156

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Bjorn nodded thoughtfully as he lit his cigarette.

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

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

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

Ante looked at Bjorn momentarily lost for words.

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

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

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

155

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

154

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

121

The village was relatively quiet, but by no means dead. Several market stalls in the village square were open, with their customers a mix of tired night owls and perky early birds.

Ante drove around the square in the direction of the parking lot. But instead of driving up the knoll to park his car he passed it by.

"Let's see if we can find the bowling alley everybody were talking about," Ante said, as he drove past the knoll towards the narrow street leading in behind the casino.

Bjorn nodded, thinking "why not", and started looking for the bowling alley, which turned out to be very easy to find. It was located along the road right behind the casino with a big neon sign above it saying "bowling" in bold letters, with the o drawn in the shape of a bowling ball, and the i and the l shaped as pegs.

The bowling alley was located next to a large shed that served as an auto garage, and with Ante driving slowly passed it, Bjorn had no trouble getting an impression of the place. There were at least three cars in there, and two men were hunched over the engine of one of them, clearly busy at work.

"This place really has everything," Bjorn commented as Ante took another left to get back to the square.
"It does seem so, doesn't it?" Ante agreed. "And to imagine that these people would otherwise have been locked up in the old asylum centres. What a waste of human resources."
"Yeah, you got a point there," Bjorn said with a nod. "It's actually better for everyone, isn't it? Bringing them all up her, I mean."
"Well, I think so anyway. It is a shame the way they have been treated."
"So why do you think they're protesting in places like Lier?"
"Good question. They must be thinking that this is some kind of hell."
"And it is, in a way, isn't it?" Bjorn said cheekily, knowing full well that Ante was rather fond of the arctic.
"Careful now, Bjorn!" Ante replied. "You're talking about my parent's home town. I have fond memories of this place, you know."
"I know. I just couldn't help myself."

Then, as Ante circled the village square a second time, Bjorn noticed the young black boy who had begged for money the other day, still hanging around Pingo where the odd bargain hunter was coming out with trolley loads of stuff. And sure enough, he was already at it, running over to people to offer his help as they came out of Pingo.

"You don't see that much any more do you?" Bjorn wondered out loud as he saw the kid rush over to a man with a full trolley.
"What?" Ante asked.
"Kids offering to help people for a penny or two."
"No, kids stopped doing that long time ago."

Bjorn nodded thoughtfully. He could remember his grandmother telling him about these things still being quite common during her father's time, and wondering whatever happened to that kind of service oriented attitude. So even his grandmother thought it a forgotten habit. Yet, here in Lundby, the olden days were in some respect being revived. Kids were out in the streets looking for ways to make a penny or two.

The desperation caused by the rampant poverty in the village had revived the old and much forgotten habit of always trying to find a way to make a penny.

120

The drive down to Lundby was pleasant but uneventful. Bjorn noted that there were people working on the apartment building by the water, despite it being Sunday. However, there were not as many working there as on a regular weekday. Some people were clearly taking time off, while others were not.

"No wonder that this building is being completed in record time, with so many people working on it all the time," Bjorn commented as they drove past it.
"Yep. They get things done down here," Ante agreed. "It is quite impressive what they have managed to do in such a short period of time."

Then, as they passed the billboard with the ad for the casino, Ante continued with his thoughts.

"You know, it used to take for ever to get anything done down here. My grandparents told me that the fish factory took a full five years to complete in its time. I bet these people could put up a shed like that, complete with machines and all, in less than a month."
"So what's their secret formula, you think?" Bjorn asked.
"Nothing."
"Nothing?"
"Yep. These people don't worry about anything. There is no bureaucracy. There's nothing stopping them."
"And as a result, they are already in a slamming match with each other," Bjorn commented. "You know, Ane is dumping fish waste straight into the water, and the neighbours are anything but pleased. That's the sort of mess you get without any rules or regulations."
"Maybe so, but they sure get things done."

Bjorn had to admit that Ante had a point, but he could not free himself from thinking that this free wheeling anything goes attitude in the end would lead to some pretty unfortunate consequences.

74

They were all in excellent spirits as they stepped out into the cool crispness of the arctic evening. The sun was setting, giving everything around them a warm glow that no doubt further lightened their mood. John too stepped out for a bit of fresh air, even though he was going to stay at the check point to take the night shift after Geir. However, he too seemed festive in his own way, probably taking enjoyment from seeing his colleagues all being so up beat and eager for a night out.

Ante opened the doors of his red sedan by a click of a button on his key, and everybody but John crammed into it, making themselves as comfortable as they could. It being Thomas' birthday, he had the pleasure of taking the seat next to Ante, while Espen had to take the middle seat in the back, being the smallest of the three going in there.

Bjorn, sitting behind Thomas, was suddenly struck by curiosity regarding the cars at the check point, and asked Ante about this as soon as the car started rolling.

"So why are we always using your car?" Bjorn asked leaning a bit in Ante´s direction. "This is your car, right?"
"Yep! This is my car," Ante confirmed. "But it doubles as our shared military vehicle."
"Really?"
"It´s all part of the cuts in the military budget," Frank added helpfully. "They pay Ante a monthly lease instead of giving us one of their own cars. Saves them money, they figure."
"And gives me a bit of extra money to spend," Ante concluded with a smile.

Bjorn leaned back in his seat, pleased with the explanation, and further impressed by Ante's ability to make the most of every opportunity.

"But you managed to convince the guys in Oslo to set up a fence for us anyway," Bjorn asked casually of Frank. "I'm sure that's not going to be cheap."
"Ah! But I'm a master negotiator," Frank answered with a smile. "They are putty in my hands!"

Everybody laughed, and then there was a bit of silence before Espen set the conversation going again.

"Is that your gun?" he asked Frank.
"It sure is!"
"You brought your gun?" Thomas asked, visibly shocked and concerned. Turning in Frank's direction he added "why the hell did you do that?"
"You know what they say," Frank answered with a smug smile, while patting the side of his chest where the contours of his gun could be seen under his thin summer jacket. "When in Rome, do as the Romans."
"Well, we are not going to Rome," Thomas noted dryly.
"But we are going to Lundby. And they are all a bunch of gangsters down there, aren't they?"
"Which suits you perfectly it seems," Thomas added, still dismayed by Frank's decision.

There was again silence among the colleagues. But this time it did not take long before Espen broke it with another question.

"I thought it was against the rules to take arms into the village," he asked.
"Not anymore," Frank answered with a triumphant smile. "In fact, we are from now on always going to carry guns with us when in uniform, and this includes times spent on duty in the village. And there are no restrictions regarding guns when going down there as civilians, as we do now."

There was again a bit of silence, this time to let the news sink in. Then, Bjorn asked when Frank had put on the gun, since he did not see Frank wearing it while in the living room.

"I made a snap decision to put it on when I went up to get my jacket," Frank replied helpfully. "I couldn't resist it, actually. And I figure we might as well start broadcasting the message right away, that we're not going to take any abuse from anyone laying down."

42

Geir paid for the petrol with Ante's debit card. The man operating the pump, typed in the price to be paid on a small handheld device, and all Geir had to do before leaving the petrol station was to type in the pin code to execute the transaction.

"It's not really Ante's debit card, is it?" Bjorn asked as Geir drove back into the street. "It's more like a common card for all of us at the check point, for groceries and petrol and stuff, isn't it?"
"Yeah, I guess I shouldn't call it Ante's card when it really is our card. But Ante is the one administrating our food budget, and he's the one who got hold of it. He's responsible for it. But, you're right. It isn't Ante's personal account we're dipping into when we're using it."

Bjorn caught sight of the captain from the fishing boat, heading for the tiny market in the middle of the square, together with some of his crew members, just as Geir pressed the accelerator, heading back in the direction of the check point. "What a strange place this is," Bjorn thought to himself. "Terrible wage conditions, civilians carrying guns, a casino, no taxes on food, wine, or petrol. And people not even using real money, but casino tokens instead."

"So, what's with the wine?" Bjorn asked, taking another quick look at the receipt from Pingo which he had been absentmindedly fingering since he sat down in the car. "It's kind of un-Norwegian to drink wine at a military base, isn't it?"
"It sure is," Geir replied. "It's not even legal."
"That's what I thought too. So why isn't Frank putting his foot down?"
"Because he likes it... He's a bit of an alcoholic."
"Really?"
"He and Ante," Geir continued. "Ever since Ante started buying food from Pingo, wine has been constantly available at the base."
"And you're not tempted to report this?" Bjorn asked.
"I am, but it wouldn't be very popular."

Bjorn nodded in agreement. He liked Ante and his wine, and would not be very happy himself if Geir was to spoil the little pleasures provided by Ante.

41

Bjorn could not help admiring the boy's optimism in the face of the hopeless situation he and his father had gotten themselves into. With the minimal wages paid by Ane, neither the boy nor his father were likely to see their family in Senegal again any time soon. Certainly not as long as they were sending whatever little extra they were making back to their loved ones.

"Here is five MG for your help," Bjorn said, fishing out the smallest chip he could find from his pocket. "Keep the change!"
"Thank you," the boy replied, suddenly switching to Norwegian, and grinning from ear to ear.
"So you speak Norwegian, do you?" Bjorn asked, also switching to Norwegian.
"A little, I lived almost six months in Oslo before we got busted and sent up here."

Bjorn found the boy's story fascinating while Geir clearly found it less so. Impatient to get going, Geir demonstratively got into the car while Bjorn exchanged a final few words with the boy, encouraging him to keep up his Norwegian, and wishing him good luck for the future.

When the boy finally left, heading back to the village square, Bjorn discovered that he was holding the receipt from Pingo in his hand, and he was for a moment surprised by this before remembering that he had absentmindedly picked it out of one of the bags when putting away the groceries in the trunk of the car. He scanned the receipt briefly before entering the car, seating himself in the passenger seat next to Geir.

"That's interesting," Bjorn said, as Geir started the engine. "This receipt from Pingo has a field for the sales tax, and it is set to zero."
"And?" Geir asked with an irritated tone of voice that Bjorn chose to ignore.
"Well, it means that king Pedro is not collecting any taxes on the food. So we still don't know how he's making any money on this project."
"Maybe he owns Pingo," Geir suggested.
"You think he went to all this trouble just to open a grocery store in the arctic?" Bjorn asked mockingly.
"I don't know," Geir replied, even more irritated. "And you know... I don't really care either."

A bus had stopped to let out a fairly large number of passengers right next to the parking lot, and it took some maneuvering on Geir's part to avoid the many pedestrians crossing the road. Then, he drove the car over to the petrol station where a man greeted them at the pump. Geir rolled down the window on his side, and asked the man to fill up the tank.

"You don't see that very often anymore," Bjorn remarked as the man went ahead with the business of filling their tank with petrol. "In fact, I can't remember having seen this kind of service since I was a kid."
"We have thankfully progressed from back then," Geir countered while tapping the steering wheel lazily with his hand.
"Yeah," Bjorn agreed. "It is not hard to come up with this kind of services when salaries are close to zero."
"Exactly!" Geir nodded. "We have come a long way since the seventies."

25

The two cranes that Bjorn had been observing from the check point were suddenly fully visible as the car reached the perimeter of the village, just a few minutes after passing the apartment building under construction at the other side of the low hill to the east of the village.

This was a much bigger construction site than the apartment building, and very far from being finished, at least as far as Bjorn could judge. Unlike the apartment building which had people working on it everywhere, only a handful of people could be seen, putting up scaffolding and preparing for concrete to be poured into huge moulds, all with a mesh of iron rods sticking out of them.

The impressive but quiet building site was located at the top of a long, moderately inclined street, leading all the way down to a square by the fjord. A few houses lined the street, but in a rather random fashion, with some houses drawn quite far back from the road, while others were practically next to it. The old village had clearly been constructed without much planning, and the only place with any indication of proper planning was the square which was lined with buildings neatly positioned around the open space in the middle.

The road circling the central square had sidewalks on both sides, and was as far as Bjorn could see, the only bit of road with a sidewalk. No such luxury had been afforded for any of the other roads, of which there were quite a number, all leading into the square.

A small low knoll of a hill, separating the square from the fjord served as a parking space, with several cars placed semi-randomly along its perimeter, and Geir drove the red sedan up next to a car already parked on this hill, adding to the pattern that had been established for the day.

The trip down from the check point had taken less than ten minutes, which left the two men with a bit of time to spare before going over to the fish processing plant. Geir suggested they walk up on top of the knoll as a short detour before going to the plant, and Bjorn was more than happy to comply, feeling an urge for a cigarette and eager to get a fuller view of the village.

The two low hills on either side of the village formed the valley in which the village was nestled, and protruding into the fjord, the same two hills formed a small bay, with the fish processing plant located on the eastern shore, and several houses located on the western shore.

Standing on the top of the knoll separating the town square from the innermost point of the bay, the layout of the village seemed less random than first impression had given cause to believe. The layout was simply following the natural lay of the land, and the wooden houses, painted in all sorts of bright colours, especially blue, red and yellow, were almost all located in spots that were both elevated and shielded at the same time.

A small church, located on top of a steep incline from the road joining the fish processing plant and the village square, perfectly illustrated this fondness for elevated yet shielded locations, located as it was on a rather commanding little hill, but shielded to the east and the north by a rock formation, dwarfing it while simultaneously protecting it from the hostility of arctic winds and weather.

There were quite a number of people out and about in the village considering that it could not possibly be housing more than a few hundred inhabitants and that it was anything but a pleasant summer day. Bjorn had noticed several people selling stuff from little stands in the village square, there had been a gang of people mending holes in the long, straight road leading up the valley from the square to the building site, and others were just walking about, seemingly with no purpose or business at all.

The mending of the road had struck Bjorn as extremely primitive and inefficient, as it was done with no help of any type of machinery, except for a big pan to heat the asphalt, which was poured into buckets as Geir and Bjorn had crawled past in their car on their way down to the square, careful not to hit any of the men. And the asphalt, once poured into the various potholes was made flat by men manually dragging a heavy roller across the soft, oily mess.

From the top of the knoll, Bjorn could see that the asphalt was simply broken up from the sidewalk in front of the casino, at the west side of the square, and taken in buckets up to the pan where it was heated and made into road repair. The process seemed totally nonsensical since the road repair clearly was at the expense of the sidewalk in front of the casino, but by the time Bjorn pointed out the strange spectacle to Geir it was time to go and inspect the fish processing plant.

"We can look at it later," Geir said as they wandered down the hill towards the plant. "I have a few things to buy for Ante while we are down here. Pingo is right across the square from the casino. Maybe it makes more sense once we take a closer look at what they are doing."

24

Geir wasted no time hanging around at the barracks when Bjorn entered. He too was eager to go, but as it turned out, for very different reasons than Bjorn. While Bjorn was eager to find out what the village was actually like, Geir's excitement was all about telling people about procedures and protocol, and generally being a big shot. It soon became clear to Bjorn that Geir had no interest in learning anything. As far as Geir was concerned, the village was no more and no less than a concentration camp populated by asylum seekers and profiteers. A place in grave need of regulations and control, which was what he and Bjorn was going to impose through rigid inspections and clear cut rules for operating businesses like the fish processing plant. Geir was all worked up and was soon busy lecturing Bjorn on the importance of coming across as assertive and authoritative so as to establish the right level of respect for the law and the rules and regulations that define the limits of what can and cannot be done in the village.

Geir was sitting behind the wheel of the red sedan that Ante had used to pick up Bjorn at the port two days earlier, complaining that the check point didn't have a proper military vehicle that they could use to come across more assertively on the population, when Bjorn caught eye of a billboard at the roadside promoting the Lundby Casino. It displayed a glamorous looking couple by a roulette table, and the text seemed perverse considering that the village was little more than a modern day gulag. In gold letters, below the smiling couple, the text read "Lundby, where dreams come true!"

"What sort of a sick mind came up with that?" Bjorn asked, interrupting Geir in his seemingly endless monologue.
"Came up with what?"
"The billboard we just passed. The one with an ad for the casino."
"Well, that is aimed at the scum who come out here from Kirkenes to play, get drunk, and get laid, I guess. This place is a cesspool of vice."
"Really?"
"Its the way of the Samis. They have no shame, and we should never have given them autonomy."
"Autonomy?"
"Well, semi-autonomy. That was the deal when they negotiated this plan. As long as they make sure no one escapes this place, they are free to do just about anything they please, and this kind of shit is what the they come up with. They like to present themselves as poor victims, and close to nature, and all that crap, but when push comes to shove, it's all about making money."

"And what about that apartment building over there?" Bjorn continued, catching sight of the building site he had been observing from the glass office. "Who's going to move in there?"
"The same scum bags who put up the casino, I guess. Some people are out here just to make a quick buck, you know. The factory we are about to inspect is probably no exception. Be prepared to see a lot of miserable people being exploited big time!"

Bjorn felt a sting of guilt as he once again was reminded of the sort of misery he was employed to sustain, and asked Geir if he felt the same way.

"No, I don't," was his short reply.
"Why not?"
"Its either them or us, you know. They are like parasites, and we had to stop them. Now that they have to work while they wait for their asylum papers to be processed, I'm sure we'll soon see the asylum seeker problem solved. It may be brutal for the few true asylum seekers coming to Norway, but the way things were going... You know... Things were really getting out of hand."
"Yeah I know..." said Bjorn with a nod, feeling better from hearing Geir's honest and straight forward assessment of the situation. "We really had to do something. This colony is all for the best. Stroke of political genius, if you ask me."
"Yep, that's the truth, and don't you forget it. It really was a stroke of genius, and I for one... I'm proud of being part of this."

7

Not being very interested in football, Bjorn remained standing in the front of the office, behind the men clustering around the TV screen. He followed the game with muted interest, looking out of the window every now and again to look for signs of anyone coming to pick him up.

After a few minutes, he noticed a car in the distance, a red sedan charging along the road down by the fjord, coming in and out of view on its way towards the Port. The bright head lights made it easy to spot in the grey surroundings as it flashed its lights directly in Bjorn's direction every time it came out from a curve that had briefly hidden it from view.

As the car came closer, it remained in view for longer periods of time until it was no longer hidden at all, charging down the final stretch towards the port. The car disappeared briefly behind a large shed by the entrance to the port before coming back in view, making a wide curve towards the check point, completely ignoring the markings on the tarmac, separating parking areas from lanes of traffic, bus stops, and the like.

The driver was, by the look of it, deliberately trying to make an extravagant point of breaking all the rules as he increased his speed during the final hundred yards just to slam on the breaks and bring the car to a complete stop as it slid screeching sideways into place in front of the office.

"That must be Ante," Trond said without  taking his eyes off the TV.
"That's my man?" Bjorn asked, putting down his mug of coffee.
"Yes," Trond replied, taking a quick look out of the window to make absolutely sure of the identity of the driver.

Bjorn took his back pack and left the office, not waiting for Ante to get in, and thanking the men for the coffee as he left. The car stood right across from the door of the office with the driver's seat facing it, and the driver rolled down the window to greet Bjorn as he stepped into the cold.

"So you are Ante?" Bjorn asked.
"And you must be Bjorn."
"Sure am," Bjorn replied.
"Then, hop in!"

Ante signalled to Bjorn that he should take the front seat before rolling up the window, quickly so as not to loose more heat than absolutely necessary. Getting into the car after tossing his back pack into the back seat, Bjorn sat down and strapped on his seat belt, anticipating correctly that the drive back to the Neiden check point would be at least as speedy as Ante's drive to the Port.

The road turned out to be in pretty bad shape, and Bjorn was tossed around in his seat as Ante ignored the smaller pot holes and swerved sharply around the bigger ones. But the need to focus on his driving to navigate the pot holes, did not prevent Ante from engaging Bjorn in small talk, pointing out things along the road as they passed them, and asking Bjorn about his trip and his first impressions of the arctic.

Ante talked in a thick local dialect that Bjorn could not help find amusing, since the man's extravagant driving and talkativeness had every mark of the typical stereotype portrayal of a North Norway inhabitant, flamboyant, foul mouthed and passionate. Dark haired and with subtle Asian features, Bjorn guessed the man to be Sami, and asked him politely if this was true.

"How did you guess?" Ante asked with a broad smile.
"Well..."
"Of course I am," Ante continued without waiting for an answer. "My family has been up here for generations."
"Really?"
"Rain deer herding and fishing, that's what we used to do up here before my grandfather gave it up and started working at the iron mine instead. And when that was closed down, and the fish processing plant folded too, that was the end of it."
"And now?"
"Well, most of my family has moved south. My parents are living on the dole in Kirkenes, and I'm the only one up here with a job."