It was noon by the time the ferry had finished its docking operations and pulled along side the port of Argentia.
Gregory and Dr. Mashall, along with about 30 other foot passengers, stood in the cavernous hold of the ferry, waiting for the shuttle bus that would come aboard and bring them to the ferry terminal.
"You've been quiet," Dr. Marshall said. "I don't think you've said two words since breakfast."
"I didn't sleep that well," Gregory lied. He had been preoccupied with his encounter with the owner of the mysterious voice earlier that morning. The jade sculpture weighed heavily in one of his pockets, almost making him feel lopsided as he walked.
"I hear that," the Doctor said. "If I ever making this crossing again, I shall be paying for a private berth. Never again will I share a bunk room with 30 snoring truckers."
The shuttle rolled up the ramp and loaded everyone aboard. As the bus disembarked the large ferry, the American Naval base came into view. The US had struck a deal with the Dominion back in '41 when the war was in full swing.
The island of Newfoundland is the most easterly landmass on the North American continent, as such the American's viewed the island as an important strategic port. Various naval and air-bases were built throughout the island as the war dragged on. The Dominion prospered as the small towns and villages that were fortunate enough to be close to these bases saw an influx of jobs and American money.
The large military presence was also a deciding factor in shipping the Tabbys to the island. The former British Colony seemed to be a perfect "neutral" ground for all the major allied powers to keep an eye on the former POWs.
The pair disembarked the ferry terminal and were directed inside to receive their luggage and to go through customs. As they stood in line to meet with a customs officer, Gregory's stomach began to rumble. The only thing that he had eaten that day was 2 slices of lightly buttered toast for breakfast. It was all he had an appetite for after the close encounter with the knife wielder.
The jade statue began to feel heavy again. Before he could stop himself, he placed a hand in his pocket and rubbed his thumb along the edges of the strange statue.
"I could use a smoke myself," Dr. Marshall said looking down to the pocket that contained the statue.
Gregory jerked his hand out of the pocket. "What?" he said, returning to reality.
"A smoke," the Doctor said. "That's the pocket where you keep your tobacco right?"
If you only knew.... the voice from this morning echoed.
"Er... yeah right. I nearly ran out aboard the ferry. Gotta save it along until we can restock."
The Doctor looked at him a moment before laughing. "You've got better discipline than me, I ran out about half-way though the night. I was going to bum one off of you, but I won't steal your last bit."
Finally Gregory reached the front of the line at was ushered in to a small office with a customs officer. The man scanned through the documentation that Gregory presented.
"You're 'ere to 'elp the Tabbys?" the man said. His accent was a little thick and dropped various letters, but quite understandable.
"Yes," Gregory said. He looked at the man to see if this information had put him on edge or not. If the officer had an opinion about the refugees, good or bad, he didn't show it.
"One moment," the man said picking up the phone receiver and dialing a number. "We've 'ben expecting you."
Gregory scanned the room as the officer spoke to whomever was on the other end. The office was decorated with various bits of notices and informational graphics about traveling to the island. Nothing really was of note.
"'Yeah... yeah.... he's standin' in front of me." the officer said into the phone. He looked up at Gregory. "Right, I'll tell him."
The officer set down the phone and stamped Gregory's documentation. "Welcome to the Dominion of Newfoundland," he said. "Your liaison officer will be 'ere to pick you up shortly.... and thank Christ, she's been calling the office every day or the last week askin' if you were 'ere yet."