C11 Chapter 11

The driver in Per Olav Winger’s car very nearly drove into the ditch on the way south from Dovre.

“I haven’t slept properly for two full days and I refuse to go any farther,” he said defiantly. He might also have added, “And I can’t stand that smell anymore.” But he didn’t dare say it out loud. The two passengers in the back were so frightening they almost made him piss in his pants.

“Sleep?” asked Per Olav Winger. “Who can possibly have time to sleep when there’s so much at stake.”

“Me, for one,” said the driver. “I can barely go on anymore. I can hardly see straight.”

“He’s right,” said Number One, Lynx, in his eerie dead voice. “He should probably be allowed to rest for a few hours.”

“Pathetic little creep of a human being,” Tengel the Evil muttered, so low that they couldn’t hear what he said. “Well, sleep then, but it’ll have to be here. Pull into that little wood over there.”

“But I can’t sleep in the car,” said the driver, thinking of the horrible stench in there.

“Don’t think you’ll be staying in a fancy palace! I’m going for a walk to think things through.”

Thank goodness, that meant the car could be aired while he was gone. Or should he just flee from the whole situation?

Number One’s cautionary grip about his neck stopped him right there.

They were unpleasant characters to work for. The salesman smelled horrible, and the other one was ...

What was he, in fact? The driver couldn’t think of any word other than nasty.

Take for example his grip on the driver’s neck – it had been cold and almost slimy.

No, ugh! He had to escape this assignment as quickly as possible. He would just have to forget about the million, or whatever it was he had been promised. Everything he wished for in the world? That was most likely a million.

The unpleasant Number One remained in the car. So the driver couldn’t relax there, either!

Tengel the Evil walked through the forest, taking long, angry strides, and reached a hill crest where he could look across the landscape. There were a few houses, otherwise fields and clusters of trees.

He was upset, annoyed at having to hide himself in the confounded body of Per Olav Winger. But the endlessly stupid humans couldn’t tolerate seeing him in his true form. They would even retreat from him. He had heard them talking about an intolerable smell.

What losers! A bunch of hysterics! Couldn’t they tolerate a little male odour? He himself had never been bothered by that smell – it was fine!

He couldn’t stand being confined in Per Olav Winger’s tight-fitting shell. He took a deep breath and stepped out as Tengel the Evil once again: little, nasty and sneaky.

It was wonderful to be able to breathe freely again. But he had to neutralize the bunker containing Shira’s clear water. Oh, just thinking about that water made him sick! There was no reason to worry about the cry-baby. And the other one, the one who was supposed to be the great hope of the Ice People, all Tengel could do was snort at him. No reason to waste his precious time on him.

But the two who were on their way north? Tova, and this Marco? Well, they hadn’t taken the clear water with them so what were they planning to do in the Valley of the Ice People? Halkatla was with them; she was sure to keep him, Tengel the Evil, informed if anything alarming were to happen.

But nothing would. His valley was guarded. Not just by his own projection and mental power but also by others. The enemy would get such a surprise it would make them fall over backwards.

And the other two they had along with them? That pathetic guy who seemed to be made of wood – he was nothing. And the other man even less. A dying, ordinary human. He would be more of a hindrance to them than anything else!

Furthermore, Tengel the Evil intended to return to the valley as soon as he had removed the clear water from the earth for good. He would split it into two million drops, which they wouldn’t be able to gather up again.

Tengel the Evil had repressed the thought that he himself wasn’t able to approach the water. But he had Lynx. He could do it instead.

Tengel the Evil began to lose himself in his dreams of what he was going to do once everything was clear.

His thoughts flew far away, searching beyond the earth to find another world he could now take command of.

A lot was happening in this world, he could sense that. Wars had always tempted him, but there weren’t that many of those right now. Just some insignificant ones taking place far away.

Far away? In fact, Tan-ghil had never been able to imagine how big the world was! At first he had thought that he was going to rule over some clans on the endless steppes in Siberia. Then the rest of his people reached Taran-gai, whereupon his world had expanded quite a bit. But he had continued farther and farther westwards – and the world had never ended. He found cities and crowds of people. And on his travels south he came to realize just how endless his power would become. He wondered where the end of the world was. Because it must be somewhere!

Or was there no end to it?

His brain wasn’t able to handle those kinds of thoughts and his usual response was to get furious. So instead he continued observing what was going on in this, his future empire.

There weren’t too many outright wars going on. But what he could sense were a lot of divisions among people. Strong hostilities among world leaders, both in the east and the west, a veritable wall dividing them ...

Excellent! It looked very promising; all he had to do was build on it.

What Tengel the Evil was sensing at this point was the Cold War, which was at its height at precisely that time between the Eastern and Western blocks.

He continued to search, letting his probing thoughts sneak around like hairy tentacles.

A big city (Paris, but Tengel the Evil wasn’t aware of that and didn’t care what it was called). A conference at the highest level. Hopefully they weren’t intending to get friendly with one another? He would be sure to thwart that if they were!

His little reptilian head quickly turned in another direction. Something was happening, but what?

One of those mechanical birds that humans regularly sat inside of had ventured dangerously close to enemy territory. There was only one man inside it and goodness it was going fast! The fastest mechanical bird he had ever seen! They were apparently called “aeroplanes”. He didn’t like them, because he couldn’t understand how simple, ordinary people could create such magic.

It was what would later become famous as the dangerously fatal U-2 spy plane that Tengel had been able to sense from afar.

He could sense the pilot’s thoughts. His doubts and insecurity. Tengel sensed that something was wrong here. You weren’t normally allowed to fly that close to the enemy.

“No, no! Don’t turn back,” he mumbled. “Fly farther into their territory!”

For this could potentially trigger a crisis between the various powers – Tengel’s evil intuition made him certain of that. Here he could help plant the seed that would divide these countries for good.

He rubbed his hands, making the claws grate against one another. Fly, fly, fly on! No, don’t go back now! You can do even better!”

Tengel continued searching ... There! There were soldiers there! They had the same kind of weapons his own men used, which impressed him immensely (though he, of course, would never show that). They had huge pistols, or whatever they were called. Pistols that stood on the ground and were directed up at the sky.

Continue flying, you mighty little enemy-carrying insect! Like that! Yes, like that, fly closer!

Shoot! Now!

Of course, Tengel the Evil couldn’t really judge the distances, but he was able to make the Russian airforce aware of the intruder. And when the time came, the famous missiles were fired, the ones that forced the U-2 plane to the ground.

“Like that, yes,” hissed Tengel the Evil with satisfaction. “Now they’re going to have serious problems at that abominable peaceful meeting of theirs!”

And they did. The U-2 plane became a hot issue for both sides, and the Paris agreement ended in utter hostility.

Something that Tan-ghil had predicted and at which his evil heart rejoiced.

He turned to focus on closer regions. On the country he himself was in. Yes, he actually knew that it was known as Norway. But that didn’t matter. The world was his kingdom, not some little spineless country inhabited solely by losers.

A foreign professor had mentioned that Norwegians who drove cars didn’t respect pedestrians but ran over women and children, as well as disabled individuals.

“Yes, and why not?” said Tengel aggressively. “Why shouldn’t they? Just mow them down! They’re worthless anyway!”

The Norwegians’ traditional friendly and polite ways were starting to disappear, the professor continued. Indifference and violence were becoming everyday phenomena.

“Well of course they are!” snarled Tengel the Evil. “And who do you think is responsible for that? You don’t understand anything, you idiot! Can’t you sense how wonderful life has become? And it’s going to get even better!”

Ha! He was listening to a radio talk show in the ether. Not that he knew where it was coming from. There was talk of the joyful day in May 1945 when the war was over and the Germans left Norway.

Rubbish, thought Tengel the Evil, as he conjured up a suitable conclusion for the talk show, making the poor studio technician who had planned to play a recording of Solveig’s Song from Peer Gynt select one that had been recorded in German. Tengel was more than satisfied with his work and with the panic that was triggered in the studio. A gripping commemoration completely destroyed!

He continued listening.

Parliament was discussing whether female priests should be allowed to apply for vacant priesthoods now that the law allowed it.

A church minister claimed that women weren’t robust enough to join the priesthood.

“Rubbish!” said Tengel the Evil. “Women should be allowed to make fools of themselves on equal terms with men!”

And later ...

A high-ranking police officer complained that there were far too many drunk drivers in Norway. There wasn’t enough room for them in the prisons.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” said Tengel the Evil impatiently. “I do my best to get people to drink fire-water before getting into their cars. But don’t you worry, soon you won’t need any more prisons! Because anybody with appealing criminal tendencies will be subject to my rule – there are already many of them – and I’ll make sure that they aren’t locked up in any jails. And the rest of you dull, law-abiding, so-called good citizens ... you’ll see another kind of law coming your way once I’ve been to the valley. If you have any weakness in your character, I’ll find it and make sure it dominates entirely. If not ... well, what will you have to live for then? Other than to work as my slaves? Otherwise I’ll just sweep you right out of this world, my world!

He made a quick mental leap across the globe, finding some wonderful tensions far away – the Cuba crisis – a never-ending quarrel in the Middle East and a similar one in the Far East. In Africa, chaos reigned, with governments trying to secede but then unable to reach any agreements internally.

He’d have to deal with that later. Conquer the whole place and show who was truly in charge.

In his era evil would reign.

And that era was going to last forever.

He gave a deep sigh of expectation and joy. His long hibernation was over. The world was his – once he had managed to destroy that terrible clear water and consumed some of his own.

No one could imagine how strong he was going to become!

But that damned driver must have finished his rest by now! They had dawdled long enough: it was time to move on!

Reluctantly, he assumed Per Olav Winger’s human form again and went back to the car.

Night was now over and the morning lay grey and cold across the landscape.

It took a while to wake the driver properly so that he could continue. But the cold look that his master gave him energized him. Ugh! What unpleasant people! If he could somehow just get rid of them he would never have to go near them again!

The driver had forgotten how abominable the salesman – Winger, or whatever his name was – smelled. He demonstratively rolled the window down, even though the morning still had a cold rawness to it.

But neither of the passengers seemed to notice the ice-cold draught in the car.

They drove in silence, mile after mile.

But all at once Winger shouted: “What car was that?”

They had just passed a saloon car.

“I have no idea,” said the driver irritably.

It seemed that his horrendous boss was considering stopping but couldn’t make up his mind.

“Where did it come from?”

“Where did it come from? We just passed it! Anyway, it had a Valdres licence plate.”

“Was there anything special about it?” drawled Lynx, always prepared to humour his beloved master.

Tengel the Evil, that is to say Winger, frowned. “Special? I don’t know, I just had a slight sense of unpleasantness.”

His voice faded in puzzlement. Then he asked sharply, “Where is Valdres?”

“Oh, it’s just a valley in this vicinity,” the driver answered. “There’s no one here but farmers.”

It was clear that his opinion of farmers was rather low.

That calmed Tengel the Evil somewhat, but he took a last look over his shoulder in the direction of the car, which had now disappeared.

Damn! He had sensed something as the two cars had passed one another. But he needed to keep a low profile, he couldn’t take any risks now.

And the unpleasantness he had felt was, after all, insignificant. As though the whole thing had been meaningless.

So it was just a matter of driving on.

Some hours later they were approaching the bunker, Lynx and the driver explained to him. Tengel immediately ordered them to stop.

He was never going near that confounded water! Just the thought of it made him nauseous. So he instructed Lynx to blow up the bunker with the biggest dynamite charge he could get his hands on. No, he himself would wait here. No, shut up!

Greatly annoyed by their complaints, and by the fact that he couldn’t explain himself properly – he didn’t want to – he stayed in the car, sulking.

The driver just so happened to have a lot of dynamite with him, so there didn’t seem to be anything standing in the way of producing a blast that would destroy the bunker with one big bang. The bunker was in a very isolated situation, so no one would be around to ask stupid questions before the three had managed to get away. Lynx went ahead and scouted out the territory. He returned and gave a full report.

“There will be no problem unlocking it,” he said. “Does my lord and master wish me to place the explosives in the middle of the bunker?”

“Yes, yes,” said Tengel the Evil crossly. “And don’t touch anything in there! Nothing! And whatever you do, don’t bring anything out! Nothing! The contents of the bunker are dangerous! Fatal! They must be destroyed! Entirely! Hurry, so we can get this over with! Then we’ll have to get out of here! Hurry! Hurry! there’s no time to wait for the explosion or admire the results. Is that understood?”

“Per Olav Winger” was breaking out in a cold sweat. Never before had he been so close to Shira’s clear water, and he was never supposed to get so close. Just a single tiny drop ...

He waited in the car while the others were in the bunker.

The minutes passed.

How long were they going to take? What were they doing? He repressed his urge to go over and rage at them. Drumming his fingers, he sat there waiting, panting hard as if he had been running.

He should never have come here in person. But if he hadn’t risked it, the job wouldn’t have been done properly. And he couldn’t walk around in ignorance, not knowing whether they had got rid of the clear water or not. It was dangerous. He had to be careful with everything.

And now they were running back. Finally! Tengel flung open the car door, shouting: “Now let’s go!”

And then he slammed the door shut in case the detonation caused as much as a single drop of water to reach the car.

“You slow ...” he began when they reached the car and threw themselves inside. “Drive! Drive!”

The car started and swung out onto the road.

“Did all go to plan?”

“Yes, yes, it’ll go off any second now,” said Lynx.

Per Olav Winger grew pale. “Drive!”

“My foot is on the accelerator!” the driver grumbled angrily.

The car flew forward, tyres screeching as it made a couple of sharp turns.

And then – when they were at a safe distance – there was an explosion that sounded as though half the earth had opened up.

Tengel the Evil automatically doubled up as though he had expected to hear the residue landing on the roof of the car.

“It won’t reach here,” said Lynx calmly and Winger straightened up, once again dignified.

“You placed it in the middle, didn’t you?”

“Yes, but there was nothing there.”

“What do you mean?”

“Just what I said. There was nothing but a broken chair and a roll of barbed wire.”

Tengel the Evil was filled with a cold numbness. “No bottle or any other form of container, big or small?”

“Nothing at all. Absolutely nothing. The walls and ceiling were completely bare. Nothing could have been concealed or buried, I swear to you!”

A sound came from Per Olav Winger that made the driver look at him in the rear-view mirror. It was a hollow sound that grew in volume, as from a terrible, uninhibited anger.

The sound grew to a roar. “Halkatla! Halkatla! That confounded witch, she has ... she has ...”

He wasn’t in any condition to get the words out. Her betrayal was too enormous, too unexpected and too shocking.

But the driver couldn’t take his gaze off the rear-view mirror and he felt a panicky fear within him that prevented him from seeing clearly. For what he saw were Per Olav Winger’s face and eyes. And those eyes transformed into horrible, grey-yellow slits, like those of ancient reptiles. And his face? It was no longer that of the salesman Per Olav Winger. A thick grey tongue stuck out from his horrendous-looking gape, and a stinking grey-green cloud billowed out. His features were transformed ...

The driver didn’t get a chance to see anymore before he started screaming, wild with fear, and the car skidded off the road and over the edge, falling and falling down into the River Mjøsa.

Lynx had seen it too. But his features retained their impenetrable, cold expression. Just a tiny flare of his nostrils indicated his somewhat surprised reaction.

They easily managed to get back to land, Lynx and Tengel, who was now Per Olav Winger again, but the driver went down into the abyss with the car. The Mjøsa was deep just at that spot. And no one had witnessed the accident.

They stood on the stony shore.

“I don’t need a car anyway,” said Tengel the Evil doggedly. “I’m dead tired of human weaknesses. You can get to the Valley of the Ice People whichever way you wish. I myself intend to go there alone.”

It would be slow travel. But he’d escape having to rely on others, and that was the most important thing.

And Halkatla? Her time was now up, he’d make sure of that. The Great Abyss. That was going to be her punishment, nothing less would do. And the others? They must have the clear water with them. A head start.

Lynx, that mysterious man, watched as his lord and master glided across the ground, as though he was a little above it, not touching it.

Lynx looked at him indifferently, then he started walking along the road. He’d be sure to get there right on time – perhaps even before his master.