Xenoform by Mr Mike Berry Read Free Book Online

One of his hands was toying with the shape of an electrified knife through the fabric of his pocket. Dark doorways filed past like rows of broken teeth. People on the streets, even this late. Birds circling the rooftops like ash in the wind. Rain running like the blood of the city.
    ‘Him?’ asked Sofi, pointing to a man on her side of the street. He moved arrogantly through the crowd on four strutting robot legs, his head sporting spiralled horns of anodised metal, the rain slicking his naked torso.
    ‘Extreme. I like him,’ answered Whistler, resisting the urge to slow down suspiciously as she watched him into the crowd.
    ‘Those stupid-ass legs run off a symbiotic DNI program though – they’re not a true bodymod,’ pointed out Tec.
    ‘Shame,’ said Spider. ‘Can we go somewhere quieter?’
    ‘Or louder,’ countered Whistler, chewing her lip thoughtfully with her pointed fangs as she focused on the road. The van wove between badly parked or abandoned gravpods, some of them resting on the ground, with the detritus of ages drifted against them.
    ‘What have you in mind?’ asked Roberts.
    ‘Wanna go clubbing, Rob?’ asked Whistler cheerfully, shoving him on the shoulder.
    ‘Not really,’ he said, and Sofi actually laughed.
    ‘Where?’ asked Tec. His lights were a blur of activity now. They always went crazy when he was plugged in.
    ‘I know a place…’
    ‘Classy I’m guessing,’ interjected Roberts.
    ‘Bit of a fuckin’ dive, actually,’ replied Whistler, laughing. ‘S’called Pharmacopia.’
    ‘Pharmacopia? Stupid name for a club.’
    ‘Just that. I think it’s down this way.’ She nodded to the left, looking for a turning in that direction. An open-top gravpod zoomed by them on the right, running the lights. A teetering young woman rose from her seat and threw a can at the van, screaming something which went unheard over the music. The can bounced harmlessly off into the road, pluming liquid which looked like either piss or cider. None of the harvesters mentioned it, considering the incident unworthy of their attention. They had work to do.
    ‘So that’s your plan, eh, boss? Go to some skanky club night?’ demanded Sofi.
    ‘Yes.’ She sighed. ‘It wouldn’t be the first time for you, would it, Sofe?’
    Sofi, even in her present mood, knew better than to take the bait. She thudded back into her seat, face expressionless. Everyone knew she was seething inside. Whistler and the others tolerated Sofi’s anger. It never got in the way of her work, never made her careless or unpredictable, never got as far as serious psychosis. All of them knew that she would die for them, if need be, when the moment came. Sofi had come from a similar background to Whistler herself – true child of the streets born and bred, veteran of several gangs, ex-juke addict. Although they didn’t always get on Whistler felt a particular affinity with her because of this.
    Tec queried the satnav and started directing them to the club. Had Whistler been a buttonhead, the route would have transferred directly to her mind, but she was used to a human navigator. She could still have programmed the van to drive itself, but she preferred to be in control. Tec pointed her under a concrete overpass and down a one-way street.
    Spider left his seat and moved to a console next to Tec. He plugged in and started silently talking to the van, probably just updating its little brain about the plan for the evening, such as it was. The van, although possessed of limited simulated intelligence, was generally treated as another member of the team. Spider particularly babied it, and liked to keep it in the loop. Whistler vaguely protested at this habit. After all, the more the van knew, the more it could tell a hacker. But the others, who knew more about this sort of thing than her, assured her it was safe. Whistler’s unique talents lay in a different area, so she deferred to them in the matter.
    They rounded a corner where