Submarine Debacle

Roo-kai's parrot passport is printed.

His name on the front. Roo-kai Catcher.

His photo. Looking exactly like him.

On the reverse side, a reference to his great great grandfather, Saint Goesnou.

Good, says Gaius. Task completed. Now to make plans to fly home.

Are you allowed to? asks Mathilde. Aren't your borders closed?

I have a return ticket, says Gaius. And a special exemption. But I should make sure it's till valid. 

Yes, says Mathilde, rules do change rapidly, these days.

I'll call Vello, says Gaius. He'll be up with the latest.

Gaius calls Vello.

Vello! It's Gaius! Hello!

Gaius! says Vello. Where are you? Not still in France?

I am, says Gaius. Where are you?

Back in Adelaide, says Vello. Luckily we got home before the submarine debacle.

What submarine debacle? asks Gaius.

Never mind, says Vello. But you might find, as an Australian, you're persona non grata in France.

Surely not, says Gaius. I'm just calling to see if my sporting exemption's still valid.

One can only try, says Vello. My advice is to go to the airport and brazen it out. If that fails, try pleading.

You alarm me, says Gaius. I simply wish to come home.

I'll vouch for you, if necessary, says Vello. 

Thank you, says Gaius. By the way, how long must I quarantine, when I get there?

Are you double jabbed? asks Vello. 

Errr... says Gaius. 

I thought not, says Vello. I suggest you do something about it. Two jabs entitles you to one week quarantining at home.  

Curses, says Gaius. 

See you whenever, says Vello.

Hopefully sooner, says Gaius. 

When are we going? asks Terence.

I must check my ticket, says Gaius. 

He calls it up on his phone.

It's still valid. All he has to do is find a flight from Brest to Adelaide, with available seating.

Let us go down to the cellar and pack, says Gaius. We'll leave for the airport in the morning.

You are optimistic, says Mathilde.

It's my nature, says Gaius. It helps of course, to be a Tour de France rider, and a natural historian, whom almost everyone has heard of.

And to have me, who used to live on a palace, says Terence. And my parrot.

Yes, says Gaius. Most airports are happy to see you fly off.

What about coming? asks Terence.

Not quite so much, says Gaius.

Because they haven't met me, says Terence.