194

"What John is saying," Frank ventured. "Is that we're all born into society, and that we therefore have an obligation to obey by the rules of society. It's not like we're born into a vacuum. Nobody is suggesting that the social contract is an actual contract. It's only a metaphor for the fact that we are part of society."
"Yeah? And who sets the rules of society?" Thomas asked, not at all deterred by Frank's attempt at ending the discussion.
"Well... We do. We, together, are society."
"You and me set the rules?"
"Yeah."
"So, what's the government for?"
"The government?" Frank asked confused. "Well, that's us. We are the government."
"No we're not."

Frank took a sip of his wine. "Well, that's where you are mistaken," he said with confidence. "However, since we can't all be busy governing the land all the time, we have elected representatives who work for us."
"And who came up with this arrangement?" Thomas asked.
"We did. It's the way we've chosen to organize things," Frank replied. "Everybody knows this. It's hardly news, is it?"
"It's news to me," Thomas answered with a grin. "I can't remember agreeing to such an arrangement."

Frank sighed and shook his head. "That's because you signed on to it when you were born. It's the social contract."
"Exactly," Thomas answered triumphantly. "The social contract is not about us and society. It's about us and our so called representatives."
"Whom we elect every four years," John added.
"Sure," Thomas agreed. "But the legal basis for this is still the social contract. The social contract is more than just a metaphor. It's a legal construct. Yet, no one has ever signed such a document. I never gave my consent to be governed by our so called representatives in Oslo."
"What about the constitution?" Espen suggested.
"I never signed that either. It was written and signed by a bunch of self serving elitists, all dead long ago. How the hell can that be considered legally binding for me? I never met any of those guys."

There was a pause of silence, which Frank and Thomas used to catch up on their eating.

"So what's your suggestion?" John asked, looking over at Thomas as he shoved food into his mouth.
"I'm suggesting we make this whole government thing voluntary," Thomas said with his mouth full. "I suggest you sign onto the Norwegian state, since you like it so much. And then I can sign onto whatever I find convenient and appropriate for me."
"Like what?" John asked.
"Like Canada or Switzerland or... well... maybe nothing. Or I might go for an insurance with Pedro."
"With Pedro? You mean that guy down in the village?"
"Yeah, sure, why not?"

Everyone chuckled at the thought. "And how is that going to work?" Frank asked with a grin.
"Simple," Thomas answered undeterred by his colleagues. "I pay my dues to Pedro, and you guys pay your dues to Oslo. Why would that be a problem?"
"It won't work," Frank said.
"Why not?"
"Imagine the overhead," Espen suggested.
"What overhead?"
"What if we get in a fight or something. Who's rules are we going to follow?"
"That's for Pedro and your representatives in Oslo to figure out."
"Exactly!" Frank noted. "That's why it won't work."
"Not true," Thomas answered defiantly. "This kind of thing happens all the time. It's called international law, and it works fine for corporations. Why shouldn't it work fine for people too?"

There was another pause in the discussion. Then, Thomas answered his own question. "You know why it won't work?" he asked rhetorically. "Because they don't want it to work. They don't really want us to be free to pick and choose our security arrangements. They want to control us. That's why it wont work. Not because it cannot be done, but because they won't let it happen."

193

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

184

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

181

Bjorn made a few more attempts to change his profile at the Blacklist, but there were simply no way to change anything of significance. At best, he could change his name, but his real name would still be listed as one of his nicknames. There was no way to get rid of his real name, and no way to get rid of his contact details. His initial feeling of shock on discovering that he was stuck, gradually morphed into a lingering irritation with the site. Its refusal to let him remove his profile was in such blatant disregard of generally accepted rules. Surely, he had the right to remove his profile. Refusing him this right was clearly against the law.

The Blacklist, claiming to support the law of the so called empire, was breaking his right to privacy, and Bjorn found this both ironic and arrogant to the extreme. He looked around on the page in front of him to see if he could find out who might be the responsible owner. And there, at the bottom of the page he found a link to someone called Vinod. "That's it!" Bjorn thought to himself. "Now, let's sue him for everything he got!"

Bjorn clicked on the link, and somewhat to his surprise, he was not sent to a different site. He was simply presented with Vinod's profile on the Blacklist. It was reminiscent of Maria's profile in that it was rich in text and complete with a picture of Vinod himself, an Indian looking guy, proudly presenting himself as the owner and developer of the Blacklist.

Going down to the list at the bottom of Vinod's profile, Bjorn saw that the man had already managed to get himself into a dispute with three users over a privacy issue, and sensing that this dispute might be related to what he himself was going to write, Bjorn clicked on the case.

Bjorn read quickly through the complaint, which was marked as resolved, and realized that it was in fact identical to what he was planning to post. Bjorn was not the only one frustrated with the fact that he could not remove his profile. The three plaintiffs were just as frustrated with Vinod as Bjorn was. But the plaintiffs had lost the case. Maria had closed it with a remark saying that there is no such thing as a right to privacy.

Bjorn could hardly believe his eyes, but there it was. Maria had come out in favor of Vinod, and had closed the case. Bjorn moved his mouse over the status field and saw to his surprise that he could re-open the issue. Bjorn clicked on it and was presented with a comment field where he was required to make a legal argument, disputing Maria's closing argument.

"Oops, I'm getting ahead of myself again," Bjorn thought, panicky and closing the comment field almost as soon as it had popped up. "I better not do anything rash." Then he proceeded to read Maria's closing argument in detail.

"There is no such thing as a right to privacy," it read. "There are only property rights, and the data typed into the Blacklist are residing on Vinod's server, and are therefore Vinod's property. The so called right to privacy is actually a feature of property rights, and not a right in itself. Every person has an absolute right to privacy in their own home, because they have an absolute right to their property. The right to privacy cannot extend to other people's property, unless contractually extended by the rightful owner of said property. But Vinod has not extended such a right to the users of his website. In fact, everyone opening an account at the Blacklist had to agree to the conditions that explicitly stated that all data stored on the Blacklist belongs to the owner of the Blacklist. All data stored on the Blacklist belongs to Vinod. He can do with it what he pleases. And that includes his refusal to delete it."

Bjorn read Maria's comment with a sinking feeling of loss. He had indeed checked off on the warning when he in all haste opened his account, foolishly thinking that it was of little or no consequence. But he knew, even then, that the Blacklist was no ordinary website. He just assumed that it had to abide by the generally accepted rules and laws governing the internet. As it turned out, his assumption was wrong, and now that he had read Maria's final argument, it was evident that Vinod was not obliged to change the way the website worked, at least not according Maria's legal standards.

Bjorn moved the mouse over the list of plaintiffs. Then, as he let the marker hover over their names, a comment box appeared. "This case is close, but you can still join the plaintiffs if you agree with their case," it read. "Well, that's one way to register my dissatisfaction with the system," Bjorn thought. He clicked on the list. Then, when asked if he wanted to join the plaintiffs, he responded by clicking the OK button.

179

Bjorn looked up from his PC and reached for his ham sandwich. He felt agitated by Maria's words, and frustrated with the fact that he could not find a good counter argument. He had initially thought of Hitler and the Holocaust as the perfect proof of Maria's error. But he could not use it without either sounding silly or insinuating that the foreign minister was somehow comparable to Hitler.

Bjorn took a bite of his sandwich. "Surely, Hitler was responsible for the Holocaust," he thought. "Yet, Maria is right too. The executioners were the ones doing the killing, not Hitler himself, and there would have been no Holocaust without them."

But on the other hand, Hitler knew he wielded the power of authority, and he used it to kill. Surely, that was a crime. He held a magic spell, as it were, over his followers, and he ordered them to kill. However, this argument would only hold in a system where authority is a legal entity. It also assumes that Hitler's followers were indeed under some sort of spell and unable to think for themselves. To hold Hitler responsible for the Holocaust, it is necessary to appeal to the authority argument and assume his followers to be some sort of automates, unable to think or feel. In Maria's system, authority is not a legal entity and everybody is assumed to have free will. Maria, it turns out, has no way to blame Hitler for the Holocaust because she is denying herself the key assumptions necessary to argue in that direction.

Bjorn felt pleased with himself for having identified the source of Maria's standpoint. He took another bite of his ham sandwich. And while munching it, he could not help giving Maria credit for having at least applied her principles consistently. She had not treated Ane in any way different from the foreign minister. In Maria's world it was the fighter pilots that were responsible for the death's in Libya, and it was Ane's workers that were responsible for polluting the waters around her factory.

"But that's fascism," Bjorn thought to himself. "To blame the little guy for just doing his job while letting the big fish off the hook is no way to run a legal system." Bjorn could not quite believe that Maria was sincere in what she was saying. Going after the little guy, the way she did, could not possibly be out of any sense of justice. This woman was motivated by something far less honorable than justice, and considering her relationship to the local drug lord, it seemed quite obvious that she was really just out to protect her husband. She was sucking up to the foreign minister as a return favor for protecting David. "And why not consistently argue on behalf of the rich and the powerful?" Bjorn thought. "If you already sold your soul to the devil, you might as well get as much out of it as you possibly can."

Then the full scope of Maria's sinister plot suddenly dawned on Bjorn, and it was clear why he had reacted with such anger on reading her comments. Maria was going to hold Bjorn fully responsible for any and all actions committed in the line of duty. Bjorn was the little guy, and he would be held personally responsible for any damage or loss he might cause while merely doing his job. If he shot anybody, and it was not self defense, Maria would charge him with murder. If he confiscated anyone's property, he would be charged with theft.

Bjorn was not angry with Maria due to her apparent defense of Hitler. Bjorn was angry and frustrated with her because she was going to argue against him if he ever was to break the golden rule. Bjorn would not be allowed to use the argument that he was just following orders.

178

Bjorn poured himself another cup of coffee, not at all convinced by Maria's arguments. By her logic, people like Hitler would be innocent. After all, he never killed anyone himself.

Bjorn felt suddenly provoked and angry with Maria's arguments, and he had a strong urge to comment on Maria's line of thought, pointing out its obvious flaw. But only registered users could comment, so he was left to simmer with frustration over the ignorance of the woman. Unable to contribute with a rebuttal, he felt the anger swell in him. Suddenly he felt convinced that he had the ultimate counter argument at hand. And he just had to get himself an account on the Blacklist to post this for everybody to see. Letting this woman get away with her nonsense, was just too much to bare. Not least because the woman was obviously influencing people with her flawed logic.

Bjorn opened an account with the Blacklist, filling in the required fields only. He had no desire to say much about himself. All he wanted to do was to post his killer argument against Maria's nonsense. But when he returned to the case against the foreign minister, he got second thoughts. Maria had after all defended a representative of the Norwegian government. Being himself a representative of the government, he could hardly start arguing for the prosecution of the foreign minister. He had to find some other place to post his argument, so he clicked on Maria's name to see what other cases she was commenting on.

There was no lack of cases that Maria had commented on, but the list was confusing, with only titles and status shown. There was no good way to know which one to choose. He recognized the case against the head of the child protection services in Alta, but that was as hopeless a place to post Bjorn's argument as the case against the foreign minister. Bringing up Hitler and the Holocaust in either of these cases would not do. He had to find a case against some private individual, and use his argument there.

Bjorn took another sip of his coffee. Then he recognized the case against Ane and the fish waste she was dumping into the water under her factory. The case was resolved, but that didn't necessarily mean that the comment field was closed. And, with her being an authority figure, Maria might have used her flawed logic there too. Bjorn clicked on the case, hoping to find it an opportune place to put his rebuttal.

Bjorn browsed through the case and the first few comments until he got to the point where Maria had commented that the plaintiffs had no case against Ane as long as there was no damage made to their properties. But Ane was fighting an uphill battle against Jan and Pedro, with the men arguing that they would rather see Ane come up with a solution before any damage was made. If she persisted in dumping fish waste into the fjord, this would surely result in a pollution problem at some point, and then they would demand generous compensation for the damage caused.

At that point, Maria made the comment that Ane was not in fact spewing fish waste into the waters below her factory. This task was done by one or more of her employees. Ane was innocent of any pollution coming from her factory as long as she was not personally doing the polluting. The case should not be made against Ane, but the employees doing the dumping.

"But that's insane," Bjorn thought as he read this. "The poor workers are probably not even aware of the fact that they are doing anything wrong. You can't hold them responsible for this. They are just doing their job." And Bjorn was not the only one reacting as he did. Ane made the very same argument, to which Maria responded that it nevertheless was the case, and that she was putting her employees at risk of being prosecuted if she did not do anything about the situation.

Following up on Maria's comment, Jan told Ane that he would inform all her workers of the risk they were taking. He would print fliers and distribute them among her workers so that no one would be able to claim ignorance. Every worker would know that they may be stranded with colossal fees unless they stop the dumping immediately. And this threat, Jan figured, would most likely set an immediate stop to the dumping. Ane, in his opinion, had no choice but to find a solution to the problem.

What followed was a brief exchange of messages relating to practical issues and conditions required for Ane to continue her business until Sunday when she suggested a meeting with Jan and Pedro to resolve the problem. They all agreed to meet after church, and to let Ane continue her business as normal until then.

On reading this, Bjorn remembered how Ane had approached Jan and Pedro after mass on Sunday. And whatever they had agreed had proved to be fruitful since the case was closed that same evening. There was no explanation to what the three had agreed on, but the case was resolved. The threat against Ane's employees had made her fold, and the case had ended in some kind of compromise.

Bjorn wondered what they may have decided, but he quickly realized that the possibilities were practically limitless. It could have been anything from a joined ownership of the factory, to some practical solution pertaining to the waste itself. Maybe Ane had to pay some monthly fee, or give the men a cut of the profit. There was really no way to tell, and no point in speculating.

Then, looking at the comment field at the bottom of the page, Bjorn realized that his argument would be completely misplaced on this thread. The case was resolved. Threatening to sue Ane's employees had proven successful. To mention Hitler and the Holocaust on this thread would simply make him look like a complete moron.

Bjorn felt suddenly lost. His killer argument was not as good as he had thought. In fact, it was a stupid argument. And he knew what Maria would answer. She would simply repeat herself, saying that being a psychopath is not a crime. Just as following orders is no defense, giving orders is no crime. The crime is not what a psychopath says, but what the executioners do.

177

Bjorn read through Maria's comment once more. "That's just stupid," he thought. "Who do these guys think they are?" He chuckled at the very idea of bringing the foreign minister to trail in Lundby. But then, remembering that the foreign minister owned one of the luxury apartments down by the fjord, he realized that he could indeed become somewhat inconvenienced if he had a feud with the locals. Such a feud might make it difficult or impossible to use his apartment.

Bjorn clicked on the link to the case Maria was referencing, curious to know what the minister was charged with, and why Maria was defending the man. "It might all be nonsense, of course," Bjorn thought. "But even if it was, it would surely reveal something interesting about the village, and the sort of things they might one day be up to."

Bjorn half expected some local issue being presented to him, but was not surprised when he saw that the case against the foreign minister was related to the war in Libya, and had nothing to do with Lundby. A large number of Libyan individuals had signed up as plaintiffs against the minister, charging him of mass murder. The plaintiffs sought retribution for the death of their loved ones, all killed during the Libyan war.

The list of names of victims was long. More than two hundred names to be exact, all documented with names, dates of birth, pictures and a description of how and when they met their untimely end. Bjorn clicked on a few links, and some of the images coming up were truly horrific. Some of the victims had been burned alive in the firestorm caused by the bombs dropped on them. And many of the victims were clearly civilians. Children and babies were listed among them.

The case against the foreign minister was not some quick hack. It was detailed and extensive. And with so many civilians among the victims, the call for retribution seemed entirely reasonable, all be it a little far fetched. Political figures are generally immune against this kind of charges, after all. Certainly if the victims can be described as collateral damage, unintended deaths in the heat of battle.

But, reading through Maria's comments, Bjorn was surprised to find that Maria's defense of the minister was not based on the idea that the deaths were simply regrettable consequences of war. Not a single place did Maria argue that the fact that these victims died during a war, made the case invalid. Rather, she argued that the foreign minister was innocent because he had not in fact killed anyone. He had given an order to kill, but he had not killed anyone himself.

Bjorn was baffled by the argument, but it made perfect sense. Maria pointed out that the law of the Fifth Empire does not include the concept of authority. Following orders is no defense. And the flip side of this is that giving orders is not a crime. "Any psychopath can order the execution of people," Maria argued. "But the crime lies not in the order. It lies in its execution. Bring us the executioners, and we will judge them according to their crime."

Maria closed the case by asking the plaintiffs to list the names of the pilots, and bring the charges against them rather than the foreign minister, because they were in fact the murderers. Only when the correct defendants were identified would she consider opening the case again.

"But how do we know who killed whom?" asked one of the plaintiffs, as he objected to Maria's position. "That is entirely unimportant," she answered. "All we need to know is whether or not they flew to Libya with the intent to drop their deadly cargo. If they did, then clearly some sort of retribution is warranted, even if we never get to know the exact link between the victims and the executioners."

There were several objections to Maria's position on the legal status of authority, but she met every objection with the argument that the Fifth Empire is based on the fact that each man is equal, and that no godly authority exist between men. "Authority can take no responsibility off of the backs of the perpetrators, and the authority figure is therefore innocent," Maria argued. "Being evil and saying evil is not a crime. Only doing evil is a crime. To say that certain people have more responsibility than others due to their social standing is to assume the existence of authority as a legal entity. No such entity exists, and hence this rule applies to all, no matter their social standing."

The argument that all other legal systems known to man consider authority to be a legal entity was met by a short rebuttal to the effect that this merely shows that those systems are not valid in the empire. "We all live directly under God, whether we like it or not," Maria noted. "No man is above any other in any matter whatsoever. The fact that some men are wiser than others, do not change this. Men do not form legal hierarchies among themselves, even if one is wise and the other is a fool. We must all take full responsibility for our own actions. We must all adhere to the Golden Rule, the one and only law of the empire. And that implies that there is no such thing as authority in the legal sense of the word."

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."

172

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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.

155

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

154

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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."

143

The two men walked up the short foot path from the road to the house that served as a pizza restaurant. The place was a good deal larger than Nora's Place, and a whiff of freshly baked pizza met them in the hallway.

The door had set off a mechanical bell, signalling their arrival, and a young woman came to meet them. But as soon as she saw them, she scurried to the back and disappeared into the kitchen, returning moments later with a large, muscular man in his mid forties.

"So, what can I do for you, gentlemen?" he asked in Norwegian.
"We'd like to have a pizza," Ante replied.
"Here, or to go?"
"Here."
"And what's with the uniform?" the man asked.
"The uniform?"
"Yeah."
"Well, we're from the checkpoint, up the Neiden road."
"What's your assignment?"
"Our assignment?"
"Yeah, why are you here?"
"Well, as I said, we'd like to sit down and have a pizza."
"That's all?"
"And something to drink, maybe? This is a restaurant, right?"
"Yeah of course. So you are not here to arrest anyone?"
"No."

The man looked at Bjorn and Ante with some lingering suspicion.

"Well then," he said. "Please come in. Have a seat!"

He showed Bjorn and Ante into the living room which was furnished much like Nora's Place, with tables of different shapes and sizes.

"Feel free to pick a table," the man said generously. "You can have the table by the window if you wish, if you don't mind waiting for Katinka to clear it first."
"Well, that's great," Ante answered. "We'll wait for Katinka."
"Okay, I'll leave you here then. I got things to do."

The man went back into the kitchen, and was gone.

"I'm sorry about that," Katinka said, immediately getting busy cleaning the table over by the window. "I'll be back with the menus and cutlery in a moment. Please sit down."

Then, Katinka too disappeared into the kitchen, leaving Ante and Bjorn to themselves. With the exception of a couple sitting at a table by the wall, they were the only ones in the restaurant.

"I guess it's not the busiest time of the day," Ante commented on sitting down at the table which was still a little damp from the cloth that Katinka had used to clean it.
"So they got a Peppe's here in Lundby too," Bjorn commented idly on his part. "Imagine that!"
"Yeah. There used to be one in Kirkenes, but they gave up. I wonder if these guys are going to do any better."
"It's a tough business to be in these days, with the crisis and all," Bjorn added, still idly looking around, and out the window.

Katinka appeared with a pizza for the couple by the wall, and headed subsequently over to Bjorn and Ante with two menus.

"You want anything to drink?" she asked.
"Yeah, I'll have a beer," Bjorn replied with a smile.
"Yeah, why not? I´ll have one too," Ante added.
"Okay. Two beers. Any snacks to go with that. Garlic bread? Toasts?"
"No. That's all," Ante replied, looking to Bjorn for confirmation.
"Yeah, just the beer. That's all," Bjorn added.

Katinka went back to the kitchen, leaving the men once again to themselves.

"You're not getting drunk on me again, are you?" Bjorn asked. "And you shouldn't be drinking at all, should you? I mean, you're driving."
"Ah! Just one beer," Ante protested. "I'll switch to water. I swear. Only one beer, and then I'll have water after that."
"Okay," Bjorn said with a smile. "And we better not get stopped by the police on our way home. Even one beer is more than they allow these days."
"Ah, but you forget that this is Lundby. There's no traffic controls here."
"That's true," Bjorn said thoughtfully. "There isn't, is there? That's not going to end well, is it?"
"What you mean?"
"Well, somebody is going to drive into somebody one day. Some drunk driver. Don't you think?"

Ante looked around in the room, as if looking for that drunk driver. Then, he lightened up, seeing Katinka return with two bottles of beer on a tray, together with two small glasses.

"Bottled beer?" Bjorn commented as Katinka poured in some beer in his glass. "I was expecting draught beer."
"Well, I'm sorry, but we only have bottled beer," Katinka replied modestly.
"Super Bock? What is this?" Bjorn continued, as Katinka put the bottle down in front of him.
"It's Portuguese," Ante explained.
"But isn't this Peppe's? I thought they were owned by Ringnes. Isn't that so?"
"Yeah, but you're fine with the beer are you?" Katinka asked.
"Sure! I'm just a little confused."
"Well, it's cheaper and better than Ringnes. Or at least, that's what I've heard," Katinka explained.
"But even then..."
"You know, you really should know when to shut up," Ante interjected with a smile. "We're getting great beer for very little money. What are you complaining about?"
"Okay, but I still find it a bit strange."
"Well, we're not your average Peppe's," Katinka commented politely. "But our pizza is just like the ones you're used to. Are you ready to order?"

The two men looked at each other, and then briefly at the menu.

"Let's just have the Chicago Classic," Bjorn suggested. "It's my favorite."
"A large one?" Katinka asked.
"Yeah, a large one for the two of us."
"Okay, Is that all right for you too?" Katinka asked, looking at Ante.
"Yeah, sure," Ante replied with a friendly smile.

Katinka did not bother to note down the order, heading instead over to the other couple to check with them that all was all right before going back to the kitchen.

"She's not even eighteen, is she?" Bjorn commented the moment she disappeared out of sight.
"No. Probably not."
"And yet she's serving alcohol."
"Yeah?"
"Isn't that against the law?"
"Man! Wake up! You're in Lundby," Ante protested. "Who cares what the law says? She's doing an excellent job, isn't she?"
"She is," Bjorn agreed. "But she's clearly worried about getting arrested. You think it's because of this?"
"Serving alcohol, you mean?" Ante asked redundantly. "Well, I don't think so."
"So, what's going on?"
"I don't know. Does it matter?"
"Well. Aren't you curious?" Bjorn asked.
"If you're so curious, why don't you ask her?" Ante suggested.
"Okay. I think I will. Yeah, I'll do that. For sure."

127

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Let us pray!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Well, I say enough of that!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

125

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Bjorn nodded.

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

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

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

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

Bjorn shook his head.

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

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

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

124

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

123

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

116

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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