geir past the second conveyor belt where two women and a small Asian man were struggling with four crates of fish stacked on top of each other. "I wish grandpa hadn´t sold the one we had."
"Your grandpa?" Bjorn enquired, curious to learn more about Ane´s connection to the place.
"Yeah, he had to sell it of course. The poor man was stabbed in the back."
"Really?"
"Well, not literally of course. But he was promised all sorts of subsidies and help from Oslo, and it never materialized. He sank his fortune into this, and it was all for nothing, until now that is... But that is of little comfort to him now... He would have loved to see this place up and going again, though."

Coming out on the quay in front of the plant, Ane switched the subject back to the rules and regulations that were the sole purpose of Bjorn and Geir´s visit. A yellow line was painted on the concrete surface, parallel to the waterside, and now that it was pointed out to him, Bjorn could see that the line stretched the entire length of the quay down to the fence with the barbed wire. He must have seen it when he entered the area, but must have overlooked it completely, not understanding the significance of it.

To Bjorn´s surprise, Geir wasted no time pulling out a measuring tape from his pocket, handing the lip of it to Bjorn and asking him to hunch down and place it at the land side of the yellow line. Taken a little aback by the suddenness of Geir's action, Bjorn nevertheless did as he was told and hunched down next to line. Geir on his side rolled out the tape to measure the distance to the edge of the quay, and it was clear that Geir was taking the business of inspecting the premises way more seriously than Bjorn had imagined.

Realizing that it was becoming increasingly clear that he himself had no idea about the exact wording of the rules, Bjorn tried to make himself sound at least remotely informed by commenting on the measurement that Geir read out loud.

"Two meters exactly," Bjorn said. "That´s good."
"Good? That leaves no margin at all."
"True!" Bjorn confirmed, and guessing the rule´s exact wording, he added "it should be at least two meters."
"Right! Some people go about these rules as if they prescribe exact measurements. Operating with such tight margins makes it damn hard to know if the rule is properly followed." Geir gave Ane a stern glance as he said this. "Come on, Bjorn, lets measure the line a bit further up."

The two men walked first down towards the fence, making several measurements, and then back up away from the fence, quietly ignoring Ane as they passed her. However, every measurement came in at exactly two meters, which clearly irritated Geir who kept repeating how such pedantic accuracy makes life hard for inspectors such as himself.

Finally giving up on trying to find a place where the line might be too close to the edge, Geir straightened up, giving the line a good hard look, before asking Bjorn if he had seen anyone crossing the line.

"No. Everyone seems to be following the rules," Bjorn replied, pleased to have another chance to pretend that he had actually read the rules.
"It looks indeed as if everything is in order," Geir continued, barely able to hide his irritation with Ane and her pedantic accuracy in drawing the line for the no go zone.

Bjorn could not muster much sympathy for Geir, though, and turned his attention instead to several box-like living units. The wooden barracks, placed next to the factory and stacked two levels high, were dwarfed by the protective rock along which the quay was built. They looked tiny and flimsy, and Bjorn wondered out loud about the plight of the workers, hoping to change the topic away from the yellow line that was absorbing all of Geir's attention.

"So this is where Ane keeps her cattle," Bjorn remarked, pointing to the living units.
"Cattle?" Geir responded, not getting what Bjorn was driving at.
"The workers," Bjorn corrected. "The barracks are for the workers, aren't they?"
"Yeah, I guess so. Why?" Geir asked, starting to walk back towards the fishing boat.
"Don´t you think it a little suspicious?" Bjorn insisted, tagging along with Geir.
"Well, what did you expect? Ane can´t very well let the poor buggers freeze to death, can she?"

26

The fishing boat that Bjorn had seen heading for Lundby was already unloading fish when Geir parked the car by the village square, and it was still busy doing so when the two men approached the fish processing plant. A tall fence with barbed wire on top separated the fish processing plant from the rest of the quay. A sign with "Private property, no guns allowed" written in large letters, and with a round sign of a gun with a line through it displayed next to the text, was clearly visible next to the gate. And the gate itself had another sign placed squarely at eye level with the message "Private property, trespassers will be shot," all in English rather than Norwegian.

"Private property, eh?" Bjorn said with a smile, as Geir pressed the button for the bell.
Geir responded with a solemn nod. "Privately run concentration camps. What will they think of next?"

A small Asian woman appeared in the doorway of the processing plant´s main building. Seeing the men standing by the gate, she quickly ran over to them to let them in.

"You must be from the check point?" she said in slightly broken English as she let the two in.
"Yes we are," Geir replied straightening himself up as to make himself even taller relative to her.
"No guns allowed! Put your guns over here pleace," the woman explained, pointing to a shed, next to the fence.
"We have no guns," Geir replied with a confident smile. "We are only here to inspect the premises and talk to the manager."
"Yes, I know. She told me to bring you straight to her office."

The woman was shivering in the cold and eager to show the men into the processing plant, walking quickly in front of them back to the door where she first appeared. However, the temperature was hardly any better inside the large building. It was built entirely out of corrugated iron plates, and two gates on the long wall facing the fishing boat were wide open to let a large number of people, mainly women, get the fish into the plant. If it had not been for curtains of heavy plastic strips hanging in front of the open gates, there would have been absolutely nothing separating the inside of the plant from the elements. The building was nothing but a huge shed with no internal walls, except for a small office with large windows, placed on a platform up against the long wall away from the quay.

The Asian woman showed the men the way across the factory floor and up the metal staircase to the office. Knocking politely at the door before entering, she introduced the two men to her boss, a woman sitting in a chair behind a large desk. The outside wall behind her was covered by dark brown panelling, flimsily built and with insulation material sticking out and clearly visible at the edges. Warm air hit the men as they entered, but the sight of the woman surprised Bjorn so much that he hardly noticed. In front of him sat the young woman he had seen on the ferry, and she was looking at him and Geir with the same cold glance that she had used to keep him from engaging in any small talk back then.

An AK-47 assault rifle was hanging on display on the panelled wall behind her, as to make it absolutely clear that she would not tolerate any kind of dissent among her employees, and when she rose from her office chair to give the two men a handshake, a large heavy revolver could be seen hanging in a western-style gun belt, strapped around her waist, and tied against her thigh.

"You must be Bjorn and Geir," she said as she leaned forward, across the desk, to shake the men´s hands. "I´m Ane. I run this place."

23

Bjorn got up early the next day, repeating the little routine from the day before, aiming to avoid his colleagues as much as possible. But this time he came across Ante drying himself off in the bathroom, which made Bjorn uncomfortable. The whole communal bathroom thing bothered him, and he could sense that Ante was not overly happy about having to share the room either.

Bjorn tossed a quick glance at the clock hanging over the frosted glass window, noting the time so as not to repeat this minor blunder again. Then he greeted Ante politely while making a mental note of the time, quickly calculating that he should aim to use the showers between 7:15 and 7:30 in the future in order to have the place to himself. Proceeding to brush his teeth in silence, Bjorn let Ante get dressed without further interruption.

The relief Bjorn felt when Ante left the room was surprisingly intense. Bjorn was quite shocked over his own discomfort with the situation, and worried for a moment that Ante's reaction was due to his own feelings rubbing over at him. Ante was clearly in a hurry to get out and leave Bjorn alone, and this triggered again the self conscious discomfort that had been bothering Bjorn the day before. But once again, the uncomfortable feeling was soon forgotten, and by the time he met Ante in the kitchen for breakfast, it was as if the awkward situation had never happened.

Bjorn repeated his quick intake of breakfast in the same fashion as the day before, and got out of the barracks just in time to avoid Thomas and Espen. Drawing the last few puffs from his cigarette, he greeted John in the glass cage several minutes ahead of schedule, which put a smile on John's face. And tossing aside the butt of the cigarette, Bjorn went through the brief formality with of getting the keys to the gun rack, and relieving John of his morning shift.

John wasted no time, and quickly disappeared out of sight, heading for the breakfast table, while Bjorn put his thermos in the same place as the day before. "How quickly things become a routine," Bjorn wondered as he sat down in the comfortable office chair, once again taking in the magnificent view from the glass box. An intense feeling of well being surged in him as he took a first sip of his coffee, turned on the radio, and zoned out in front of the view.

There had been no nightmare haunting him during the night, and Bjorn was looking forward to a short day in the glass cage, followed by a bit of adventure, as he would soon be on his way to Lundby to assist Geir in inspecting the fish processing plant.

The day promised to be overcast but dry with temperatures again dipping below freezing, and Bjorn was again struck by the myriads of grey tones, and the complete lack of colours in the scenery, with distant houses and the occasional red or yellow car as the only exceptions.

Keeping an eye out for the ferry entering and leaving the bay every two hours, Bjorn caught sight of a fishing boat entering the bay roughly an hour before he was scheduled to go down to Lundby. It glided into the bay, heading straight for the village, tranquil and determined as it plowed through the smooth waters, leaving a trail of expanding disturbances behind it. Bjorn followed the boat lazily with his eyes while sipping his coffee, finding the sight pleasantly soothing and meditative at first, but realizing that the boat was bringing fish to the processing plant he was filled with a growing sense of excitement as the boat got closer to the village as it served as a reminder of Bjorn's imminent assignment to go down to the village.
 
By the time Thomas appeared in the doorway of the glass office, roughly at the same time the fishing boat disappeared behind the near hill of the village, Bjorn was all worked up and ready to go. He handed the keys impatiently over to Thomas, bid him goodbye, and hurried over to the barracks to hook up with Geir.