"Well, that's awkward," Ante said in a low voice. "What do we do now?"
"Ah... I was just showing these people around," Georgio explained to Pedro at the far end of the hallway.
"I can see that, Georgio. But why are you hiding your guests from me?"
"I'm not hiding them. I... We were... I mean, we were just about to leave."
"Is that so?"
"Yeah!"
Pedro looked unimpressed by Georgio's explanation.
"You know! Why don't you all come down here so I get to meet you guys?" Pedro continued. "If you have time, that is."
Georgio looked at Ante and Olga who both did as if they could spare a few minutes, nodding and smiling sheepishly.
"Okay, why not?" Georgio replied, still pretending that their rush to leave had nothing to do with Pedro and his guests entering the apartment.
"As you can see, I have some guests here of my own," Pedro continued, as Georgio and his guests headed towards the kitchen. "This is Jan and his two daughters, Vera and Hannah. They run the casino in the village, and Jan owns most of the land around here, isn't that so Jan?"
"That's right," Jan replied with a smile.
"And, who do we have here?" Pedro asked politely as Georgio came into the kitchen with his guests.
"Well, this is Olga and Igor from the village, and Ante and Bjorn from the Neiden road checkpoint, and this is Einar, my assistant," Georgio explained.
"And this must be your hand bag," Pedro commented, handing the bag over to Olga.
"Yes, thank you," Olga answered, looking bothered and embarrassed.
"And what sort of business are you in, Olga?" Pedro asked, looking genuinely interest.
"I'm running a sewing factory... cooperative."
"A sewing cooperative. Here in Lundby?" Pedro asked rhetorically, "Well, that's great."
"You think so?"
"Absolutely. Entrepreneurship is what Lundby is all about. What sort of things are you making?"
"Dolls and fluffy animals. And jackets and... well... lingerie."
"That's quite a range of different stuff," Pedro commented. "How many are you all in all."
"It's just me and two others here in the village, and three over in Nikel. Six all in all."
"So there's plenty of room for expansion?"
"There is," Olga replied with a modest smile.
"And you're her proud husband, I take it?" Pedro continued, looking at Igor.
"Yes, I am... Very proud of her."
"You work together?"
"No. I work for Pingo."
"When you're not driving people around at night, that is," Ante added.
"Well... Only when I'm off work."
"You drive people around?" Pedro asked.
"Yeah... Like a taxi service."
"A taxi service?"
"You know... Those apps that you can use. And you get a car to drive you from A to B."
"Yes, I do. Which one are you using?"
"A2B."
"Cool name, don't you think?" Pedro asked with a smile.
"Yeah."
"You know, I own that app."
"You're kidding?"
"Well... I own ten per cent."
"You do?"
"Absolutely!" Pedro replied with a satisfied nod. "I see a great future in that kind of services."
Then, looking at Einar, he asked how he was doing, working for Georgio.
"I'm doing fine," Einar answered.
"He's very talented," Georgio added. "He's been a great help."
"And what sort of plans do you have when you're finished here?" Pedro asked. "You're not going to Venice with Georgio and his friends, are you?"
"Oh no... That won't happen," Einar answered. "I don't know what I will do... I'll find something."
"I'll need a carpenter or two one of these days," Jan commented.
"Is that so?" Einar asked.
"Yep... You seem a little young, though. How old are you?"
"Fourteen."
"So! That's younger than I thought."
"How old did you think I was?"
"Seventeen... Or what do you think, Vera?"
"Yeah... More than fourteen, any way," Vera replied.
"But you know your stuff, do you?" Jan continued.
"He does." Georgio replied on Einar's behalf. "Do you already have a master carpenter?"
"I'm negotiating with one right now."
"Well, I would not hesitate to recommend Einar to him."
"Okay," Jan said with a nod. "You know... Give me a call when you're finished working for Georgio."
Jan handed a business card to Einar, who accepted it with stunned appreciation.
"And how are things up at the checkpoint?" Pedro asked, turning to Bjorn and Ante.
"Can't complain, really," Ante answered.
"You got any special skills?"
"No, not really," Ante answered modestly.
"He's one heck of a chef. But apart from that, no." Bjorn added with a smile.
"Is that so?" Pedro asked. "You're the chef up there?"
"Kind of, yes."
"Kind of?"
"Oh, come on now," Bjorn said, turning to Ante. "Of course you are. He's really talented!"
"Good enough to come work for me?" Pedro asked.
"Hey, wait a minute!" Bjorn protested. "He's our chef."
"He is your chef?" Pedro asked. "You own him?"
"No, but..."
"And what about you?" Pedro continued, still looking at Bjorn. "Do you have any special skills?"
"No... Not really."
"You've been a soldier all your life?"
"No. I worked as an engineer once."
"You did?" Pedro asked. "So, why have you joined the army?"
"Ah... Because... I'd rather be in the army than an engineer."
"Why?"
"It's easier... And it pays just as well."
"It does?"
"After taxes," Bjorn added.
Pedro looked at Bjorn for a moment, as if he was considering whether or not to tell him a secret.
"You were over at Ane's factory the other day, weren't you?" Pedro asked.
"Yeah. Together with Geir. Why?"
"Nah... Nothing. Ane told me about you. That's all."
"She did?"
"Nothing bad... Just that you were over there at Wednesday, was it?"
"Yeah. She told you that?"
"She did indeed... But never mind that. What sort of stuff did you do as an engineer?"
"Ah... Electronics. But mostly programming towards the end."
"Is that so?" Pedro asked with a pleased smile. "What sort of programming?"
"Scripts, web pages, and some low level stuff."
"Well, that's very interesting," Pedro said with a nod. "We're looking for programmers."
"You are?"
"Well... Not me so much as my technical guru... You know... I'll introduce you to him on Wednesday."
"This coming Wednesday?" Bjorn asked puzzled.
"Yeah."
"But, when?"
"When you're down at the airport anyway."
"At the airport?" Bjorn asked even more puzzled.
"Sure. Haven't Frank told you?"
"No."
"Well," Pedro said with a knowing smile. "Then you have it from me. You'll spend most of Wednesday at the airport, together with Espen, provided you don't misbehave on Tuesday."
"And what's going to happen on Tuesday?" Bjorn asked.
"That's for me to know and you to find out," Pedro answered with a smile. "If I told you everything ahead of time, life wouldn't be any fun, would it?"
Showing posts with label taxi. Show all posts
Showing posts with label taxi. Show all posts
Tuesday, October 28, 2014
Friday, September 5, 2014
115
By the time Bjorn got out in the hallway, everybody were clattering down the stairs, except for Frank who came staggering out of his room apparently just woken up from a dream.
"Hi Frank," Bjorn said cheerfully. "I need to talk to you about a thing."
"About what?" Frank asked grumpily.
"About a boat taxi I came across last night."
"I know, I know," Frank interjected. "Geir told me all about it."
"He did?" Bjorn asked, feeling a sting of disappointment.
"He sent me an e-mail."
"Oh... So that's taken care of then?"
"I've reported it on to Oslo," Frank explained, leading Bjorn towards the stairs. "We don't have the resources to control the entire coast line for this kind of thing, so my suggestion is that we should employ the coast guard to patrol the entrance to the bay. That way every boat coming and going can be controlled as they pass through the narrow straight to Kirkenes."
Bjorn nodded in agreement, as he walked down the stairs. Frank sure knew his stuff. He might be a show off, but he had a good head on his shoulders, at least when he made an effort to use it.
Sitting down at the table, Frank was not very happy to see his gun, but revealed no concern about this apart from an almost undetectable twitch. Then, he simply pulled the gun towards himself, and lay it across his lap. Frank was obviously in no mood to talk about the gun, and Ante, together with Bjorn, pretended to be completely ignorant about it. And with John and Espen either oblivious to it, or sensing the unspoken tension related to the gun, did not remark on it either.
And to make absolutely sure that no one would mention the gun, Bjorn announced to everyone his intention to go out with a plate of food and a glass of wine to Thomas out in the glass cage. And this had the desired effect of setting off the conversation on a happy and careless note.
Bjorn piled up some meat, potatoes and vegetables on a plate, poured a generous glass of red wine, and headed out to Thomas with it all, grabbing a paper napkin and some cutlery on his way out.
The rain had turned to a light drizzle, and Bjorn got to the glass cage without getting wet beyond a very light sprinkle that did not even soak into his clothes.
"Thanks, that's very good of you," Thomas said cheerfully as Bjorn entered the tiny office. "This will certainly make my time here in the cage pass quicker."
"I´m sure it will," Bjorn agreed.
Then, before heading back to the barracks, Bjorn took in the view from the glass cage. The clouds hanging low and heavy over the bay added to the fairy tale beauty of the place. The utter greyness and lifelessness conjured up the feeling that this was indeed the edge of the world, an arctic corner where no man was ever supposed to come, and which civilization had violated by adding roads and houses in godless defiance of the natural order of things.
"It's almost a little spooky, isn't it?" Bjorn asked rhetorically.
"What is?" Thomas asked, taking an initial sip of his wine.
"The view."
"I like it," Thomas said as a matter of fact.
"Me too," Bjorn agreed. "It's beautiful."
Bjorn left Thomas with his plate of food and glass of wine, heading back to the kitchen where the conversation had turned to the riots at the asylum centre in Lier. John had learned from looking around on the web that the riots had indeed been taking place at the very same place where Lars had organized his demonstration just days before, and John was sensing a conspiracy of some kind.
"So you think that Lars is behind it?" Espen asked.
"Well, he did not seem very upset with the riots, did he?" John replied.
"When was Lars ever upset with a riot?" Frank commented with a grin.
"But you have to admit it's a little disconcerting that he is targeting Lundby with his rhetoric these days." John added in defence of his theory.
"And that is why we are going to get a big fence around this place," Frank explained. "As long as we are one step ahead of the mob, we're fine."
The men fell silent on this note, and Bjorn took another sip of his red wine, only to be struck by its unusual taste.
"So what wine is this?" Bjorn asked, taking the opportunity to change the subject matter.
"It is a red green wine," Ante answered with a big smile.
"So they do exist," Bjorn commented glibly.
"They do indeed! Proves that even you can be right at times."
"Wasn't it Espen who came up with that theory" Bjorn asked modestly, turning to Espen.
"Or was it Thomas?" Espen asked.
Ante looked around the table with a smile.
"You know, maybe we should all take credit for being such good thinkers," Ante suggested.
And with this the conversation turned permanently to lighter matters. The wine drinkers at the table all agreed that the wine had an unusual feel to it which went quite well with the turkey. But they were more divided when it came to whether or not to repeat the experience. Frank and Espen thought it a nice experience as a one off, while Bjorn and Ante thought it good enough to try again, with Ante suggesting they should try the wine again one day with a duck or a goose or some similar fatty bird.
"Well, you're the one in charge of the household," Frank noted. "So I guess the decision is ultimately yours to make."
"It is indeed," Ante said smiling form ear to ear.
"Hi Frank," Bjorn said cheerfully. "I need to talk to you about a thing."
"About what?" Frank asked grumpily.
"About a boat taxi I came across last night."
"I know, I know," Frank interjected. "Geir told me all about it."
"He did?" Bjorn asked, feeling a sting of disappointment.
"He sent me an e-mail."
"Oh... So that's taken care of then?"
"I've reported it on to Oslo," Frank explained, leading Bjorn towards the stairs. "We don't have the resources to control the entire coast line for this kind of thing, so my suggestion is that we should employ the coast guard to patrol the entrance to the bay. That way every boat coming and going can be controlled as they pass through the narrow straight to Kirkenes."
Bjorn nodded in agreement, as he walked down the stairs. Frank sure knew his stuff. He might be a show off, but he had a good head on his shoulders, at least when he made an effort to use it.
Sitting down at the table, Frank was not very happy to see his gun, but revealed no concern about this apart from an almost undetectable twitch. Then, he simply pulled the gun towards himself, and lay it across his lap. Frank was obviously in no mood to talk about the gun, and Ante, together with Bjorn, pretended to be completely ignorant about it. And with John and Espen either oblivious to it, or sensing the unspoken tension related to the gun, did not remark on it either.
And to make absolutely sure that no one would mention the gun, Bjorn announced to everyone his intention to go out with a plate of food and a glass of wine to Thomas out in the glass cage. And this had the desired effect of setting off the conversation on a happy and careless note.
Bjorn piled up some meat, potatoes and vegetables on a plate, poured a generous glass of red wine, and headed out to Thomas with it all, grabbing a paper napkin and some cutlery on his way out.
The rain had turned to a light drizzle, and Bjorn got to the glass cage without getting wet beyond a very light sprinkle that did not even soak into his clothes.
"Thanks, that's very good of you," Thomas said cheerfully as Bjorn entered the tiny office. "This will certainly make my time here in the cage pass quicker."
"I´m sure it will," Bjorn agreed.
Then, before heading back to the barracks, Bjorn took in the view from the glass cage. The clouds hanging low and heavy over the bay added to the fairy tale beauty of the place. The utter greyness and lifelessness conjured up the feeling that this was indeed the edge of the world, an arctic corner where no man was ever supposed to come, and which civilization had violated by adding roads and houses in godless defiance of the natural order of things.
"It's almost a little spooky, isn't it?" Bjorn asked rhetorically.
"What is?" Thomas asked, taking an initial sip of his wine.
"The view."
"I like it," Thomas said as a matter of fact.
"Me too," Bjorn agreed. "It's beautiful."
Bjorn left Thomas with his plate of food and glass of wine, heading back to the kitchen where the conversation had turned to the riots at the asylum centre in Lier. John had learned from looking around on the web that the riots had indeed been taking place at the very same place where Lars had organized his demonstration just days before, and John was sensing a conspiracy of some kind.
"So you think that Lars is behind it?" Espen asked.
"Well, he did not seem very upset with the riots, did he?" John replied.
"When was Lars ever upset with a riot?" Frank commented with a grin.
"But you have to admit it's a little disconcerting that he is targeting Lundby with his rhetoric these days." John added in defence of his theory.
"And that is why we are going to get a big fence around this place," Frank explained. "As long as we are one step ahead of the mob, we're fine."
The men fell silent on this note, and Bjorn took another sip of his red wine, only to be struck by its unusual taste.
"So what wine is this?" Bjorn asked, taking the opportunity to change the subject matter.
"It is a red green wine," Ante answered with a big smile.
"So they do exist," Bjorn commented glibly.
"They do indeed! Proves that even you can be right at times."
"Wasn't it Espen who came up with that theory" Bjorn asked modestly, turning to Espen.
"Or was it Thomas?" Espen asked.
Ante looked around the table with a smile.
"You know, maybe we should all take credit for being such good thinkers," Ante suggested.
And with this the conversation turned permanently to lighter matters. The wine drinkers at the table all agreed that the wine had an unusual feel to it which went quite well with the turkey. But they were more divided when it came to whether or not to repeat the experience. Frank and Espen thought it a nice experience as a one off, while Bjorn and Ante thought it good enough to try again, with Ante suggesting they should try the wine again one day with a duck or a goose or some similar fatty bird.
"Well, you're the one in charge of the household," Frank noted. "So I guess the decision is ultimately yours to make."
"It is indeed," Ante said smiling form ear to ear.
Saturday, July 19, 2014
103
After telling Ante that they were feeling fine, apart from a mild hangover, Thomas confronted Ante with the fact that he had completely lost control last night, and got himself terribly drunk.
"And you were supposed to be our designated driver," Thomas said, clearly disappointed.
"Well, I was doing fine right until Bjorn came in, suggesting we all take a taxi home," Ante protested.
"No, you were not. You already had way too much to drink."
"I did not! I was drinking the occasional alcoholic beverage, but I was mainly sticking to soft drinks. I was in total control. It was you guys who suggested we take a taxi."
"Because you already had too much to drink," Thomas said, a little exasperated.
"Well... Anyway... Once we decided to order a taxi, there was no need for me to restrain myself, was there?"
There was a pause as Ante took a sip of water from his glass.
"So you know Igor, do you?" Bjorn asked, changing the subject somewhat.
"Yes, he's a good friend of mine," Ante answered with a smile.
"So why did you blank out completely when I told you there's a taxi service in Lundby?"
"I did?"
"Yeah, you did. But Igor must have told you about his taxi service. He's a pretty talkative guy."
"Sure is... Well... Now that you mention it, I thought you were talking about one of those old fashion services. You know... the type you have down in Oslo."
"And?"
"Well... I couldn't quite see it working up here. Lundby is a tiny village after all... But you're right. Igor told me all about it... He even had me download the app on my smartphone."
"And still you didn't make the connection when I told you about the taxi?"
"You know... You really caught me a little off guard when you came in... And I don't see why you're making such a fuss about this... Here, have a look at this... This is the app."
Ante fished his smartphone out of his pocket and clicked on an icon of a car, holding the smartphone at an angle to let Bjorn watch while he demonstrated it.
"So, if you want a lift, you simply type in your location here, and up comes the list of available cars."
"Looks like Igor is offline," Bjorn commented, seeing Igor's name greyed out.
"Yes, he's probably deep asleep, or just getting up... Anyway, if I set the time that I want to get a car to this evening, he might again be available."
Ante typed in nine PM, and sure enough, Igor's name was no longer greyed out.
"But look what happens if I type in some far off place like Oslo as the destination," Ante continued, typing in an address off the top of his head. "You see how Igor is greyed out again."
"Yeah, why?"
"It's because the trip will take too much time... You see here... It says that Igor cannot take the assignment because it takes too much time, interfering with other assignments... Now, if we push this button we'll get a list of all those available to take this particular job... And... as you can see, there's no cars available for this particular lift."
"Cool... and if you type in a different destination?" Bjorn asked. "What happens?"
Ante typed in Lundby village square, and up came a list with three cars, with Igor's name on top.
"And why is Igor's name on top?" Bjorn asked, curious to learn more.
"Because we used him last night, and I gave him excellent marks for his service," Ante explained.
"Well, that's great," Bjorn exclaimed, genuinely impressed.
"It is, isn't it?" Ante agreed. "You'll find it online too. In case you don't have a smart phone."
Bjorn took a sip of his coffee, thinking back to the recent unrest related to rogue taxi services in Oslo, and how the new government finally clamped down on it with full force after a particularly violent riot.
"So this is the service those anarchists in Oslo were so fiercely against?" Bjorn asked.
"Well... This, and similar services," Ante corrected. "They were pretty fierce, those rioters, weren't they? Imagine tricking all those driver into that square, and then come out and beat them up with bats and rocks and whatnot."
"And what for?" Bjorn asked rhetorically. "The poor drivers were helping people get from A to B."
"Tax evasion, Bjorn. Tax evasion," Ante said earnestly.
"Yeah but still, they almost killed one of the drivers," Bjorn protested.
"And then they locked them all up in jail together with the rioters," Thomas added. "Imagine being locked up with those thugs... I'm pretty sure they put them together intentionally, just to rub it in."
There was a pause while the men contemplated the riots that had taken place right after the elections.
"They are a bunch of perverted sadists," Thomas commented, clearly disgusted by what happened.
"Who? The anarchists?" Ante asked.
"Yeah... But the law enforcers aren't much better, are they? Putting those poor drivers in jail together with those psychopaths."
"True," Ante agreed.
"And it's not like it is the first time they did something like that." Thomas continued.
"No?" Bjorn asked, not able to think of a similar episode.
"You remember what they did to Odd, don't you?" Thomas asked.
"The painter?" Bjorn asked.
"Yeah... Locking him up two years... Also for tax evasion." Thomas explained. "With no access to paint, brushes, canvas, pencils... Did you hear what they did when they found him with some paper and a couple of pencils?"
"No, what happened?"
"They locked him in an isolation cell for a week."
"Really?"
"Yeah, it never got a mention anywhere, except briefly by Odd's lawyer, who promptly got replaced by another guy."
"You're kidding," Bjorn said shocked, but also feeling pretty sure that Thomas was exaggerating, and making things sound worse than they were.
"Look it up! The tweet was promptly removed, but you can still find copies of it on the web. And you'll also learn that Odd's lawyer was replaced due to so called irregularities... And have you seen any recent pictures of Odd, by the way?"
"No... The last ones I saw, he was still in court, fighting for his freedom."
"He looked pretty haggard even then, but you should see him now!"
"Yeah?"
"He's a wreck... They are killing him. That's what they are doing. They are making an example of him. People will think twice before trying to evade taxes again when they see what they did to Odd, and how things went with the drivers."
There was again a pause. Bjorn sent Ante a concerned look, sensing that Thomas was getting a bit too excited.
"But tax evasion is a pretty serious crime," Ante suggested.
"Worse than beating someone almost to death?" Thomas asked.
"No, but..."
"Well, the rioters were let out two months ago. The drivers, on the other hand, are all still locked up. Even Lars, the leader of the rioters is out in the free after having organized this whole episode... And now he's up to no good again, heading the anti-Lundby protests."
And that was it, of course. That was where Bjorn had seen the retro punker before. Bjorn knew there was something familiar about the man, but had completely forgotten that he was the one behind the taxi riots last fall.
"I knew I'd seen that anarchist before," Bjorn exclaimed glibly.
"You know," Thomas said, turning to Bjorn. "It's completely idiotic to call that guy an anarchist. Have you ever heard of a tax collecting anarchist? How is that even possible? Anarchist are supposed to be against the state, not working for it."
"Well... it is kind of anarchist to take the law into your own hand, isn't it?" Ante commented in Bjorn's defence.
"No, it is not?" Thomas protested. "Doing that makes you a vigilante, not an anarchist. Anarchists leave people alone."
"I think people like Lars will disagree," Ante countered. "I'm pretty sure I heard him refer to himself as an anarchist the other day."
"I'm sure he does," Thomas said, nodding wearily. "But he is not an anarchist as long as he insists on other people living by his rules. That only makes him an aspiring ruler, a thug convinced that his rules must be followed by others, no matter what."
There was again a pause. Then, Ante broke the silence by saying that he had a hard time getting the image of rock throwing thugs out of his head whenever the word anarchist was used.
"And that is probably why they call themselves citizens down in Lundby," Thomas commented. "The only true anarchists are the gentle anarchists. Everyone else is just out to dominate their fellow men."
"And you were supposed to be our designated driver," Thomas said, clearly disappointed.
"Well, I was doing fine right until Bjorn came in, suggesting we all take a taxi home," Ante protested.
"No, you were not. You already had way too much to drink."
"I did not! I was drinking the occasional alcoholic beverage, but I was mainly sticking to soft drinks. I was in total control. It was you guys who suggested we take a taxi."
"Because you already had too much to drink," Thomas said, a little exasperated.
"Well... Anyway... Once we decided to order a taxi, there was no need for me to restrain myself, was there?"
There was a pause as Ante took a sip of water from his glass.
"So you know Igor, do you?" Bjorn asked, changing the subject somewhat.
"Yes, he's a good friend of mine," Ante answered with a smile.
"So why did you blank out completely when I told you there's a taxi service in Lundby?"
"I did?"
"Yeah, you did. But Igor must have told you about his taxi service. He's a pretty talkative guy."
"Sure is... Well... Now that you mention it, I thought you were talking about one of those old fashion services. You know... the type you have down in Oslo."
"And?"
"Well... I couldn't quite see it working up here. Lundby is a tiny village after all... But you're right. Igor told me all about it... He even had me download the app on my smartphone."
"And still you didn't make the connection when I told you about the taxi?"
"You know... You really caught me a little off guard when you came in... And I don't see why you're making such a fuss about this... Here, have a look at this... This is the app."
Ante fished his smartphone out of his pocket and clicked on an icon of a car, holding the smartphone at an angle to let Bjorn watch while he demonstrated it.
"So, if you want a lift, you simply type in your location here, and up comes the list of available cars."
"Looks like Igor is offline," Bjorn commented, seeing Igor's name greyed out.
"Yes, he's probably deep asleep, or just getting up... Anyway, if I set the time that I want to get a car to this evening, he might again be available."
Ante typed in nine PM, and sure enough, Igor's name was no longer greyed out.
"But look what happens if I type in some far off place like Oslo as the destination," Ante continued, typing in an address off the top of his head. "You see how Igor is greyed out again."
"Yeah, why?"
"It's because the trip will take too much time... You see here... It says that Igor cannot take the assignment because it takes too much time, interfering with other assignments... Now, if we push this button we'll get a list of all those available to take this particular job... And... as you can see, there's no cars available for this particular lift."
"Cool... and if you type in a different destination?" Bjorn asked. "What happens?"
Ante typed in Lundby village square, and up came a list with three cars, with Igor's name on top.
"And why is Igor's name on top?" Bjorn asked, curious to learn more.
"Because we used him last night, and I gave him excellent marks for his service," Ante explained.
"Well, that's great," Bjorn exclaimed, genuinely impressed.
"It is, isn't it?" Ante agreed. "You'll find it online too. In case you don't have a smart phone."
Bjorn took a sip of his coffee, thinking back to the recent unrest related to rogue taxi services in Oslo, and how the new government finally clamped down on it with full force after a particularly violent riot.
"So this is the service those anarchists in Oslo were so fiercely against?" Bjorn asked.
"Well... This, and similar services," Ante corrected. "They were pretty fierce, those rioters, weren't they? Imagine tricking all those driver into that square, and then come out and beat them up with bats and rocks and whatnot."
"And what for?" Bjorn asked rhetorically. "The poor drivers were helping people get from A to B."
"Tax evasion, Bjorn. Tax evasion," Ante said earnestly.
"Yeah but still, they almost killed one of the drivers," Bjorn protested.
"And then they locked them all up in jail together with the rioters," Thomas added. "Imagine being locked up with those thugs... I'm pretty sure they put them together intentionally, just to rub it in."
There was a pause while the men contemplated the riots that had taken place right after the elections.
"They are a bunch of perverted sadists," Thomas commented, clearly disgusted by what happened.
"Who? The anarchists?" Ante asked.
"Yeah... But the law enforcers aren't much better, are they? Putting those poor drivers in jail together with those psychopaths."
"True," Ante agreed.
"And it's not like it is the first time they did something like that." Thomas continued.
"No?" Bjorn asked, not able to think of a similar episode.
"You remember what they did to Odd, don't you?" Thomas asked.
"The painter?" Bjorn asked.
"Yeah... Locking him up two years... Also for tax evasion." Thomas explained. "With no access to paint, brushes, canvas, pencils... Did you hear what they did when they found him with some paper and a couple of pencils?"
"No, what happened?"
"They locked him in an isolation cell for a week."
"Really?"
"Yeah, it never got a mention anywhere, except briefly by Odd's lawyer, who promptly got replaced by another guy."
"You're kidding," Bjorn said shocked, but also feeling pretty sure that Thomas was exaggerating, and making things sound worse than they were.
"Look it up! The tweet was promptly removed, but you can still find copies of it on the web. And you'll also learn that Odd's lawyer was replaced due to so called irregularities... And have you seen any recent pictures of Odd, by the way?"
"No... The last ones I saw, he was still in court, fighting for his freedom."
"He looked pretty haggard even then, but you should see him now!"
"Yeah?"
"He's a wreck... They are killing him. That's what they are doing. They are making an example of him. People will think twice before trying to evade taxes again when they see what they did to Odd, and how things went with the drivers."
There was again a pause. Bjorn sent Ante a concerned look, sensing that Thomas was getting a bit too excited.
"But tax evasion is a pretty serious crime," Ante suggested.
"Worse than beating someone almost to death?" Thomas asked.
"No, but..."
"Well, the rioters were let out two months ago. The drivers, on the other hand, are all still locked up. Even Lars, the leader of the rioters is out in the free after having organized this whole episode... And now he's up to no good again, heading the anti-Lundby protests."
And that was it, of course. That was where Bjorn had seen the retro punker before. Bjorn knew there was something familiar about the man, but had completely forgotten that he was the one behind the taxi riots last fall.
"I knew I'd seen that anarchist before," Bjorn exclaimed glibly.
"You know," Thomas said, turning to Bjorn. "It's completely idiotic to call that guy an anarchist. Have you ever heard of a tax collecting anarchist? How is that even possible? Anarchist are supposed to be against the state, not working for it."
"Well... it is kind of anarchist to take the law into your own hand, isn't it?" Ante commented in Bjorn's defence.
"No, it is not?" Thomas protested. "Doing that makes you a vigilante, not an anarchist. Anarchists leave people alone."
"I think people like Lars will disagree," Ante countered. "I'm pretty sure I heard him refer to himself as an anarchist the other day."
"I'm sure he does," Thomas said, nodding wearily. "But he is not an anarchist as long as he insists on other people living by his rules. That only makes him an aspiring ruler, a thug convinced that his rules must be followed by others, no matter what."
There was again a pause. Then, Ante broke the silence by saying that he had a hard time getting the image of rock throwing thugs out of his head whenever the word anarchist was used.
"And that is probably why they call themselves citizens down in Lundby," Thomas commented. "The only true anarchists are the gentle anarchists. Everyone else is just out to dominate their fellow men."
Tuesday, July 15, 2014
99
Bjorn carved several slices of his favourite cheese, making a sandwich for himself, when a thought struck him about Geir's presence.
"This is the first time I've seen you in the kitchen, I think," Bjorn said semi-curious about Geir's habits at the checkpoint.
"That's right," Geir answered with a smile. "I'm always in the glass cage when you have dinner. But I'm not very fond of hot food... Prefer sandwiches, really."
"You do?"
"Yeah!"
"So you will not be joining us for dinner on this your day off?"
"No... I don't think so."
"You're missing out on some really nice food," Thomas commented. "Ante is a great cook."
"You think he'll be up in time to make dinner?" Bjorn asked.
"Oh yeah... He'll be up before noon."
Bjorn finished making his ham and cheese with his two colleagues watching him in silence.
"That looks good," Geir commented as Bjorn took a greedy bite out of his creation.
"It is!" Bjorn said with a mouthful of bread.
"You see, there's plenty of good sandwiches to be made too... I'd prefer that one you've just made to a hot meal any time."
"Well, I'm not sharing this one with you if that's what you're driving at."
"No, no, of course not... That's not my point."
"I know," Bjorn said with a smile.
There was again a spell of silence among the three colleagues, and Geir was just about to take the opportunity to leave the table when Bjorn suddenly tossed out a question regarding the subsidized cheese he was eating.
"So what do you think about the export subsidies?" Bjorn asked genuinely curious about his colleagues' opinion on the matter.
"On the cheese, you mean?" Geir asked.
"Yeah."
"So Ante has been telling you about it too?"
"It's his favourite piece of trivia fact, I think," Thomas answered on Bjorn's behalf.
"Well, I think it makes a lot of sense," Geir answered. "It's good for the country."
"Really?" Thomas asked sceptically. "In what way?"
"It helps the farmers," Geir explained. "Keeps them in business."
"At everybody else's expense," Thomas added dryly.
"Well, the alternative would be a lot of abandoned farms all over the country... And that would clearly be a bad thing."
"But don't you think it a bit immoral that people are forced to pay for cheese that is sold to foreigners in far away places?"
"Not, considering the alternative."
"I'm sure the farmers can find other things to grow," Thomas said, getting a little irritated with Geir.
"So, now you're suddenly an expert on farming?" Geir asked, sensing a victory coming his way. "I think the farmers and the people in the Department of Agriculture know this better than either you or me, Thomas."
"But that does not make it right," Thomas said, leaning back in his chair and throwing up his arms.
"Well!" Bjorn said with some amazement. He had not expected something as trivial as cheese subsidies to touch such a nerve with Thomas. Then, deciding to put a positive spin on it all in order to defuse the tension he remarked that the subsidies, at the very least, were to the advantage to everyone at the checkpoint.
"We wouldn't be eating nearly as well if it wasn't for our proximity to Lundby," Bjorn said with a smile.
"You're right about that," Thomas said with a nod. "But I still think... Well... Never mind."
Thomas took a sip of his coffee, making an effort to calm down, and Geir sat again up in his chair, ready to leave.
"Well, I'll see you guys later then," Geir said, rising from the table. "I'll be in my room if you need me... you know... regarding the world and stuff."
"Okay," Bjorn answered. "We'll keep that in mind."
Then, as Geir was leaving the room, Bjorn tossed out another question.
"And what do you think about the taxi service down there?" he asked.
"I'd hardly call Igor's car a taxi," Geir said, turning and looking over at Thomas. "It's a rusty old Volvo, isn't it?"
"Well... It got us home last night," Thomas said with no intention to get into another argument.
"Did you know that they even have boat taxies going to Kirkenes, right from the harbour."
"What harbour?" Geir asked, suddenly looking concerned.
"Down by the fish factory... Next to it."
"Really?"
"Yep! Some kids from Kirkenes came in with their boats last night."
"But that's terrible!" Geir exclaimed, clearly upset by what he had just heard.
"How?"
"Well... My God Bjorn... What planet are you from?"
"Planet?"
"You're a boarder guard for heaven's sake."
"So?"
"An unregulated taxi service to Kirkenes? Hello! That's a giant hole in our fence right there, and you didn't see it?"
Bjorn was suddenly speechless from embarrassment. Geir was right. He had learned of a giant hole in the border control, and the obvious problem with this had not occurred to him.
"Well, I sure hope Frank returns soon, because this needs to be reported back to Oslo immediately," Geir said, now being the one fuming with frustration.
"This is the first time I've seen you in the kitchen, I think," Bjorn said semi-curious about Geir's habits at the checkpoint.
"That's right," Geir answered with a smile. "I'm always in the glass cage when you have dinner. But I'm not very fond of hot food... Prefer sandwiches, really."
"You do?"
"Yeah!"
"So you will not be joining us for dinner on this your day off?"
"No... I don't think so."
"You're missing out on some really nice food," Thomas commented. "Ante is a great cook."
"You think he'll be up in time to make dinner?" Bjorn asked.
"Oh yeah... He'll be up before noon."
Bjorn finished making his ham and cheese with his two colleagues watching him in silence.
"That looks good," Geir commented as Bjorn took a greedy bite out of his creation.
"It is!" Bjorn said with a mouthful of bread.
"You see, there's plenty of good sandwiches to be made too... I'd prefer that one you've just made to a hot meal any time."
"Well, I'm not sharing this one with you if that's what you're driving at."
"No, no, of course not... That's not my point."
"I know," Bjorn said with a smile.
There was again a spell of silence among the three colleagues, and Geir was just about to take the opportunity to leave the table when Bjorn suddenly tossed out a question regarding the subsidized cheese he was eating.
"So what do you think about the export subsidies?" Bjorn asked genuinely curious about his colleagues' opinion on the matter.
"On the cheese, you mean?" Geir asked.
"Yeah."
"So Ante has been telling you about it too?"
"It's his favourite piece of trivia fact, I think," Thomas answered on Bjorn's behalf.
"Well, I think it makes a lot of sense," Geir answered. "It's good for the country."
"Really?" Thomas asked sceptically. "In what way?"
"It helps the farmers," Geir explained. "Keeps them in business."
"At everybody else's expense," Thomas added dryly.
"Well, the alternative would be a lot of abandoned farms all over the country... And that would clearly be a bad thing."
"But don't you think it a bit immoral that people are forced to pay for cheese that is sold to foreigners in far away places?"
"Not, considering the alternative."
"I'm sure the farmers can find other things to grow," Thomas said, getting a little irritated with Geir.
"So, now you're suddenly an expert on farming?" Geir asked, sensing a victory coming his way. "I think the farmers and the people in the Department of Agriculture know this better than either you or me, Thomas."
"But that does not make it right," Thomas said, leaning back in his chair and throwing up his arms.
"Well!" Bjorn said with some amazement. He had not expected something as trivial as cheese subsidies to touch such a nerve with Thomas. Then, deciding to put a positive spin on it all in order to defuse the tension he remarked that the subsidies, at the very least, were to the advantage to everyone at the checkpoint.
"We wouldn't be eating nearly as well if it wasn't for our proximity to Lundby," Bjorn said with a smile.
"You're right about that," Thomas said with a nod. "But I still think... Well... Never mind."
Thomas took a sip of his coffee, making an effort to calm down, and Geir sat again up in his chair, ready to leave.
"Well, I'll see you guys later then," Geir said, rising from the table. "I'll be in my room if you need me... you know... regarding the world and stuff."
"Okay," Bjorn answered. "We'll keep that in mind."
Then, as Geir was leaving the room, Bjorn tossed out another question.
"And what do you think about the taxi service down there?" he asked.
"I'd hardly call Igor's car a taxi," Geir said, turning and looking over at Thomas. "It's a rusty old Volvo, isn't it?"
"Well... It got us home last night," Thomas said with no intention to get into another argument.
"Did you know that they even have boat taxies going to Kirkenes, right from the harbour."
"What harbour?" Geir asked, suddenly looking concerned.
"Down by the fish factory... Next to it."
"Really?"
"Yep! Some kids from Kirkenes came in with their boats last night."
"But that's terrible!" Geir exclaimed, clearly upset by what he had just heard.
"How?"
"Well... My God Bjorn... What planet are you from?"
"Planet?"
"You're a boarder guard for heaven's sake."
"So?"
"An unregulated taxi service to Kirkenes? Hello! That's a giant hole in our fence right there, and you didn't see it?"
Bjorn was suddenly speechless from embarrassment. Geir was right. He had learned of a giant hole in the border control, and the obvious problem with this had not occurred to him.
"Well, I sure hope Frank returns soon, because this needs to be reported back to Oslo immediately," Geir said, now being the one fuming with frustration.
Tuesday, July 8, 2014
95
Bjorn walked up to the car that had stopped in front of the casino entrance. It was an old rusty Volvo, and there was no sign of it being a taxi. However, Bjorn was used to these kind of unregulated services from Oslo where illegal cab services had been quite commonplace until the new government had made a point of shutting them down, and when Bjorn learned that they had a taxi service in Lundby, this was exactly the sort of thing he had expected.
"I´m going to the checkpoint up the Neiden road," Bjorn said to the driver, who he immediately recognized as the driver of Pingo's grocery van.
"That will be forty MG," the driver said with a smile, apparently recognizing Bjorn from their brief exchange up at the checkpoint the day before.
"Well, that's practically nothing," Bjorn thought to himself as he stepped into the back seat of the old car. Then, while buckling up he commented on how he keeps bumping into the same people over and over.
"Well, that's because Lundby is a village," the man said before putting the car in motion. "We're only a few hundred people all together... I'm Igor by the way. And you must be the new guy up at the checkpoint... Bjorn, right?"
"That's correct," Bjorn answered, surprised to hear him say his name. "How do you know."
"Ante told me... Made excuses for you making yourself difficult up there."
"And Ante told you my name?"
"Well, I asked him about your name. I like knowing the names of everybody... It's a thing. A hobby if you like."
Bjorn looked out at the moonlit surroundings as the car drove up the road to the construction site, and noticing a shimmer of dawn to the east, Bjorn checked his watch.
"Kind of early for the sun to be rising," Bjorn commented as Igor turned east, towards the deep red glow.
"Well, this is the arctic," Igor said. "Another five weeks and we will have midnight sun... Besides, we are much further east than most people realize, so morning comes early."
Bjorn felt strangely happy where he was sitting, and the big Russian driving the car fascinated him.
"So, where are you from?" Bjorn asked, hoping to start a conversation.
"I´m from Nikel, just across the border."
"And what brings you to Lundby? You're not asking for asylum, are you?"
"Oh no!" the Russian replied. "That would be stupid."
"Why?"
"Well, you would not let me out again, would you?"
"No, that's true," Bjorn conceded.
Igor had a good point. Anyone asking for asylum would immediately have their passport withheld, and without a passport there's no way to get out of Lundby. Besides, Russia was, as far a he knew, not on the list of places considered dangerous enough for people to qualify for asylum, so he would probably not be taken seriously even if he had applied. But Bjorn had no time to dwell on this as Igor happily continued the conversation.
"I'm here to make some money," Igor explained. "There's no work to be found in Nikel these days, and Kirkenes is just as bad."
"It's the crisis, isn't it?" Bjorn asked rhetorically.
"Sure is. Things are getting pretty desperate."
"But isn't it terribly difficult to find work here in Lundby too?" Bjorn asked. "I mean... Ane at the fish factory is paying a lousy hundred MG per day to her workers. That's saying something, isn't it?"
"Ane is a crook!" Igor said with contempt. "But she won't be able to keep her racket going for long."
"No? Why not?"
"People will find other things to do."
"Like what?"
"Well, I'm not working for her, am I?"
"No, but not everyone can work for Pingo."
"But everyone can start their own business if they like."
"Doing what?" Bjorn asked. "This is the arctic. There's nothing here but rocks and ice."
Igor smiled as if he was harbouring a secret.
"They could make little toy animals to sell to tourists for instance," Igor said casually. "Or T-shirts with popular slogans on them, or underwear to be exported all over the world."
"And does that pay any better?" Bjorn asked.
"It does," Igor answered with a big smile.
"How do you know?"
"Because my wife runs a cooperative making these kind of things."
"She does?"
"Yep!"
"And what does she pay her workers?" Bjorn asked.
"Nothing... She only pays them for what they produce. But if you got a sewing machine, and you're good at what you do you can easily make three times as much as what Ane offers her workers."
"But what if you don't have a sewing machine? Or if you have one, but aren't very good at using it?"
"Well, then of course, you´ll have to find some other kind of work."
"Then you're screwed?" Bjorn asked.
"No. Even then there are better jobs to be found than to work for Ane. Heck... I know house maids who make more money than Ane's workers."
"So why are people still working for her?"
"Beats me."
"She's locking them in, isn't she?"
"No! I don't think so... That would be illegal. And everyone would know by now."
Bjorn had been getting so used to thinking of Lundby as a place where everything goes that he found Igor's use of the word "illegal" almost misplaced in the whole conversation.
"Illegal?" Bjorn asked, unable to formulate a good question around the term.
"As in against the law," Igor explained, as if unsure if Bjorn was struggling with his English.
"What law?" Bjorn asked.
"The legal code here in Lundby."
"There is such a thing?" Bjorn asked, genuinely surprised.
"Yeah, sure."
"And who's in charge of it?"
"Who?" Igor asked, as if he had not thought of this question before. "Everyone, I guess."
"Everyone is a lawyer?"
Igor chuckled at Bjorn's genuine puzzlement.
"I know what you're thinking," Igor said while suddenly slowing down to avoid a couple of particularly deep potholes that he evidently knew the exact location of from having driven along the road many times before. "But it's quite simple to explain, really."
"So, go ahead, educate me!" Bjorn said, challenging the man to give him a quick introduction to Lundby's legal code.
"Well, we basically stop dealing with people who don't behave," Igor explained. "If you steal or hit or imprison people, you'll soon find yourself without any friends."
"But how does that prevent people from behaving badly?"
"Well, how well do you think you would be doing without anyone wanting to do any business with you?"
"Not very well, I guess. But what if people decided to gang up on me?"
"And why would anyone want to do that?"
"I don't know. To get some kind of advantage over me maybe."
"Like what?"
Bjorn could find no answer.
"So you basically isolate people who behave badly?" Bjorn asked, not at all convinced that this qualified as a legal code.
"Yep, that's about it."
"And do you have any objective criteria for what it means to behave badly?"
"No, not really... There's always the golden rule of course."
"And that's your legal code?"
"Yep... That's all you need to know."
Bjorn shook his head in disbelief. Then, tired of the subject, Bjorn returned to what Igor had mentioned about his wife.
"So your wife runs a clothing factory here in Lundby?" Bjorn asked.
"Not a factory exactly," Igor corrected. "She runs the business from here, but many of her workers actually live in Nikel, and do all their work over there... They all work from home."
"Really? So why are you her? Wouldn't it make more sense to run it from Nikel?"
"You would think so, wouldn't you?" Igor answered. "But there is so much red tape, and they will tax you even before you make a profit. They are ruthless."
"So your wife is here to avoid taxes."
"And all the paper work they force her to do. If it was only the taxes, I think Olga might have put up with it. But all those taxes comes with so much paper work. It's just too much... And now that we got Lundby, why even bother."
"But the authorities over in Nikel can't be too pleased with this?" Bjorn asked.
"Actually... They are turning a blind eye to this at the moment... They know that if they clamp down on this, they will only spark resentment... And since there's no factory or headquarter to crack down on, it's hard for them to even start controlling this, short of going door to door to see if anyone is sewing stuff."
"But your wife runs a headquarter of sorts, doesn't she?"
"Yes she does. That's why she's here and not in Nikel. She organizes everything via the internet. The girls come to her to deliver their finished products and pick up new assignments. Olga and I haven't been back to Nikel since we left two months ago."
"And how do the girls bypass the border patrols? Why aren't they stopped at the border with their bags full of stuffed animals and underwear?"
"Well, that's one of Olga's little secrets, and I'm not going to share that with you. You are a border guard, after all."
"I´m going to the checkpoint up the Neiden road," Bjorn said to the driver, who he immediately recognized as the driver of Pingo's grocery van.
"That will be forty MG," the driver said with a smile, apparently recognizing Bjorn from their brief exchange up at the checkpoint the day before.
"Well, that's practically nothing," Bjorn thought to himself as he stepped into the back seat of the old car. Then, while buckling up he commented on how he keeps bumping into the same people over and over.
"Well, that's because Lundby is a village," the man said before putting the car in motion. "We're only a few hundred people all together... I'm Igor by the way. And you must be the new guy up at the checkpoint... Bjorn, right?"
"That's correct," Bjorn answered, surprised to hear him say his name. "How do you know."
"Ante told me... Made excuses for you making yourself difficult up there."
"And Ante told you my name?"
"Well, I asked him about your name. I like knowing the names of everybody... It's a thing. A hobby if you like."
Bjorn looked out at the moonlit surroundings as the car drove up the road to the construction site, and noticing a shimmer of dawn to the east, Bjorn checked his watch.
"Kind of early for the sun to be rising," Bjorn commented as Igor turned east, towards the deep red glow.
"Well, this is the arctic," Igor said. "Another five weeks and we will have midnight sun... Besides, we are much further east than most people realize, so morning comes early."
Bjorn felt strangely happy where he was sitting, and the big Russian driving the car fascinated him.
"So, where are you from?" Bjorn asked, hoping to start a conversation.
"I´m from Nikel, just across the border."
"And what brings you to Lundby? You're not asking for asylum, are you?"
"Oh no!" the Russian replied. "That would be stupid."
"Why?"
"Well, you would not let me out again, would you?"
"No, that's true," Bjorn conceded.
Igor had a good point. Anyone asking for asylum would immediately have their passport withheld, and without a passport there's no way to get out of Lundby. Besides, Russia was, as far a he knew, not on the list of places considered dangerous enough for people to qualify for asylum, so he would probably not be taken seriously even if he had applied. But Bjorn had no time to dwell on this as Igor happily continued the conversation.
"I'm here to make some money," Igor explained. "There's no work to be found in Nikel these days, and Kirkenes is just as bad."
"It's the crisis, isn't it?" Bjorn asked rhetorically.
"Sure is. Things are getting pretty desperate."
"But isn't it terribly difficult to find work here in Lundby too?" Bjorn asked. "I mean... Ane at the fish factory is paying a lousy hundred MG per day to her workers. That's saying something, isn't it?"
"Ane is a crook!" Igor said with contempt. "But she won't be able to keep her racket going for long."
"No? Why not?"
"People will find other things to do."
"Like what?"
"Well, I'm not working for her, am I?"
"No, but not everyone can work for Pingo."
"But everyone can start their own business if they like."
"Doing what?" Bjorn asked. "This is the arctic. There's nothing here but rocks and ice."
Igor smiled as if he was harbouring a secret.
"They could make little toy animals to sell to tourists for instance," Igor said casually. "Or T-shirts with popular slogans on them, or underwear to be exported all over the world."
"And does that pay any better?" Bjorn asked.
"It does," Igor answered with a big smile.
"How do you know?"
"Because my wife runs a cooperative making these kind of things."
"She does?"
"Yep!"
"And what does she pay her workers?" Bjorn asked.
"Nothing... She only pays them for what they produce. But if you got a sewing machine, and you're good at what you do you can easily make three times as much as what Ane offers her workers."
"But what if you don't have a sewing machine? Or if you have one, but aren't very good at using it?"
"Well, then of course, you´ll have to find some other kind of work."
"Then you're screwed?" Bjorn asked.
"No. Even then there are better jobs to be found than to work for Ane. Heck... I know house maids who make more money than Ane's workers."
"So why are people still working for her?"
"Beats me."
"She's locking them in, isn't she?"
"No! I don't think so... That would be illegal. And everyone would know by now."
Bjorn had been getting so used to thinking of Lundby as a place where everything goes that he found Igor's use of the word "illegal" almost misplaced in the whole conversation.
"Illegal?" Bjorn asked, unable to formulate a good question around the term.
"As in against the law," Igor explained, as if unsure if Bjorn was struggling with his English.
"What law?" Bjorn asked.
"The legal code here in Lundby."
"There is such a thing?" Bjorn asked, genuinely surprised.
"Yeah, sure."
"And who's in charge of it?"
"Who?" Igor asked, as if he had not thought of this question before. "Everyone, I guess."
"Everyone is a lawyer?"
Igor chuckled at Bjorn's genuine puzzlement.
"I know what you're thinking," Igor said while suddenly slowing down to avoid a couple of particularly deep potholes that he evidently knew the exact location of from having driven along the road many times before. "But it's quite simple to explain, really."
"So, go ahead, educate me!" Bjorn said, challenging the man to give him a quick introduction to Lundby's legal code.
"Well, we basically stop dealing with people who don't behave," Igor explained. "If you steal or hit or imprison people, you'll soon find yourself without any friends."
"But how does that prevent people from behaving badly?"
"Well, how well do you think you would be doing without anyone wanting to do any business with you?"
"Not very well, I guess. But what if people decided to gang up on me?"
"And why would anyone want to do that?"
"I don't know. To get some kind of advantage over me maybe."
"Like what?"
Bjorn could find no answer.
"So you basically isolate people who behave badly?" Bjorn asked, not at all convinced that this qualified as a legal code.
"Yep, that's about it."
"And do you have any objective criteria for what it means to behave badly?"
"No, not really... There's always the golden rule of course."
"And that's your legal code?"
"Yep... That's all you need to know."
Bjorn shook his head in disbelief. Then, tired of the subject, Bjorn returned to what Igor had mentioned about his wife.
"So your wife runs a clothing factory here in Lundby?" Bjorn asked.
"Not a factory exactly," Igor corrected. "She runs the business from here, but many of her workers actually live in Nikel, and do all their work over there... They all work from home."
"Really? So why are you her? Wouldn't it make more sense to run it from Nikel?"
"You would think so, wouldn't you?" Igor answered. "But there is so much red tape, and they will tax you even before you make a profit. They are ruthless."
"So your wife is here to avoid taxes."
"And all the paper work they force her to do. If it was only the taxes, I think Olga might have put up with it. But all those taxes comes with so much paper work. It's just too much... And now that we got Lundby, why even bother."
"But the authorities over in Nikel can't be too pleased with this?" Bjorn asked.
"Actually... They are turning a blind eye to this at the moment... They know that if they clamp down on this, they will only spark resentment... And since there's no factory or headquarter to crack down on, it's hard for them to even start controlling this, short of going door to door to see if anyone is sewing stuff."
"But your wife runs a headquarter of sorts, doesn't she?"
"Yes she does. That's why she's here and not in Nikel. She organizes everything via the internet. The girls come to her to deliver their finished products and pick up new assignments. Olga and I haven't been back to Nikel since we left two months ago."
"And how do the girls bypass the border patrols? Why aren't they stopped at the border with their bags full of stuffed animals and underwear?"
"Well, that's one of Olga's little secrets, and I'm not going to share that with you. You are a border guard, after all."
Monday, July 7, 2014
94
Back inside the casino everything seemed louder and more intense than when he left, and Bjorn felt again a relief from knowing that he would not have to hang around there waiting for his colleagues. He was on his way back to the checkpoint, and all he had to do was to tell his colleagues that he had found himself a taxi.
"I haven't seen Frank anywhere," Bjorn told Ante as he reached their table.
"We know," Ante answered with a smile.
"Really?"
"Yeah, he appeared out of nowhere, and now he's out on the dance floor."
Bjorn turned around to see if he could see him, and there he was showing off to two girls as if he was some sort of gift to women. The girls on their side were more than happy to indulge him, but the dance floor was so crowded that it was hard to say if they were girls who just happened to enjoy his clownish behaviour, or if they were in fact impressed by his slick appearance.
"He is not exactly hiding his gun, is he?" Bjorn said as he turned back to Ante.
"No, he's not... He clearly thinks of it as a great girl magnet."
"And it seems to be working, doesn't it?"
"That, and his gold card."
"He's showing that off too?"
"Waves it about every time he's buying a drink."
"What a clown!"
Ante smiled, and nodded in the direction of Thomas and Espen sitting at the other side of the table, engaged in conversation with an attractive blond girl. "But we're not complaining," Ante added. "He's like a honey pot the way he attracts the flies."
Bjorn looked at Ante with a frown, finding his statement a little too indiscrete. "Oh... Don't you worry," Ante said with a smile. "They are all Russians. They hardly know a word of Norwegian."
Still, Bjorn found Ante a bit out of line with his derogatory comment and promptly switched the conversation to his latest discovery.
"They got taxies here in Lundby, did you know?" Bjorn proclaimed proudly.
"Really?"
"Yeah! The bouncers at the door will get you one if you need one, and I've ordered one for myself."
"You're leaving?"
"Yeah."
"All ready?"
Bjorn shrugged his shoulders. "Well, I'm an old guy I guess," he said, partly to prevent Ante from being the first to bring up his age.
"You're not that old," Ante protested. "Come on, why don't you stay. The party has just started."
Bjorn was happy to hear Ante's protest, but he had made up his mind, and the taxi was already ordered, so he excused himself, fending off Ante's protests, and headed back to the exit. He walked briskly out of the large room, noticing on his way that Jan was standing by the table where drugs were traded openly to anyone who cared to buy some. Jan was clearly engaged in some sort of business discussion, and it struck Bjorn as odd that this man who seemed to welcome both druggies and prostitutes to his establishment was at the same time a patron of the church charity, and also enforcing strict anti smoking rules on his premises. It made absolutely no sense. But at the same time, there was something refreshingly eccentric about these inconsistent rules, and it put a smile on his face.
Stepping once again out into the cold night air, Bjorn was told by the bouncer that his car would arrive in about five minutes. "Just enough time to have a cigarette," Bjorn answered, letting the bouncer know that he would be standing over by the paraffin heaters having a smoke while waiting.
The bouncer nodded silently, and Bjorn went over to the designated smokers' area to have his cigarette. There were several other people standing there, and some were sitting in the chairs that had been put outside with woolly blankets for the guests to cover up while having their smoke. But there were no familiar faces among the smokers, and Bjorn was no longer in any mood to start a conversation, so he smoked his cigarette in silence, looking idly over at the market, the church up the hill, the moon, and the people coming and going.
Then, just as he finished his cigarette, a car pulled up to the curb, and the bouncer signalled to Bjorn that this was his taxi.
"I haven't seen Frank anywhere," Bjorn told Ante as he reached their table.
"We know," Ante answered with a smile.
"Really?"
"Yeah, he appeared out of nowhere, and now he's out on the dance floor."
Bjorn turned around to see if he could see him, and there he was showing off to two girls as if he was some sort of gift to women. The girls on their side were more than happy to indulge him, but the dance floor was so crowded that it was hard to say if they were girls who just happened to enjoy his clownish behaviour, or if they were in fact impressed by his slick appearance.
"He is not exactly hiding his gun, is he?" Bjorn said as he turned back to Ante.
"No, he's not... He clearly thinks of it as a great girl magnet."
"And it seems to be working, doesn't it?"
"That, and his gold card."
"He's showing that off too?"
"Waves it about every time he's buying a drink."
"What a clown!"
Ante smiled, and nodded in the direction of Thomas and Espen sitting at the other side of the table, engaged in conversation with an attractive blond girl. "But we're not complaining," Ante added. "He's like a honey pot the way he attracts the flies."
Bjorn looked at Ante with a frown, finding his statement a little too indiscrete. "Oh... Don't you worry," Ante said with a smile. "They are all Russians. They hardly know a word of Norwegian."
Still, Bjorn found Ante a bit out of line with his derogatory comment and promptly switched the conversation to his latest discovery.
"They got taxies here in Lundby, did you know?" Bjorn proclaimed proudly.
"Really?"
"Yeah! The bouncers at the door will get you one if you need one, and I've ordered one for myself."
"You're leaving?"
"Yeah."
"All ready?"
Bjorn shrugged his shoulders. "Well, I'm an old guy I guess," he said, partly to prevent Ante from being the first to bring up his age.
"You're not that old," Ante protested. "Come on, why don't you stay. The party has just started."
Bjorn was happy to hear Ante's protest, but he had made up his mind, and the taxi was already ordered, so he excused himself, fending off Ante's protests, and headed back to the exit. He walked briskly out of the large room, noticing on his way that Jan was standing by the table where drugs were traded openly to anyone who cared to buy some. Jan was clearly engaged in some sort of business discussion, and it struck Bjorn as odd that this man who seemed to welcome both druggies and prostitutes to his establishment was at the same time a patron of the church charity, and also enforcing strict anti smoking rules on his premises. It made absolutely no sense. But at the same time, there was something refreshingly eccentric about these inconsistent rules, and it put a smile on his face.
Stepping once again out into the cold night air, Bjorn was told by the bouncer that his car would arrive in about five minutes. "Just enough time to have a cigarette," Bjorn answered, letting the bouncer know that he would be standing over by the paraffin heaters having a smoke while waiting.
The bouncer nodded silently, and Bjorn went over to the designated smokers' area to have his cigarette. There were several other people standing there, and some were sitting in the chairs that had been put outside with woolly blankets for the guests to cover up while having their smoke. But there were no familiar faces among the smokers, and Bjorn was no longer in any mood to start a conversation, so he smoked his cigarette in silence, looking idly over at the market, the church up the hill, the moon, and the people coming and going.
Then, just as he finished his cigarette, a car pulled up to the curb, and the bouncer signalled to Bjorn that this was his taxi.
Friday, July 4, 2014
93
The sense of relief that Bjorn felt on learning that he could in fact get a car to get him back to the checkpoint was surprisingly strong, and he thanked the security officer wholeheartedly for the tip. Suddenly, Bjorn had gone from being more or less trapped in Lundby to being completely free to get back to his bed without having to wait for his colleagues, and this made everything suddenly seem so much better. "What a great place this is!" Bjorn thought to himself as he crossed the street, heading directly for one of the bouncers.
"Hi! Is it true that you can help me get home?" Bjorn asked, deliberately formulating his question in an open and nonspecific way to let the bouncer make recommendations himself.
"Depends where you live," the bouncer answered. "If you're from Neiden, you're stuck."
"How about Kirkenes?" Bjorn asked, curious to hear what kind of services were available.
"Then, you might have a chance."
"Really?"
"Yeah, there are two boats going in that direction. You'll find them over by the fish factory... Kids from Kirkenes who've come over to buy cheap stuff and make a few bucks ferrying people home."
"That's a good idea!"
"It sure is. Who needs the ferry over at the port when you can get a boat directly from here?"
"True!"
The bouncer who had answered Bjorn without loosing sight of the guests coming and going, suddenly stepped forward to stop a beggar from harassing a couple of smokers.
"No begging here!" the bouncer said firmly. "If you need help, go up to the church. They run a charity."
"They are closed," the beggar protested.
"No, they are not. But even so, you can't go around hassling people here."
"Give me a break, will you."
"Not here I won't. Off you go!"
The beggar shrugged his shoulders and left, crossing the street back to the market where he came from. But even before the beggar reached the market, the Lance security officer was heading towards him, clearly prepared to send him away from the market too.
"I'm sorry about that," the bouncer said politely to the smokers who had followed the brief exchange with some discomfort. "But there is really no need for people to go around begging in this village. There are plenty of jobs for everyone."
The smokers thanked the bouncer for his intervention, but gave clear indication that they would not have minded giving the poor guy some spare change. However, the bouncer shook his head, telling them that such charity is better given to the church where they have a program to take care of the poor.
"You see that box over there?" the bouncer said, pointing to an old fashion collection box, clearly taken right out of the church. "Put whatever you would have liked to give to the beggar into it, and it will find its way to the right people."
"You think so?" one of the smokers asked sceptically. "More likely to end up being spent by some fat cat, I'd say."
The bouncer smiled politely. "Well, it's the charity that Jan supports, and he's not known for giving money away to fat cats."
"So Jan is a friend of Frederico?" Bjorn asked as he followed the bouncer back to his station by the door.
"A friend from college, I believe," the bouncer answered, still not paying much attention to Bjorn.
Bjorn found it interesting how everyone seemed to know everyone in the village, but did not pursue the thought. Instead he asked the question he had originally intended to ask.
"So you need a car?" the bouncer asked a little annoyed by Bjorn's continued presence. "Why didn't you say that right away?"
"To the checkpoint," Bjorn explained, ignoring the bouncer's rhetorical question.
"At the port?"
"No! Up the Lundby Neiden road."
"Okay," the bouncer answered, fishing out his smart phone from his pocket. "You need it now?"
"Can you give me ten minutes, I'll have to say goodbye to my buddies inside."
"Sure, go ahead, I'll get you a car."
"What will it cost me? Do you know?"
"It's sixty MG to the port, so it will be less than that."
"Less than sixty! Well, that's not much is it?"
"Not to you maybe, but it is to us," the bouncer answered with a polite smile.
"Hi! Is it true that you can help me get home?" Bjorn asked, deliberately formulating his question in an open and nonspecific way to let the bouncer make recommendations himself.
"Depends where you live," the bouncer answered. "If you're from Neiden, you're stuck."
"How about Kirkenes?" Bjorn asked, curious to hear what kind of services were available.
"Then, you might have a chance."
"Really?"
"Yeah, there are two boats going in that direction. You'll find them over by the fish factory... Kids from Kirkenes who've come over to buy cheap stuff and make a few bucks ferrying people home."
"That's a good idea!"
"It sure is. Who needs the ferry over at the port when you can get a boat directly from here?"
"True!"
The bouncer who had answered Bjorn without loosing sight of the guests coming and going, suddenly stepped forward to stop a beggar from harassing a couple of smokers.
"No begging here!" the bouncer said firmly. "If you need help, go up to the church. They run a charity."
"They are closed," the beggar protested.
"No, they are not. But even so, you can't go around hassling people here."
"Give me a break, will you."
"Not here I won't. Off you go!"
The beggar shrugged his shoulders and left, crossing the street back to the market where he came from. But even before the beggar reached the market, the Lance security officer was heading towards him, clearly prepared to send him away from the market too.
"I'm sorry about that," the bouncer said politely to the smokers who had followed the brief exchange with some discomfort. "But there is really no need for people to go around begging in this village. There are plenty of jobs for everyone."
The smokers thanked the bouncer for his intervention, but gave clear indication that they would not have minded giving the poor guy some spare change. However, the bouncer shook his head, telling them that such charity is better given to the church where they have a program to take care of the poor.
"You see that box over there?" the bouncer said, pointing to an old fashion collection box, clearly taken right out of the church. "Put whatever you would have liked to give to the beggar into it, and it will find its way to the right people."
"You think so?" one of the smokers asked sceptically. "More likely to end up being spent by some fat cat, I'd say."
The bouncer smiled politely. "Well, it's the charity that Jan supports, and he's not known for giving money away to fat cats."
"So Jan is a friend of Frederico?" Bjorn asked as he followed the bouncer back to his station by the door.
"A friend from college, I believe," the bouncer answered, still not paying much attention to Bjorn.
Bjorn found it interesting how everyone seemed to know everyone in the village, but did not pursue the thought. Instead he asked the question he had originally intended to ask.
"So you need a car?" the bouncer asked a little annoyed by Bjorn's continued presence. "Why didn't you say that right away?"
"To the checkpoint," Bjorn explained, ignoring the bouncer's rhetorical question.
"At the port?"
"No! Up the Lundby Neiden road."
"Okay," the bouncer answered, fishing out his smart phone from his pocket. "You need it now?"
"Can you give me ten minutes, I'll have to say goodbye to my buddies inside."
"Sure, go ahead, I'll get you a car."
"What will it cost me? Do you know?"
"It's sixty MG to the port, so it will be less than that."
"Less than sixty! Well, that's not much is it?"
"Not to you maybe, but it is to us," the bouncer answered with a polite smile.
Thursday, July 3, 2014
92
Bjorn was in no hurry to get back to his colleagues in the casino, but the cold was getting to him, so he did not feel like hanging around outside for much longer either. What he really wanted was simply to get back to the checkpoint and into bed, and once this thought settled with him he immediately started looking around for a taxi.
But there was no taxi to be seen, and Bjorn quickly realized that the village was way too small to support its own taxi operator. He was in other words stuck in the village until his colleagues too felt like going back to the barracks, and he felt a sting of resentment towards them for it having to be this way. However, he quickly supressed this feeling, telling himself that it really was him who was the odd one out, and that he had no reason to feel any kind of resentment towards his colleagues who had been nothing but kind towards him.
Bjorn finished his baguette and tossed its paper wrapping in a make shift garbage bin. Then, taking a last wide look of the market, he made up his mind to go back in and join the others in whatever conversation they were having. But just as he was about to pace quickly over to the casino, he caught sight of the security officer that had stopped him and his colleagues over at Nora's place, and seeing that the security officer looked rather idle where he was standing, Bjorn decided to ask him how things went after their last meeting.
The security officer recognized Bjorn from their earlier meeting, and was happy to answer his question.
"I have no idea what they were up to," he explained. "The kids I mean... But I told them to go back home, and I haven't seen them around since."
Bjorn nodded. Then, hoping to start a conversation Bjorn asked about the kids roaming around with no apparent purpose.
"Yeah, it is a problem. But many of them are finding useful things to do," the security officer explained.
"Like carrying groceries for people?" Bjorn suggested, thinking of his own experience over at Pingo.
"Yes, and other things too. Many of those dolls over there have been made by kids," the officer explained, pointing to the stall with the fluffy animals.
"Child labour?" Bjorn asked rhetorically.
"Yes, but it beats having them roaming the streets."
Bjorn was again shocked to learn about the hard reality of life in Lundby, but kept it to himself. And seen from the perspective of the security officer, having the kids locked up in factories all day must indeed be a good thing, so he simply nodded in agreement.
"And how are things going regarding the ongoing conflict with the stall owners?" Bjorn asked, curious to hear what this representative for Pedro was making of it.
"Not very good, I'm afraid," the man commented honestly. "They are pushing very hard for right out annexation."
"And you are just going to let it happen?"
"There's not really all that much we can do at the moment," the man continued, surprisingly open about the whole thing. "They are armed, so it is not like we can simply push them aside."
"And they outnumber you too, don't they?"
"Sure do! About twenty to one. Not the sort of odds you want to operate with."
Bjorn looked around, as if assessing the man's odds in a gun fight. Not that it was necessary in order to agree with the man's assessment, but more to get a full perspective on the hopelessness of Pedro's position.
"So, Pedro is going to give in to their demands?" Bjorn asked.
"No. But he isn't going to resolve this through brute force," the man explained. "It's not the way he does things, and it would be suicidal anyway. You won't see me opening any shots against these guys, and I don't think anyone else would be crazy enough to do that either."
The security officer looked over at one of the stall owners, giving him a friendly nod.
"So you are friendly with these guys?" Bjorn asked puzzled.
"Sure, I'm patrolling the square and the rest of the neighbourhood, and they appreciate that of course."
"And they are paying for that?"
"No, they aren't. But this is the centre of the village, and could easily become the centre of petty theft and thievery. Our clients are mainly people living in this area, and they are naturally interested in things being safe and orderly."
"And it does not hurt establishing a presence here in the village square either?" Bjorn suggested cheekily.
"Of course not."
"And the stall owners are fine with that?"
"Yes and no... They were sceptical to start with, but I think they appreciate my presence now. There is less petty thievery going on now after I've started patrolling this place."
Bjorn looked around again. The place looked peaceful and safe, and the teenagers who had previously roamed the place were indeed a good deal fewer.
"And the petty thieves aren't just doing their thievery other places while you are patrolling this place?" Bjorn asked.
"No... That's not how it works. The kids have started to look for alternative things to do. Crime has a tendency to stop once it does not pay to be a criminal."
"You're right," Bjorn agreed. "And I guess they risk getting shot if they try to break into any of those houses around here."
"Indeed, they do."
Bjorn could relate to the simple logic presented by the security officer. It resonated with his view of the world, and he felt a certain pride in being occupied in the same sort of business as the man in front of him. Bjorn too was an officer of the law. He too was occupied in the business of keeping the bad guys under control, and promoting peace and prosperity by forcing the would be thieves to find better things to do than to steal from people.
And on this happy note, Bjorn was again struck by a desire to return to the barracks. To get some well deserved rest. To celebrate, as it were, his return to society as a useful and productive member.
"There aren't any taxis in this place by any chance?" Bjorn asked, fully expecting the answer to be negative.
"Sure... Not taxis exactly... But those guys over there can get a car for you if you need one," the officer answered, pointing to Jan's two bouncers over at the casino.
But there was no taxi to be seen, and Bjorn quickly realized that the village was way too small to support its own taxi operator. He was in other words stuck in the village until his colleagues too felt like going back to the barracks, and he felt a sting of resentment towards them for it having to be this way. However, he quickly supressed this feeling, telling himself that it really was him who was the odd one out, and that he had no reason to feel any kind of resentment towards his colleagues who had been nothing but kind towards him.
Bjorn finished his baguette and tossed its paper wrapping in a make shift garbage bin. Then, taking a last wide look of the market, he made up his mind to go back in and join the others in whatever conversation they were having. But just as he was about to pace quickly over to the casino, he caught sight of the security officer that had stopped him and his colleagues over at Nora's place, and seeing that the security officer looked rather idle where he was standing, Bjorn decided to ask him how things went after their last meeting.
The security officer recognized Bjorn from their earlier meeting, and was happy to answer his question.
"I have no idea what they were up to," he explained. "The kids I mean... But I told them to go back home, and I haven't seen them around since."
Bjorn nodded. Then, hoping to start a conversation Bjorn asked about the kids roaming around with no apparent purpose.
"Yeah, it is a problem. But many of them are finding useful things to do," the security officer explained.
"Like carrying groceries for people?" Bjorn suggested, thinking of his own experience over at Pingo.
"Yes, and other things too. Many of those dolls over there have been made by kids," the officer explained, pointing to the stall with the fluffy animals.
"Child labour?" Bjorn asked rhetorically.
"Yes, but it beats having them roaming the streets."
Bjorn was again shocked to learn about the hard reality of life in Lundby, but kept it to himself. And seen from the perspective of the security officer, having the kids locked up in factories all day must indeed be a good thing, so he simply nodded in agreement.
"And how are things going regarding the ongoing conflict with the stall owners?" Bjorn asked, curious to hear what this representative for Pedro was making of it.
"Not very good, I'm afraid," the man commented honestly. "They are pushing very hard for right out annexation."
"And you are just going to let it happen?"
"There's not really all that much we can do at the moment," the man continued, surprisingly open about the whole thing. "They are armed, so it is not like we can simply push them aside."
"And they outnumber you too, don't they?"
"Sure do! About twenty to one. Not the sort of odds you want to operate with."
Bjorn looked around, as if assessing the man's odds in a gun fight. Not that it was necessary in order to agree with the man's assessment, but more to get a full perspective on the hopelessness of Pedro's position.
"So, Pedro is going to give in to their demands?" Bjorn asked.
"No. But he isn't going to resolve this through brute force," the man explained. "It's not the way he does things, and it would be suicidal anyway. You won't see me opening any shots against these guys, and I don't think anyone else would be crazy enough to do that either."
The security officer looked over at one of the stall owners, giving him a friendly nod.
"So you are friendly with these guys?" Bjorn asked puzzled.
"Sure, I'm patrolling the square and the rest of the neighbourhood, and they appreciate that of course."
"And they are paying for that?"
"No, they aren't. But this is the centre of the village, and could easily become the centre of petty theft and thievery. Our clients are mainly people living in this area, and they are naturally interested in things being safe and orderly."
"And it does not hurt establishing a presence here in the village square either?" Bjorn suggested cheekily.
"Of course not."
"And the stall owners are fine with that?"
"Yes and no... They were sceptical to start with, but I think they appreciate my presence now. There is less petty thievery going on now after I've started patrolling this place."
Bjorn looked around again. The place looked peaceful and safe, and the teenagers who had previously roamed the place were indeed a good deal fewer.
"And the petty thieves aren't just doing their thievery other places while you are patrolling this place?" Bjorn asked.
"No... That's not how it works. The kids have started to look for alternative things to do. Crime has a tendency to stop once it does not pay to be a criminal."
"You're right," Bjorn agreed. "And I guess they risk getting shot if they try to break into any of those houses around here."
"Indeed, they do."
Bjorn could relate to the simple logic presented by the security officer. It resonated with his view of the world, and he felt a certain pride in being occupied in the same sort of business as the man in front of him. Bjorn too was an officer of the law. He too was occupied in the business of keeping the bad guys under control, and promoting peace and prosperity by forcing the would be thieves to find better things to do than to steal from people.
And on this happy note, Bjorn was again struck by a desire to return to the barracks. To get some well deserved rest. To celebrate, as it were, his return to society as a useful and productive member.
"There aren't any taxis in this place by any chance?" Bjorn asked, fully expecting the answer to be negative.
"Sure... Not taxis exactly... But those guys over there can get a car for you if you need one," the officer answered, pointing to Jan's two bouncers over at the casino.
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