Most days were busy. There was always something which needed to be done, and my Master was, if there were ranks with the Masters, a leader. After Tempest Hills was completely secure, we spent only one day scouting the town and planning. That was rest.

A day later we flew to Kansas City only to find out that it was being quarantined. After a direct conference with our contact outside the quarantine, we learned that the new drop point was New York. The Big Apple had a seed waiting for us.

When we arrived, we picked up a small package from a mailbox. Then we traveled through the empty streets to a warehouse. The package contained a small key, and that key opened the padlock to the warehouse's truck bay.

Inside we found twenty or so crates, all filled with Masters in their transit cells. New York wasn't secure, but we apparently had a small group of high officials. With their help, fifteen of the crates went onto a ship headed for London, and then to Athens. Soon, we would have international contacts.

I think if I hadn't been occupied by my Master, I would've been quite startled to find that the streets of New York City were like that of a ghost town. The news said something about "building international tensions", but that wasn't my concern. My concern was making sure that things were done right this time.

-

We escorted one crate, marked by an "X", all the way to Los Angeles. We got some sleep on the flight, but it was hardly enough to compensate for my Master-induced insomnia. I was constantly active, and I had hardy ate anything. That made no matter, though. My Master ensured my nourishment.

Around the time we landed in LA, my Master began communicating with me. At first I was surprised and confused (the most change I'd had since I was taken). I didn't even know it was talking to me. But it wasn't talking. The Master had stolen my inner monologue, and I began to feel schizophrenic.

Was I talking to myself?

No.

My Master asked me what my questions were. For a moment, I was too astonished to answer. Then, almost impulsively, I asked what it was. The response confused me, but then it made sense. As it talked to me, I gained access to a plethora of his memories.

The answer he gave me was complex, yet simple. He said I am a Visitor, I come here only to Live.

They, as I once thought to call them, really is a Him. Singular. Each Master is simply the extension of one viable being, one consciousness. Groupthink. I know that he is a male, and that he is the last of his species. Each Master as an individual is a splinter of the original sentient.

He told me of the original Visit. The massive retaliation from the human species, and the eventual loss of the Masters. He knew only because one Master, a special master, survived the war and traveled with the humans to the Titan outpost. There, in the midst of the human's offensive strike, the information was sent over an EDC, an Extended Direct Conference. Radio waves are good for something, apparently.

Using experimental technology, this wave was sent back through time to instigate an invasion without retaliation. So far, we are successful.