This latest exercise in omniscience had lasted twelve days. Wearing the cloaks all the time was impossible. Every day in a rotation, one of his members threw off its radio, was bathed, and had its cloak's liner changed. It was Flenser's hour of daily madness, when sometimes the weak-willed Tyrathect would come back to mind, vainly trying to reestablish her dominance. It didn't matter. With one of his members disconnected, the remaining pack was only four. There are foursomes of normal intelligence, but none existed in Flenser/Tyrathect. The bathing and recloaking were all done in a confused haze.
And of course, even though Flenser was "everywhere at once", he wasn't any smarter than before. After the first jarring experiments, he got the hang of seeing/hearing scenes that were radically different — but it was as difficult as ever to carry on multiple conversations. When he was bantering with Steel, his other members had very little to say to Amdijefri or to Rangolith's scouts.
Lord Steel was done with him. Flenser walked along the parapets with his former student, but if Steel had said anything to him it would have taken him away from his current conversation. Flenser smiled (carefully so the one with Steel would not show it). Steel thought he was talking to Farscout Rangolith just now. Oh, he would do that… in a few minutes. One advantage of his situation was that no one could know for sure everything Flenser was up to. If he was careful, he would eventually rule here again. It was a dangerous game, and the cloaks were themselves dangerous devices. Keep a cloak out of sunlight for a few hours and it lost power, and the member wearing it was cut off from the pack. Worse was the problem of static — that was a mantis word. The second set of cloaks had killed its user, and the Spacers weren't sure of the cause, except that it was some sort of "interference" problem.
Flenser had experienced nothing so extreme. But sometimes on his farthest hikes with Rangolith, or when a cloak's power faded… there was an incredible shrieking in his mind, like a dozen packs crowding close, sounds that scaled between sex madness and killing frenzy. Tyrathect seemed to like times like that; she'd come bounding out of the confusion, swamping him with her soft hate. Normally she lurked around the edges of his consciousness, tweaking a word here, a motive there. After the static, she was much worse; on one occasion she'd held control for almost a dayaround. Given a year without crises, Flenser could have studied Ty and Ra and Thect and done a proper excision. Thect, the member with the white-tipped ears, was probably the one to kill: it wasn't bright, but it was likely the capstone of the trio. With a precisely crafted replacement, Flenser might be even greater than before the massacre at Parliament Bowl. But for now, Flenser was stuck; soul surgery on one's self was an awesome challenge -even to The Master.
So. Careful. Careful. Keep the cloaks well charged, take no long trips, and don't let any one person see all the threads of your plan. While Steel thought he was seeking Rangolith, Flenser was talking to Amdi and Jefri.
The human's face was wet with tears. "F-four times we've missed R-ravna. What has happened to her?" His voice screeched up. Flenser hadn't realized there was such flexibility in the belching mechanism that humans use to make sound.
Most of Amdi clustered round the boy. He licked Jefri's cheeks. "It could be our ultrawave. Maybe it's broken." He looked beseechingly at Flenser. There were tears in the puppies' eyes, too. "Tyrathect, please ask Steel again. Let us stay in the ship all the dayaround. Maybe there are messages that have come through and not been recorded."
Flenser with Steel descended the northern stairs, crossed the parade ground. He gave a sliver of attention to the other's complaints about the sloppy maintenance around the practice stands. At least Steel was smart enough to keep the discipline scaffolds over on Hidden Island.
Flenser with Rangolith's troopers splashed through a mountain stream. Even in high summer, in the middle of a Drywind, there were still snow patches, and the streams running from under them were icy cold.
Flenser with Amdijefri edged forward, let two of Amdi rest against his sides. Both children liked physical contact, and he was the only one they had besides each other. It was all perversion of course, but Flenser had based his life on manipulating others' weakness, and — but for the pain -welcomed it. Flenser buzzed a deep purring sound through his shoulders, caressing the puppy next to him. "I'll ask our Lord Steel the very next time I see him."
