61

Dinner was a feast as always, and Ante had selected a white wine to go with the salmon, potatoes and cucumber salad. The wine was unusually fresh and had a light sparkle to it. But it was by no means a sparkling wine. There was only a light pleasant tingle when he drank it. Curious to find out more about the wine, Bjorn reached for the bottle to take a closer look at the label while his colleagues dug into their portions, complimenting Ante on yet another fine meal.

"So this is what Portuguese white wine tastes like?" Bjorn remarked.
"Green wine!" Ante corrected. "It is a green wine?"
"Looks like white wine to me," Frank commented.
"Branco!" Bjorn added. "It says branco here in small letters. Doesn't branco mean white in Latin speak?"
"But it says vinho verde in big fat letters above the branco, doesn't it? What do you think that means?"
"Beats me!" Bjorn replied. "I don't speak Portuguese."
"Well, it means green wine. That is what it says: green wine!"
"Well, literally it says wine, green, white."
"So now you're suddenly an expert in Portuguese?"

Bjorn smiled at Ante. "Well, am I right, or am I right?"
"Okay, it's a white green wine," Ante admitted. "Not that I've ever come across a red green wine... But any way... The sparkle and freshness of the wine is typical for green wines."
"So it's a white wine made in a special way?" Espen suggested.
"Yeah, I guess so," Ante replied, happy to go along with Espen's suggestion.
"So there may well be red wines made this same way," Espen continued.
"I guess..."
"I wonder what that would taste like."

There was a brief silence while the wine drinkers around the table were trying to imagine a red wine with a light sparkle.

"Maybe a sweet one would be drinkable, if it was chilled," Thomas suggested.
"Sweet and sour with a light sparkle," Ante mused. "I guess that could be kind of nice."

There was another brief silence which Bjorn broke by bringing up Pedro and Lundby in the conversation.

"Do you think Pedro is behind this in some way?" Bjorn asked of the group. "I mean, Pedro is Portuguese, right? And there were an awful lot of Portuguese wines and foreign cheeses in Pingo."
"Duh... Pingo is Portuguese. Of course they have Portuguese products for sale," Ante answered, happy to get back at Bjorn.
"Well, excuse me for not knowing that," Bjorn retorted with feigned hurt feelings.
"It's hardly likely to be a coincidence that Pingo is from Portugal given that Pedro is Portuguese," Thomas continued. "And Pedro is the one in charge down there, right? So, of course he's behind this."

Bjorn had to admit that it didn't take a genius to figure out that things necessarily had to be related to those in charge of the village, but was Thomas correct in his assertion that Pedro was in charge of the village?

"What about Jan," Bjorn protested. "He owns the place. Doesn't he? Why would he let a foreigner take over?"
"You're right," Thomas answered thoughtfully. "They must be cooperating in some way."

There was again silence around the table. Then, just as Thomas was about to say something, John asked, "have any of you guys ever seen Pedro?"
"No..." Everyone had to admit that they had never seen him.
"But who else has invited Pingo to set up shop in Lundby?" Thomas protested.
"I don't know," John answered "But I don't think the man exists. I've been looking him up, and I haven't found anything."
"You googled his full name, and you didn't find anything?" Bjorn asked in amazement.
"No. Nothing, except for what has been coming out of the mainstream media."
"So, you did find something?" Thomas corrected.
"Only the official stuff. Nothing else."

The wine drinkers all looked at John with his glass of water. Then they looked at each other before breaking out in light laughter. "You really are paranoid, aren't you?" Frank blurted out with a big friendly smile.

60

"You guys are still upset with us, aren't you?" Bjorn asked, breaking the silence in the kitchen.
"For what you did to us, you mean?"
"Yes..."
"Well, it's not like anyone alive today remember much of it. But it was bad. There's no doubt about that. And it is easy to start blaming all sorts of things on what happened back then."
"Like what?"
"Like the fact that most of my family is unemployed for instance..."
"You think that's because of what happened back then?"
"Nah... I don't know... Many Samis are actually doing quite well."
"Like Jan with his casino, you mean?"

Ante shook his head. "No... I wasn't really thinking of him. I was more thinking of all the Samis who've ended up as average middle class Norwegians."

Bjorn nodded, and there was again silence between the two men. Ante rose from the table, tossed the rest of his coffee in the kitchen sink, and started to set the table in final preparation for dinner.

"Jan is different..." Ante said thoughtfully as he lay out the cutlery. "You know... By the time they passed the Reparation Act, most Samis had given up their land claims. But Jan's family and a handful of others were still able to document ownership of certain areas... And that's how Jan ended up owning most of the land around here."

59

Ante took out three filets of salmon from the fridge and lay them down on a baking sheet. Then he proceeded to marinate the fish with a mix of olive oil, salt, pepper, dill weed and lemon juice. It looked very promising, and Bjorn could feel how he was getting hungry just by looking at how Ante prepared the fish.

"You know... A strange thing happened while I was out in the glass box today," Bjorn said, breaking the silence and changing the topic of discussion away from taxes and politicians.
"And?" Ante asked with curiosity.
"There was this woman... She had no papers on her... And she had her daughter with her..."
"Yeah?"
"And she told me, dead serious, that she had no plans to leave the village any time soon."
"So?"
"Well, isn't that odd?"
"Why is that odd? There are quite a few people living in the village. Like Ane for instance."
"Yeah, but this woman was like... like she was running away from someone."

Ante dumped a sack full of potatoes into a large pot of water. Then, after some thinking, he asked if the woman was Sami.

"No! Why?" Bjorn asked puzzled.
"She was from around here, though?" Ante continued.
"Sure. She talked like you... Same dialect."
"I bet she was running away from the child protection services."
"The what?" Bjorn asked, surprised by Ante's quick conclusion.
"The child protection services," Ante repeated. "Surly, you have heard of them."
"Yeah! But why are you so sure that this woman was running away from them."
"Who else could it be?"
"Her husband, maybe?"
"Well, I guess it could be... More likely to be the child protectors, though. Don't you think?"

Bjorn could think of no better explanation. And the woman had come across as slightly manic, so it would not surprise him if she was in fact in need of help of some kind.

"Isn't it strange how those most in need of help, usually are the first to run away from it?" Bjorn asked.
"Like that woman, you mean?"
"Yeah."
"But is it really help if those you are helping feel like they have to escape?"
"Well... No..." Bjorn replied reluctantly, sensing a flaw in Ante's reasoning, yet unable to put his finger on it directly. "Maybe not."
"They were probably about to take the girl away from her, and she decided to flee," Ante continued.
"But what if she's really incapable of taking proper care of her daughter?" Bjorn asked. "I mean, some parents are really terrible. You've heard the stories, haven't you?"
"I have indeed," Ante replied.

Ante poured himself a cup of coffee, offering Bjorn some too. But Bjorn did not feel like drinking coffee right before dinner. And he did not feel like ending the discussion or change the topic either.

"So what do you think?" Bjorn asked.
"About the woman?"
"Yeah."
"Well, she got away, didn't she?"
"Yes, and what do you think about that?"
"Well... Good for her! She got away. I'm sure she's happy about that."
"And her daughter? What about her?"
"Did she look sad or unhappy?"
"Well..." Bjorn said while trying to conger up the memory of what the girl looked like. "She just sat there, neither happy nor sad, I think."
"So she didn't look like she was abused in any way? She didn't look like she wanted to run away from mother?"
"No."
"Then, good for her too! She got away with her mother. How is that bad?"
"But what if the woman is a terrible mother?"
"We don't know that though?"
"But the child protectors probably think so."
"They probably do."
"So... Doesn't that tell us something?"
"Well... It explains why the woman was fleeing with her daughter."

Bjorn sighed in frustration. But seeing that Ante was grinning at him triumphantly, he sensed that Ante was simply playing the devil's advocate, and that he could easily poke hole in his argument by exposing this.

"You really don't trust the government, do you?" Bjorn asked with a hint of sarcasm in order to see if Ante was just promoting one of Thomas' anti-government ideas, or truly meaning what he was saying.
"And why should I? I'm Sami after all!" Ante answered with no hint of irony. "And you know, Bjorn, we don't really know if she was running away from the child protection services or not. We are just speculating."

And with this, Ante effectively stopped the discussion. His reference to the plight of the Samis was enough to derail it. And it also explained why he had wondered about the woman's ethnicity. A lingering distrust of government agents and their motives must have been why he asked if the woman happened to be Sami.

58

Knowing that Frank's bridge playing colleagues would soon appear, Bjorn rose from his chair and headed back to his room. But just as he was about to go up the stairs he heard Ante swear loudly in the kitchen. Suddenly remembering his desire to talk to Ante, and curious to know what made Ante so furious, Bjorn turned away from the stairs and entered the kitchen instead.

"So, what's going on?" Bjorn asked.
"These darn peppercorns refuse to go into the grinder," Ante replied. "And now I managed to drop the whole bag on the floor."

There were little black peppercorns everywhere, both on the counter and on the floor. But the paper bag was still intact, with most of its content inside of it.

"You want some help with that?" Bjorn asked.
"Yeah, if you could," Ante replied before picking up the paper bag. "Can you hold this funnel for me while I pour the corns into the grinder?"

Happy to help, Bjorn did as he was asked, and pretty soon the grinder was full of pepper.

"So what do you think of us soon having to act as customs officers here at the check point?" Bjorn asked as Ante put away the bag with the remaining peppercorns.
"Are we?" Ante asked. "That's news to me."
"That's because we haven't actually been asked to do it yet," Bjorn replied. "But Frank expects it to happen quite soon, and I think he's right. There were quite a few cars coming in from Neiden, and returning with cartloads of cheap stuff."
"And we can't have that, can we?" Ante replied dryly while picking up a small handheld vacuum cleaner from a cupboard.
"Exactly! Its smuggling. And we will surely have to deal with it, sooner or later."
"Yeah, because cheap stuff is bad for people, right?" Ante said with a big smile to soften his sarcasm.
"Eh... but the smuggling will hurt the economy," Bjorn ventured.

Bjorn felt less than sure of his last statement, and Ante did not seem bothered to go directly into any discussion about it, turning on the vacuum cleaner to rid the counter and the floor of the spilled peppercorns instead.

"And in what way will the smuggling hurt the local economy?" Ante asked as he turned off the noisy handheld device.
"Well, its unfair for the local merchants in Neiden and Kirkenes, isn't it?" Bjorn suggested. "After all, they have to pay taxes, and that gives Pingo an unfair advantage."

Ante put away the vacuum cleaner before turning to Bjorn.

"So, we will soon have to tax everyone leaving the colony with more than a minimum of stuff in order to help the merchants in Neiden and Kirkenes."
"Yeah. I mean... Or else, they will go out of business, right? And that would hurt the local economy."
"So, why not give the merchants in Kirkenes and Neiden a tax break. That way everybody would be happy. People would get their cheap stuff closer to home, and the merchants can compete on an equal footing with Pingo."
"But we have to pay taxes!" Bjorn insisted. "I mean... how else are we going to pay for schools and health services, and..."
"And the poor?" Ante suggested helpfully.
"Exactly!"
"How, indeed!" Ante confirmed with a smile.

Bjorn was a little confused by Ante's lingering sarcasm. Was he serious, or just pulling his leg?

"So you agree that we will soon have to act as customs officers in order to even out the playing field."
"We will indeed," Ante replied, still smiling. "I'm sure Frank is right."
"So what was all that about?" Bjorn asked, still puzzled by Ante's sarcasm.
"I've been listening too much to Thomas lately, I guess," Ante replied. "That man is an anti-tax fanatic, and I thought I'd try out his logic on you."
"He is?" Bjorn asked, curious to hear Ante's view of Thomas.
"Haven't you noticed how he always comes up with those so called voluntary solutions to everything?"
"Yeah, now that you mention it... He's not a great fan of government solutions, is he?"
"Not at all," Ante confirmed. "He has some valid points, though."
"You think so?"
"Yeah, I do... Once you start thinking of government agents as a bunch of corrupt crooks, all sorts of things suddenly start to make sense."
"Such as?" Bjorn asked.
"The war in Libya for instance."
"Yeah?"
"Well... It's all about the oil, isn't it. Why do you think the foreign minister is so eager to send troops down there?"
"To protect our interests and help the people rebuild their nation," Bjorn replied, parroting what he had heard the foreign minister say on TV.
"And what exactly is our so called interest in Libya?"
"Oil."
"Exactly!"

Bjorn shook his head. Ante's point was just too simple minded. The profits from the state controlled oil company was after all funnelled into the national coffers, thereby providing vital funding for social services such as education and health care. Without the profits from oil wells abroad, much of the welfare state would have to be dismantled. Protecting the oil fields from terrorists was clearly of national importance, as well as a good thing for the locals in Libya.

"Okay! So they are all a bunch of crooks!" Bjorn replied, this time being the one with heavy sarcasm in his voice.

57

"Do you think we will get any kind of compensation for having to do the extra work?" Bjorn asked after letting the thought of becoming a customs officer sink in.
"I would think so," Frank answered. "It will be a promotion for all of us."
"More money for just about the same amount of work in other words."
"Well, don't pop the Champagne just yet. We don't actually know if they will solve their problem by promoting us. But it seems to me to be their only sensible option."

The sports updates were nearing their end, and the two men turned their attention to the TV in anticipation of the four o'clock news. "Let's see if they have more on us today," Frank said with a happy voice. "I love the way we are being turned into celebrities up here."

And sure enough, the Lundby project was once again featured in one of the news bulletins. This time the focus was on a demonstration in front of the parliament building in Oslo, which allegedly had turned nasty. However, all that could be seen from the news footage was a small crowd of people holding anti-Lundby posters and banners, shouting insults at another crowd holding anti-immigration posters. The whole incident seemed staged and phoney, and left Bjorn completely unimpressed.

In other news, there was an high ranking political advisor resigning in the US over some blunder in Syria, which made Bjorn immediately think of the strange allegations he had come across on the web. "So they were right all along, those conspiracy theorists," Bjorn thought to himself as the news turned to the economy, which allegedly was looking more and more promising. Stocks were up, house prices were up, and high end stores were seeing record sales across the board. "The trickle down effect of this boom is expected to be noticeable in the coming quarters," the anchor woman explained. "However, a self sustained recovery is still some way off, and monetary easing will therefore be needed for at least another year."

"Do you understand any of this babble?" Bjorn asked rhetorically as the news turned to the weather.
"You mean about the economy?" Frank asked. "No I don't. But I'm not an investor."
"No, that's true," Bjorn said with a nod. "But this is the whole economy they are talking about. What if no one know what's going on?"
"Oh, but I'm sure the right people know well enough what they are doing," Frank answered with a smile. "It's not like we've put complete idiots in charge of the economy."
"And you think they are doing things to benefit us all, or just themselves."
"You are a bit of a conspiracy theorist, aren't you?" Frank answered with a cheeky smile.
"I guess I am," Bjorn admitted. "But so far only the richest have benefited from all the economic easing and tweaking. Don't you think that a bit suspicious? Do you really believe in the so called trickle down effect?"
"Not really. But I sure hope it works. Not least for their own sake."
"What do you mean?" Bjorn asked, knowing full well what Frank was thinking.
"Well... I think a lot of people may get very angry if things don't improve pretty soon."
"And you call me a conspiracy theorists?" Bjorn replied with a cheeky smile of his own.

56

Bjorn went into the kitchen first thing after being relieved from his duty, where he dropped off the two thermoses he had been using over at the kitchen sink. Ante was nowhere to be seen, which disappointed Bjorn a bit since he felt like talking to him about the strange incident with the woman and her daughter. Why would anyone drive all the way to Lundby with no passport and with no intention of leaving the village any time soon? It made no sense.

Bjorn made himself a sandwich, hoping that Ante would return while he was busy making it. However, Ante did not appear, so Bjorn took his sandwich and drifted into the living room in the hope of finding him there, but the only one there was Frank, watching the latest sports updates as usual.

Sensing Bjorn's presence, Frank turned and looked at him.

"So?" Frank asked, noticing how Bjorn seemed lost in his thoughts.
"Have you seen Ante?" Bjorn asked.
"No."
"Eh... There were quite a few people going in to Lundby to buy stuff today," Bjorn said, feeling a need to say something of substance.
"Yes?"
"People have clearly discovered the low prices of everything down there."
"Yes. It is getting a bit out of hand," Frank concurred. "Trond has already reported this to Oslo."
"Trond?"
"You know Trond! The guy in charge of the check point over at the port. People have really started to flock to Lundby for bargains. So much so that it is hurting local businesses in Kirkenes."
"It's that bad, is it?" Bjorn asked, seating himself in the chair next to Frank.
"It is, and I believe they take the problem quite seriously in Oslo."
"Silly mistake, wasn't it?" Bjorn asked, curious to hear what Frank thought of the legal loophole. "They should have seen this coming."
"It is always easy to see things clearly in retrospect," Frank observed. "I seriously doubt that anyone thought that Pedro would invite Pingo to set up shop in Lundby when they were negotiating this."

Bjorn nodded thoughtfully. "What do you think they had in mind?"
"Cheap labour for the fish processing plant and the iron mine, I guess," Frank suggested. "Which is exactly what they got, by the way."
Bjorn agreed. "It's a modern day gulag, isn't it?"
"Exactly! It is a capitalist version of what they had in the Soviet Union, which means that everyone is paid a minimum wage and left to fend for themselves, instead of getting food hand outs from the prison guards. And that's the crucial point that the bureaucrats in Oslo must have overlooked. A capitalist version of a gulag will have a grocery store in stead of food hand outs. And with Pedro not being obliged to levy taxes on behalf of the Norwegian government, Pingo's prices come out lower than those in Kirkenes and Neiden."

"And that was the deal, wasn't it?" Bjorn asked rhetorically after a bit of thinking. "Pedro agreed to take on responsibility for the asylum seekers on the condition that he would not have to answer to the government regarding anything but the basic human rights of the detainees."
"That was the deal," Frank confirmed. "And since Lundby was completely uninhabited at the time of the negotiations, the focus must have been entirely on the savings that the state could draw from the deal."
"And if anyone wondered what Pedro was hoping to get out of the deal, he could simply mention the cheap labour," Bjorn continued, expanding on Frank's thought.
"Exactly! They all knew full well that they were setting up a gulag. The bureaucrats simply assumed that it would be of the old fashioned kind. Their mistake was quite understandable, when you think about it."

Bjorn nodded in agreement. However, he still thought it hard to believe that the full consequence of the deal with Pedro was completely overlooked by the bureaucrats. Then, suddenly remembering Ane's insinuation that she had powerful stake holders in her business, people located in Oslo. He asked Frank if he thought that the oversight might have been at least partially deliberate, and that the lawmakers might have been corrupted in some way.

"That's of course always a possibility, especially with the politicians currently in charge," Frank said with a nod. "However, I don't think the oversight was very serious. All they need to do is to give us instructions to act as customs officers, and the problem will be solved."
"So, that's what you think they will do?" Bjorn asked, finding Frank's solution quite reasonable.
"I'm sure of it. However, as long as we have received no such instructions, we are in no position to start doing this yet."

Bjorn thought about the prospect of having his duties expanded. Then it struck him that the introduction of customs duties might affect his colleagues and him too. And if they suddenly had to pay duty on everything they bought in Lundby, their affluence would be gone, and they would be no better off than everyone else in the military. However, when Bjorn expressed this worry, Frank replied with a smile. "Well, I'm sure we will be able to find a way around such a situation. We're all good friends here after all, and no one would go rushing off anywhere to tell on us if we were to make an exception for ourselves."

55

The van disappeared up towards the mountain pass, leaving Bjorn strangely content in its wake. He looked down at the pack of cigarettes in his hand with a content smile. However, it was not so much the cigarettes that had left him feeling happy, as it was the conversation. The little arguing back and forth before coming to the conclusion that everything was indeed in order had given him a sense of importance in an odd kind of way.

Later, when two more cars returned, each with the trunk fully loaded with all sorts of food and drink, Bjorn put on his stern face and commented to each of the drivers that their large imports were legal, but just barely, before letting them go. The insinuation that he was somehow well versed in the subtleties of the law and an expert in its various loop holes gave him a thrill, not least because the drivers seemed to go along with his little power play. They nodded and smiled politely, as they tacitly agreed that they were indeed taking full advantage of what would surely have been illegal if it had not been for some administrative oversight in Oslo, and they thanked him wholeheartedly when he finally pushed the green button to let them pass.

Bjorn was a little surprised by himself for enjoying his position of power as much as he did. With no colleagues around to restrain him, he could probably, if he so wished, pressure some of these people into giving up more than just a pack of cigarettes in order to get away from his uncomfortable scrutiny. But he would not do such a thing, of course. One thing was realizing that he could, if he would. An entirely different thing was actually doing such a thing. However, this did not stop him from fantasizing further around the possibilities he had discovered to be inherent in his position, and he soon found himself busy imagining ways to pressure people into giving up a bottle of whiskey, or a carton of cigarettes.

Bjorn was in the middle of such a fantasy when he caught sight of a green van appearing from behind the low hill half way down towards the fjord. He must have missed the car as it turned onto the road up to the check point. But now that he was made aware of it, it struck him as odd that he would have to stop a car that he had not seen coming into the colony the same morning.

He thought for a moment that the van may have come in earlier, or that it possibly was on a round trip from Kirkenes via Lundby to Neiden. But as it came closer, he could see that it had "Pingo" written in large friendly letters on its hood. And as it turned out, it was indeed a delivery van coming with more food and drink for the check point.

A large blond guy with a heavy Russian European accent rolled down the window on Bjorn's side. "Delivery for Ante," he said casually, as if he had done this many times before.
"Okay," Bjorn replied equally casually. "You know where to find him?"
"In the kitchen, as always, I guess," the man replied.

Bjorn was tempted to open the barrier right away, but hesitated. He did not after all know the man, nor did he know the normal procedures concerning deliveries from Pingo, so he picked up the phone on his desk and pushed the hotline for Ante. "I'll call him," Bjorn explained to the big blond guy who responded with a shrug of his shoulders.

Ante picked up his phone immediately. "Sure! Just let him in," he said. "I'll meet him outside." It was clear from the tone in Ante's voice that there was no need to call him before letting in the delivery man from Pingo, but Bjorn was nevertheless pleased with himself for having made the call. Being new in his job, erring on the side of caution was preferable to making an ugly mistake.

The van disappeared in behind the barracks, and Bjorn felt a sense of eager anticipation just thinking of all the good stuff Ante must have bought in order to max out on the food budget. The food budget, barely enough to keep colleagues at other military installations properly fed, was truly generous at the check point where cheap food, and even wine, were readily available at the local grocery store.

And with this thought in mind it struck Bjorn that he and his colleagues at the check point were little different from the people he had been pestering with his insinuations earlier on. He too was profiting from the low prices in the village. "Why on earth should there be any difference between him and his fellow Norwegians when it came to something as basic as food and drink?" he thought to himself, feeling a sting of guilt for having even contemplated the possibility of pressuring them into giving up some of their goods to him.