"Aren't you anxious to know what happens when the major gets home to Bjerkely?"
"Naturally, but. . ."
"Come on, then!"
They began to walk down toward the city. Several people passed them on the way, but they all walked right on by as if Sophie and Alberto were invisible.
Cars were parked by the curbside all the way along the street. Alberto stopped by a small red convertible with the top down.
"This will do," he said. "We must just make sure it's ours."
"I have no idea what you mean."
"I'd better explain then. We can't just take an ordinary car that belongs to someone here in the city. What do you think would happen when people noticed the car driving along without a driver? And anyway, we probably wouldn't be able to start it."
"Then why the convertible?"
"I think I recognize it from an old movie."
"Look, I'm sorry, but I'm getting tired of all these cryptic remarks."
"It's a make-believe car, Sophie. It's just like us. People here only see a vacant space. That's all we have to confirm before we're on our way."
They stood by the car and waited. After a while, a boy came cycling along on the sidewalk. He turned suddenly and rode right through the red car and onto the road.
"There, you see? It's ours!"
Alberto opened the door to the passenger seat.
"Be my guest!" he said, and Sophie got in.
He got into the driver's seat. The key was in the ignition, he turned it, and the engine started.
They drove southward out of the city, past Lysaker, Sandvika, Drammen, and down toward Lillesand. As they drove they saw more and more Midsummer bonfires, especially after they had passed Drammen.
"It's Midsummer, Sophie. Isn't it wonderful?"
"And there's such a lovely fresh breeze in an open car. Is it true that no one can see us?"
"Only people of our own kind. We might meet some of them. What's the time now?"
"Half past eight."
"We'll have to take a few shortcuts. We can't stay behind this trailer, that's for sure."
They turned off into a large wheatfield. Sophie looked back and saw that they had left a broad trail of flattened stalks.
"Tomorrow they'll say a freak wind blew over the field," said Alberto.
* * *
Major Albert Knag had just landed at Kastrup Airport outside Copenhagen. It was half past four on Saturday, June 23. It had already been a long day. This penultimate lap had been by plane from Rome.
He went through passport control in his UN uniform, which he was proud to wear. He represented not only himself and his country. Albert Knag represented an international legal system--a century-old tradition that now embraced the entire planet.
He carried only a flight bag. He had checked the rest of his baggage through from Rome. He just needed to hold up his red passport.
"Nothing to declare."
Major Albert Knag had a nearly three-hour wait in the airport before his plane left for Kristiansand. He would have time to buy a few presents for his family. He had sent the present of his life to Hilde two weeks ago. Marit, his wife, had put it on her bedside table for her to discover when she woke up on her birthday. He had not spoken with Hilde since that late night birthday call.
Albert bought a couple of Norwegian newspapers, found himself a table in the bar, and ordered a cup of coffee. He had hardly had time to skim the headlines when he heard an announcement over the loudspeakers: "This is a personal call for Albert Knag. Albert Knag is requested to contact the SAS information desk."
What now?