90

Bjorn felt a god deal better just stepping out into the cold night air, and his curiosity about the market and how it had changed over the last few days soon made him forget all about his sudden spell of dizziness. He looked briefly around for Frank, but it was clear that he was not among the people strolling among the stalls.

The market was busy but not crowded, and most of the people out among the stalls were people catching a bit of fresh air or having a smoke before returning to the casino. A man having had too much to drink was sitting on a bench a bit away from the stalls, in the continuation of the diagonal going in the direction of the fish processing plant. He was sitting, hunched forward, with a friend at his side. But apart from him, there was little sign of people having had too much to drink.

Bjorn noticed that all the new stalls were placed along the diagonal in the direction of the casino, and that a new lane was about to be established parallel to the street in front of the casino. It was almost as if the casino itself was pulling the stalls in its direction, but it was of course only natural that the market would grow in that direction, with so many tourists and potential customers coming from that side of the square.

The new stalls were mainly selling touristy stuff, like little rag dolls, T-shirts and other gift items. A busker was sitting on a camping chair, playing his guitar, and a woman had put up a small table with two chairs under a paraffin lamp where she sat cutting miniature portraits of people. She was very skilled with her scissors, quickly cutting out impressively accurate profiles in black paper which she in turn glued onto pre-cut white backgrounds before handing them over to her customers.

Bjorn was for a while completely mesmerised by the woman's lightning fast handiwork, and was tempted to have his own portrait cut. But he decided against it after realizing he had no intention of hanging up a portrait of himself anywhere in his room. The portrait would simply disappear into a drawer somewhere and never again see the light of day.

Bjorn pulled a tiny casino chip out of his pocket and tossed it into the hat in front of the busker. Then he went over to a stall selling rag dolls, fluffy animals and T-shirts. There was a bunch of fluffy polar bears on one side of the stall, all wearing little T-shirts with "I Love the Arctic" embroidered on them, and next to this pile were some fliers protesting Pedro's claim to the village square.

"May I take one?" Bjorn asked the stall keeper, pointing to the fliers.
"Sure! And feel free to sign our petition too," he answered.

Bjorn looked at the petition, next to the fliers, and feeling generous and sympathetic towards the stall owners he signed his name on the list. Then he looked briefly through the T-shirts, most of which had the usual popular culture themes, but some having "I Love Lundby" on them too. And to Bjorn's surprise he also found a couple in military green with the single word "5th" printed on the front, and "citizen" printed on the back.

"5th avenue?" Bjorn asked, deliberately pretending to be clueless.
"No... 5th Empire," the stall owner corrected with a chuckle. "We can have your name printed on the back under the word citizen if you please."
"Really? You have a machine to do that here?" Bjorn asked, seeing no such machine in the stall.
"No, but I have a deal with the dry cleaners over there," the stall owner explained, pointing to the dry cleaner to the south of the square.

Bjorn looked over at the shop with its brightly lit store front before asking the stall owner what the Fifth Empire thing was all about.

"Oh... I thought you knew... It is the kingdom of God," the stall owner explained with no hint of irony.
"Is that so?" Bjorn answered sceptically. "And a citizen is a believer? Is that how it goes?"
"Yeah, that's about right."

Bjorn smiled. It was a neat idea if nothing else. But not being religiously inclined, and certainly not interested in associating himself with a cult, he explained that the T-shirt was not for him. The stall owner smiled and nodded. "You'll come to see it differently one day," he said. "I'm sure of it."

89

Bjorn looked again over at the table where they were selling drugs. From where he was sitting it all looked quite innocent, and to risk his life in order to stop it seemed right out absurd. However, it would not surprise him if an order to arrest David and Jan, and the two peddlers too, would come from Oslo one day, and was he then really going to risk his life in order to act on such an order? He doubted it. And thinking about it some more, Bjorn thought it an impossible idea. If Oslo ever was to issue an arrest order on those guys, they would have to send a proper SWAT team to do the job. Bjorn and his colleagues were border guards, neither motivated nor trained to deal with dope dealing gangsters.

Bjorn decided to go over to the men's room, both due to a sudden urge to go there, and out of curiosity for the drug dealing. But even as he passed the drug dealers' table, he got no sense that anything very sinister was going on. And on returning to his colleagues' table, he completely forgot about the drug dealers, suddenly being preoccupied by the whereabouts of Frank instead. He hadn't seen Frank in a while, and it struck him as odd that his boss should have completely disappeared, just like that.

"Where is Frank?" Bjorn asked as he sat down with his colleagues again.
"I don't know," Ante answered. "I last saw him in the room with the roulette table. Why don't you go and check, if you're curious?"

Bjorn did not feel like getting up right away, so he remained seated, listening in on his colleagues making plans for next Friday instead, which was what the conversation had moved onto while Bjorn had been away. Both Espen and Thomas were insisting on including bowling as a part of their program, recounting a favourable review by Ola and Per who had started their evening at the newly opened alley.

"We can go bowling before dinner, just like Ola and Per did," Espen suggested. "But where should we go for dinner?"
"I don't know," Ante commented thoughtfully. "There's only Nora's place and Peppe's Pizza. I don't think there's any other place to go... Unless they serve food at the bowling alley. Maybe we could eat there?"
"We could go to Nora's place again," Thomas suggested. "I wouldn't mind a repeat of what we had today."

And from here the discussion went on without much direction or purpose. And Bjorn quickly became restless, and even tired where he was sitting. He felt like going back to the barracks, and he realized once again that he was a good deal older than his colleagues. They were not likely to return to the checkpoint in a long while yet, and yet Bjorn was already starting to long for bed.

Still feeling a little dizzy and nauseous, Bjorn did not feel like drinking more, and with the conversation around the table not interesting him much either, Bjorn excused himself once again, this time to go and look for Frank. And thinking he might as well get some fresh air while he was up, he found his jacket in the pile under Thomas' balloon, and put it on before leaving his colleagues.

However, Frank was nowhere to be found. He was neither in the roulette room nor outside with the smokers. And looking over at the market, still open and busy over in the village square, Bjorn could not see any sign of Frank there either. But the market looked so attractive with its multitude of paraffin lamps and busy stalls that he crossed the road and entered it anyway.

88

Ante sat down with his colleagues, drink in hand, and with a big smile on his face.

"I love this place!" he said, looking out on the people at the dance floor. "Have you seen the drug peddlers over there?"
"Drug peddlers? Where?" Bjorn asked, surprised to hear Ante talk so light heartedly about such a sordid business.
"There!" Ante answered, pointing to a table by the entrance to the bathrooms. "You can get whatever you feel like over there."
"Really?"
"Yep! Cocaine, heroine, cannabis... You name it, they got it."
"And no one is stopping them?" Bjorn wondered out loud.

Ante looked over at Thomas, with a grin as if to say, "you go ahead and explain this to Bjorn for me!"

"Well, who's to stop them?" Thomas asked rhetorically.
"Well... eh..." Bjorn stuttered, unable to find an answer.
"Jan could stop them," Espen ventured. "It's his place after all."
"Sure!" Ante agreed. "But I asked them about that, and you know what they told me?"
"No?"
"The table over there has been rented by a guy called David. Jan is in on this. He is making money renting out that table to David."

The men looked with silent wonder at the table where the illicit trade was going on. It was wide open and at the same time so toned down that it had gone unnoticed by Bjorn until now.

"And who is David?" Bjorn asked, curious to know who of the two peddlers was in charge.
"David isn't here," Ante explained. "He is up at his pharmacy, down the road from the church."
"So those guys over there are just working for him?" Bjorn asked.
"Apparently."

Bjorn was speechless.

"It is this kind of thing that's going to be the end of Lundby," Thomas said with a concerned look on his face.
"Everyone will end up hooked on drugs, you mean?" Espen asked.
"No... Of course not... But how long do you think this will last before we will be asked to shut this whole place down?"
"Not very long," Espen conceded.
"And it will be up to us to do the dirty work of closing this down, you know," Thomas continued.
"And you don't think we should?" Bjorn asked.

Thomas looked at Bjorn as if he had said something really stupid. "Why?" he asked.
"Well, it's against the law."
"So?"
"So, it should be shut down. That's what laws are for. To make sure that things like this is not going on in the open."
"Really?" Thomas asked rhetorically. "Is that really what laws are for?"
"Yeah?" Bjorn answered hesitantly.

Bjorn looked over at the table where the two men were helping their customers in a polite manner, as if they were selling something completely innocent, like doughnuts or sweets. There was nothing remotely aggressive or overly assertive about their behaviour, and Bjorn did not feel the least bit threatened by their presence in the room. But it was a silly gamble to let this go on in the open, and Thomas was no doubt right in his prediction that this would indeed be the end of the Lundby project in its present form.

"Kind of stupid of Pedro to let this go on in the open, isn't it?" Bjorn asked.
"He's probably powerless to stop this," Thomas countered.
"Really? I thought he was in charge of law and order down here."
"Sure! But how should he go about shutting this business down? You think he can just go into this casino and demand that things change? Have you seen the bouncers out there?"
"I guess you got a point," Bjorn conceded.

"And guess what?" Thomas continued after a short pause. "It will be our job to go in here and demand the sort of changes that our bosses in Oslo will want to see... How do you like the idea of going in here and try to boss Jan around?"

Bjorn looked over at Ante who was following the discussion with relaxed curiosity. Ante shook his head with a negative grin. "Nope... I'm not going to do it," he said. "I don't feel like ending up at the bottom of the fjord with a hundred kilo of concrete around my ankles."

87

Bjorn leant back in his chair, sipping his beer in silence. He felt a fuming frustration with Thomas and his definition of slavery, but also a sneaking suspicion that the real source of his frustration was Ola and Ane, and that the thing that was really upsetting him was a jealousy of their youth and success.

Bjorn was not the oldest one in the casino, but he was clearly a good deal older than most. And what did he have to show for it? Nothing. For a few weeks he had lived under the illusion that he too was rich, when in fact he had signed the papers that would bankrupt him. And the fall had been horrendous, brutal and unyielding, with the tax man showing no mercy as he rejected every single one of Bjorn's arguments. The inheritance tax could not be recalculated. It was set in stone as it were, and would never be forgiven.

Ola's great sin was simply to be the man that Bjorn would liked to have been. His success reminded Bjorn of his own failure, and it was this more than anything that made him feel so edgy and hostile towards both Ola and Ane. But this was neither the place nor time to dwell on the past. Bjorn was on a journey of his own, he thought, even if he was just an observer. Lundby was an exciting place, and the casino was full of life and energy. He was an explorer of sorts, and his success would be a private one, not measured in wealth, but in experiences.

Sipping his beer, Bjorn convinced himself that he would be successful in his own way, and that his life was as exciting as anyone's. And pretty soon he felt almost relieved to know that Ane was living her own life, quite separate from his, for he had better things to do than to be together with a woman obsessed with fish and profits. Bjorn was free. And his very lack of material wealth was the source of this freedom.

Looking out on the dance floor, with people dancing and moving about, some hoping for love, and others looking to make some money, Bjorn felt relieved to know that he was above this. He was beyond this hustling and sentimental nonsense. Bjorn was the observer, separate from the daily struggles, hopes and fears of the people around him.

Bjorn took another sip of his beer, enjoying the sense of calm that was starting to fill his every fibre. Then Espen made a comment out of the blue.

"They were both from Fredrikstad," Espen said, as if announcing something deep and significant.
"Who," Bjorn asked.
"Ola and Per."
"Yeah? And?"
"Well, they said they were from Longyear... But no one grows up in Longyear. It's not a place where people raise families."
"True... The place is so far north it's a wonder anyone lives there at all."
"Yeah! Compared to Longyear, Lundby is almost a tropical paradise." Thomas added. "But what makes you so sure they are from Fredrikstad?"
"Their dialect... I got family in Fredrikstad, and they talked just like them... Toned down a bit, but still..."
"So you think they were lying about Longyear?" Thomas asked, confused by Espen's story.
"No, no... I'm just saying that they must have grown up in Fredrikstad. I'm sure they've been working the mines up at Svalbard. But that's not where they are from originally."
"Okay?" Thomas answered without any sign of interest in what Espen was talking about.

Bjorn didn't find Espen's comment very interesting either and slipped back into his meditative mood rather than making any effort to keep the conversation going. Bjorn looked over at the table where he had last seen Frank and Ante, thinking that it would be nice to have Ante back at their table, but the table was empty. He looked around, but could see neither Frank nor Ante anywhere in the room. However, Bjorn didn't feel like making a point of their disappearance, preferring to sit quietly and enjoy his meditative state instead.

"It's nice how they keep the music down enough for us to be able to talk without shouting on top of our voices," Espen commented idly, apparently trying to start another conversation.
"It's the way they positioned the loudspeakers," Thomas explained. "See how they hang right above the dance floor. That way it is loud where it matters, and more mellow out here."
"So that is how they do it," Espen answered in apparent wonder.
"Yeah, there are no loudspeakers out here, as you can see."

Bjorn looked up to verify Thomas' claim, but felt immediately dizzy.

"Oh my! I'm more drunk than I thought," Bjorn said, turning his gaze quickly to the floor to fight a sudden spell of nausea.
"You're all right?" Espen asked.
"Sure... I just have to stop drinking."
"Need some help getting out in the fresh air?" Thomas asked.
"No, no... I'm fine. I'm not sure why I feel this way... I haven't drunk all that much."

Bjorn quickly regained his balance. "What was that all about?" Bjorn thought to himself with an uneasy feeling that his sudden spell of dizziness was more than just alcohol related. But Thomas broke Bjorn's line of thoughts with a question before he had time to even start speculating on an alternative cause.

"Where is Ante?" Thomas asked. "He's not getting drunk again, is he?"
"I don't know," Bjorn answered, feeling less dizzy by the second. "I haven't seen him in a while."

The three men looked around, unable to find any trace of Ante. And Frank was also nowhere to be seen. But just as Thomas were about to get up to go looking for the two men, Ante appeared from the back of the room, all smiles and with a glass in his hand.

"Is that a cocktail, you got there?" Thomas asked as Ante presented himself at the table.
"No, it's a long drink," Ante answered with a broad smile. "A Rum Fizz to be exact."
"But you are our designated driver!" Thomas said with quiet despair.
"Sure... But I'm not drunk... I'm fine... I'll get you all back safe and sound to the checkpoint when the time comes."

86

Ola leant back in his chair, looking around as if to take in the place one last time before leaving.

"Well, I think we'll leave now," he said to Per. "We can have a few last beers over at my place if you're still thirsty." Then, leaning over towards Bjorn and his two colleagues, he excused himself, putting his hands on his knees, ready to rise and leave.
"So you're staying at Ola and Ane's place tonight," Bjorn asked, looking at Per.
"Yes he is," Ola answered. "The ferry back to Kirkenes does not run at these hours."
"No?"
"No! But we got a housekeeper, so there's no extra work for Ane or me to have people staying over," Ola added proudly.
"A house keeper! That sounds fancy," Bjorn commented acidly.
"Ganga... a Tamil girl," Ola explained, taking no notice of Bjorn's acid remark. "That's one of the great advantages of buying a place in Lundby. You can get a housekeeper for as little as fifty MG a day."
"But that is even less than your wife pays her factory workers."
"Sure, but Ganga gets a room and food for free, so she is in many ways better off than the factory workers."

Bjorn looked blankly at Ola for a second. "So those barracks over by the factory are not free for Ane's workers?"
"No, she rents them out for a hundred MG per night."
"But that's what the workers make in a day!" Bjorn protested, shocked by Ola's revelation.
"Sure, but the workers typically rent the rooms together with three or more other workers. That way they have plenty for food and other necessities."

Bjorn was speechless. Ane's shameless exploitation of her workers was much worse than he had thought. And Ola did not seem the least bit ashamed of it either. "What a loveless cold couple they must be," he thought to himself. But he had the wits to keep this thought to himself, and did not say anything to stop Ola and Per from raising up from their chairs.

"Take care, and enjoy the rest of your evening," Ola said with a friendly smile. Per said goodbye too and the two men left, leaving Bjorn, Thomas and  Espen to themselves.

"I think Ola is right," Thomas said, breaking the silence around the table.
"About what?" Bjorn asked, still shocked by Ola's revelation.
"About the house... Per should buy it now while prices are down... The influx of asylum seekers isn't going to be nearly as bad as people think."
"I agree!" Espen said with a nod. "I don't think Ola was very pleased about the way you put it though."
"Yeah," Bjorn said with a smile. "Mentioning Frank's fence was hardly a winning argument."

The three men smiled and shook their heads over Thomas' silly remark that had set Ola´s arguments back by quite a bit, and possibly stopped Per from ever considering buying a house in Lundby.

"It's a good thing you're not working as a diplomat," Espen commented, still chuckling.
"But you know what I found to be the winning argument?" Thomas asked rhetorically to change the subject.
"No? What?" Espen asked.
"The housekeeper."
"Really?" Bjorn asked in disbelief.
"Sure! Imagine having someone to sort out your house while you're off doing other things. I'd love to have that."
"But it's slavery!" Bjorn protested.
"No, it's not. This Ganga, or whatever, is making just as good a living as any of the factory workers."
"But they are slaves too?"
"No... They can all choose to do other stuff if they please. You're only a slave if you have no say in choosing your employer, or if you have to give away your earnings to a third party without your consent."

Bjorn did not agree, but could not find any quick counter-definition for slavery, so he found himself again lost for words.

"But you agree that the wages are terrible?" Espen commented, apparently agreeing with Bjorn, at least to some extent.
"Sure," Thomas agreed. "But as long as people are not forced to part with their earnings against their will, and have freedom to work for whoever they please, it is totally wrong to call this slavery."

Then, after taking a sip of his beer, Thomas continued.

"There is simply an oversupply of unskilled labour, and that forces the price down."
"And at what point does low wages become so low that it becomes slavery?" Bjorn asked.
"Never," Thomas answered confidently.
"Never?"
"Exactly. Slavery has to do with wage extraction and force. It has nothing to do with the amount a person earns. If Ganga is forced against her will to do a bunch of stuff she does not voluntarily agree to, she is a slave, but we have no evidence of anything like that going on in the Ola & Ane household."
"But she has no choice!" Bjorn protested. "She has no choice but to accept her lot."
"Not true," Thomas countered, still cocksure of himself. "She can work in the factory, she can open a stall at the market, she can start a business herself. She sure as hell does not have to work for Ola and Ane unless they are indeed locking her up and forcing her to do stuff. And only then would I consider her a slave. As long as I have no reason to believe that Ola or Ane are forcing Ganga to be their housekeeper, I see no reason to assume that she's a slave."

Bjorn was again unable to find a good argument to counter Thomas' assertion, but he had a distinct feeling that Thomas' definition was lacking, and he felt frustrated with Thomas insisting that the word slavery did not apply to the misery and hardship doubtlessly experienced by Ane's housekeeper and factory workers.

"But you have to admit that it would be great to have a housekeeper?" Espen asked Bjorn, evidently trying to make Bjorn see things from Thomas' perspective.
"Sure," Bjorn had to admit. "Who wouldn't like to be rich and successful? But if it had to be on other people's expense, I think I'd rather not."
"But it is not on other people's expense," Thomas insisted. "If Ane didn't employ all these people, they might be without work entirely, or working under even worse conditions. Remember, everyone working for Ane is working for Ane because they did not find a better deal with somebody else. They would in other words be worse off without her."
"Unless they are indeed slaves," Espen corrected.
"Sure... But there's no evidence of that."

85

Bjorn was suddenly speechless, and if it hadn't been for the waitress appearing with four beers, he would probably not have been able to hide his disappointment. But with the other men suddenly all busy paying for their beers, Bjorn could let the initial shock sink in in silence.

It was ridiculous to be disappointed, of course, and this in itself was half the embarrassment for Bjorn. It was not like he knew Ane, and she was in many ways way out of his league, successful, young and beautiful as she was. But he had come to think of her as an heroic lone ranger of sorts, and himself as her trusted ally. And now, that illusion was broken.

Bjorn lifted his glass to his lips, and swallowed a mouth full of beer, not for the thirst, but as a way to hide his embarrassing emotions. He looked at Ola, as he paid the waitress, and he was again struck by the sheer physical size of the man. Had he been just a little bit bigger, he could properly be classified as a giant. And to think that this enormous guy was involved with tiny Ane was almost obscene in its erotic implications.

But Ola had asked Bjorn a question, and it deserved an answer. It also gave Bjorn an opportunity to catch his balance again, and rid himself of his silly immature disappointment.

"I inspected Ane's factory on Wednesday, together with a colleague," Bjorn explained.
"Ah! So you are one of the millimetre guys," Ola said with a friendly smile.
"Is that what she called us?"
"Yep!" Ola answered, still smiling. "Are you the nasty obsessed one, or the nice clueless one?"

Bjorn could not help smiling despite the insult. "Who do you think?" he asked.
"I guess you're the nice clueless one."
"I guess you're right," Bjorn answered. "But was it really that obvious?"
"I'm afraid it was, despite your best efforts."
"Well... Maybe we shouldn't talk more about this," Bjorn continued, looking over at Thomas and Espen who were following the conversation with amusement.

"So you are all from the checkpoint?" Per asked, helpfully changing the subject for Bjorn.
"Yeah," Thomas answered.
"That makes sense."
"How?"
"Well... Five guys, obviously not all from up here, and not working at the mine either... Where else could you be working."
"True..."

Thomas took a sip of his beer, leaning back in his chair to look at the people out on the dance floor.

"But you're not from around here either, are you?" Espen asked.
"No... We moved down from Svalbard when they opened the iron mine down here," Ola said helpfully.
"You worked in the coal mines up there?" Espen asked full of wonder. "I've heard it's a crazy place."
"It is... But not as wild as Lundby."
"You think this place is weirder?" Espen asked. "But at least we don't have polar bears wandering the streets in Lundby."
"Sure... But they aren't sending thousands of people to the Longyear village, are they."
"But if it wasn't for that, then Longyear would be weirder than Lundby."

Ola took a sip of his beer. Then, after swallowing the brew with a thoughtful look on his face, he continued. "Lundby is like Longyear on steroids, minus the polar bears."
"What do you mean?" Thomas asked.
"Longyear is a tiny project in comparison to this. And it is more isolated," Ola explained. "This has the potential to become something really big."

Then, turning to Per, Ola continued. "You know, if you don't buy that house, I think I will... I'll see if I can find the money to buy it, and I'll sell it in a few years and make a ton of money."

84

Returning to the main hall where the music was playing and a few couples were moving around on the dance floor, Bjorn caught sight of Frank and Ante over at a table with two girls. They were obviously flirting and having fun, and Bjorn thought it better to let them have their fun without him interfering, so he turned to the table where he had left his jacket.

Thomas' balloon marked the spot, and both Espen and Thomas were still sitting there, guarding the pile of jackets on the ledge behind them. But they were not alone. The two big Norwegians he had seen at Nora's place were also with them, engaging them in conversation.

Bjorn immediately felt curious to hear what the athletic looking men had to say, and seeing that the chair he had been sitting in before leaving for a smoke was still free, he sat down with a friendly nod to the four men, making a point of not interfering in their conversation.

Bjorn leant back in his chair, looking for the black girl who had served them earlier while listening in on what the men were saying. He soon caught sight of the waitress and signalled that he wanted another beer by making a hand movement as if pulling draught himself. Then, leaning a little forward, he started to pay closer attention to what the four were talking about.

Apparently, the biggest and blondest of the two men was trying to convince his friend to buy a house in Lundby, claiming that there was no better time to buy a house than now while everyone was fearful of the imminent immigration of asylum seekers.

"You see, Per!" the big one said. "Things never get as bad as people think. And this big influx is going to prove me right again. First of all, very few people will choose to go up here. And those who do will be willing to work for peanuts. They are not going to cause any problems at all. And you can have a servant in your house... Heck... You can have two or three if you please."
"Yeah," Thomas agreed. "I'm pretty sure you're right. All this fear is completely misplaced... You know... We're having a fence put up around our barracks up at the checkpoint. It's a complete waste of time and money if you ask me."
"You are?" Per asked. "Isn't that an indication that things are in fact going to turn sour pretty soon. I don't think the military is putting up a fence just for the heck of it, budgets being as tight as they are these days."

The big blond guy looked at Thomas with a spark of frustration in his eye, clearly not finding Thomas' remark very helpful.

"But you have to admit, Lundby is not at all the place it has been made out to be," the big guy continued. "The only ones selling their houses at the current prices are people who have bought the crap they are telling us through the media. This place is thriving, and I can assure you that it will be just as peaceful and thriving in the future too. This is a once in a lifetime opportunity."

The waitress came with Bjorn's beer, and this caused the conversation to stop while Bjorn fished out a token to pay for his brew. Then, once the waitress left, Bjorn felt like breaking into the conversation.

"So, why are you so eager to push this house on Per?" Bjorn asked. "Sorry to interfere, but I'm curious."
The big guy sighed, as if Bjorn was asking a question for the thousandth time. "It's not me pushing this house," he said in his defence. "Per here has been moaning about how expensive everything is in Kirkenes, and how he wants a proper place to live, and I've been telling him that he should buy a place in Lundby. And now that there is a house for sale, I thought it an idea to bring him along for a tour just to see what a great place this is."
"You guys are colleagues?" Bjorn asked, trying to pin down their relationship to each other.
"Yeah," Per answered. "Ola is my boss. We are engineers... Miners if you like... Over at the iron mine by the port."
"And you've never been to Lundby," Bjorn asked. "I mean... The village."
"No."
"Yeah, isn't that crazy?" Ola blurted out, not able to hold back his frustration with his colleague. "I mean... There we are, going every day to the mines, and Per never once goes to the village to check it out... Not once!"

There was a pause as this insult sank in. Bjorn felt almost embarrassed about it, and took a big sip of his beer to hide his feeling of awkwardness. But Espen quickly filled the vacuum with a quick question.

"But now that you've seen it, you like it? Don't you?" he asked.
"Sure, it's a great place."
"So your only concern is that things may get messy when the asylum seekers come flying in?" Thomas asked.
"Yeah... I mean... You saw the news on TV, right?"
"We did," Thomas confirmed.

There was another pause in the conversation, and Ola leant back, looking for the waitress while asking the men if they too felt thirsty. Espen and Thomas looked at their nearly empty glasses, answering that they too could do with another beer. Per agreed, and Ola signalled with four fingers in the air to the waitress that they were ready for more beer.

"So your concern is purely related to security?" Bjorn asked, continuing the conversation.
"Yeah," Per answered with a nod.
"Have you considered buying insurance... There's this company called Lance..."
"Exactly!" Ola exclaimed, breaking Bjorn off in mid sentence. "That's what I have been telling him all along. My wife and I have bought insurance from Pedro. And it does not cost very much at all."
"You live here?" Bjorn asked redundantly.
"Sure!"
"And you trust Pedro?"
"He's a friend of Jan, and Jan trusts him. That's saying quite a bit."
"You know Jan too?"
"Well, we've only talked to Pedro briefly, so we don't really know Pedro. But my wife and Jan have known each other since for ever."
"Really?"
"Yeah... Jan is a childhood friend of my wife's father, and Jan's father was the one who stopped the guys in Oslo from completely gutting the factory."
"The factory?" Bjorn asked, a little lost.
"The fish processing plant," Ola explained helpfully. "My wife reopened it just this Wednesday."
"You're married to Ane?" Bjorn asked in disbelief.
"Yeah... Do you know her?"