The ferry terminal was pretty much empty by the time the Dominion Liaison showed up. The ferry had already refilled itself with passengers and cargo and had left the docks for the 12 hour return trip to Nova Scotia. Those who had drove aboard the ferry in their own vehicles had long since left after clearing customs, and the majority of the foot passengers either had a friend or relative pick them up, or had hailed cabs.
Gregory and Dr. Marshall sat at a picnic table that had been placed on a patch of grass just outside the main entrance to the terminal. They made small talk, enjoyed the sunshine, and of course tried some of the tobacco they had just bought from the little gift shop inside. They had retrieved their luggage which now lay stacked beside them like small Samsonite monoliths.
They saw the Jeep approach the gate to the terminal complex, the driver flashing some sort of paperwork to the the person manning one of the small booths that fed traffic into the parking lot. The lot was nearly empty, save for a few large transport containers that stood ready to be hauled aboard the next ferry crossing. Ignoring any signage or markings on the lot, the Jeep cut straight across the paved surface, headed straight toward where Gregory and the doctor were sitting.
Dr. Marshall stood and began to gather his things. "Looks like our ride is here," he said.
Gregory nodded and stood as well. He didn't have quite the same amount of luggage as the Doctor. He hadn't really had much time to settle down much in his life, so he carried most of his worldly possessions in a seabag that he now slung over his shoulder.
The Jeep came to a halt and Gregory saw that it had the green, white, and pink striped flag of the dominion painted on the side. A blond woman in dressed smartly in a white top, long skirt, and blazer stepped out from the Jeep and approached them. Gregory guessed she was in her late 20's or 30's.
"Dr. Marshall and Mr. Roberts I presume?" she asked as she shook each of their hands in turn. "I was beginning to wonder if you were ever going to join us."
"We would have called ahead," Gregory said. "But when the weather finally cleared, it was a bit of a last minute rush to secure a berth on board."
"Well, all that matters is that you are here now," she said. "And I'm finally out of that hotel. It lost its appeal after the first two nights."
She paused for a moment.
"Where are my manners? I'm Lieutenant Olga Budgell of the Newfoundland Ranger force. I'm part of the task-force the Dominion has put in place to help keep the Tabbys safe from outside threats."
The Newfoundlands Rangers, from what Gregory understood, acted as a somewhat combined police and governmental agency. Most of their work was done in small, rural fishing communities, Their purpose was not only to enforce laws, but to provide catchall government services such as issuing pension and welfare funds. For some of the isolate fishing communities, the agents served as their only connection to Dominion governance.
"A pleasure," Dr. Marhsall said. "Will we be going straight to the Enclave? I'm a little anxious to reunite with my brother."
"Unfortunately, it will be a couple of days yet until we get you to the Enclave, Doctor," the Lieutenant said. "We need to first make a trip to St. John's where you will be briefed about a number of things regarding the Enclave and its residence. You can imagine that the international community is very sensitive about any contact with the Tabbys and the outside world."
Dr. Marshall seemed somewhat deflated by the news, but kept silent about the situation.
"We should get your luggage loaded aboard, St. John's is a couple of hours away by car."
***
Gregory wouldn't have exactly called the drive scenic. As the Jeep joined the two-lane road leading away from the ferry terminal, it passed by low growing evergreens with scant clumps of deciduous trees lining the side of the highway. While green, the land was mostly rocky fields with large boulder left over from the ice age. Traffic was fairly heavy in both directions, with American military vehicles and large transport trucks making up the majority,
Lieutenant Budgell provided some details about what lay ahead. The two would be joining a small group of about 30 other people who had been tasked with moving the Tabby Enclave to more self-sustaining long term community. Construction experts and workers, a number of teachers, and administrators made up the majority of the group. The Lieutenant herself would be on site to help keep law and order. Apparently there were cliques forming between the Tabbys and friction between those groups was starting to get more heated.
Dr. Marshall, who rode shotgun, kept the Lieutenant busy with questions about the Enclave, trying to glean information about the general health of its inhabitants and care they have been provided with so far. Gregory mostly keep quiet, once again his mind returning to the encounter that he had earlier that morning on the ferry. In that brief exchange, he had gone to thinking of Dr. Marshall as a trusted acquaintance, to someone who he should be careful around. He had no idea if he could trust the voice, and perhaps the whole thing was set up to cause friction between the two. There were just too many unknowns at this point.
He was brought back to reality when the Lieutenant pulled off the road into the parking lot of a diner. He still hadn't eaten since breakfast and the smell of fried food hit him like a ton of bricks.
"I figure we will grab some supper here," the Lieutenant said. "No real point into rushing the drive."
"Aren't there people waiting to meet us?" Gregory asked.
"By the time we get to town, most of the muckity mucks will have gone home for the day," said the Lieutenant. "The most we will do tonight is get you checked into a hotel and give you a chance to meet some of the other people on the task-force."
The three entered the diner and grabbed a booth with a window that faced the parking lot. Hot coffee and menus were quickly brought to the table by an older server. The diner seemed to be a popular spot with truckers, with several big rigs parked nearby.
The three ordered and the large portions. While not the greatest thing Gregory had ever tasted, it was leagues better than some of the meals he had aboard ship.
The three had finished their meal and Dr. Marshall excused himself for the washroom. The Lieutenant and Gregory sat alone.
"Mr. Roberts, can I ask you a question?" said the Lieutenant.
"Sure thing," Gregory said.
"Why are you here," she asked.
"Well I'm supposed to help with relations between the Tabbys and some of the local communities. A so-called friendly face that can negotiate."
"Bullshit," her demeanor changed. "People like the Doctor I get, someone with expertise. I've read your file... you're just a run of the mill seaman with no real special skills. No diplomatic training as far as I can tell. So I ask again... why are YOU here?"
Gregory sighed, and began to tell his story.