Read Finch by Jeff VanderMeer for Free Online

have been right there too. Anything to waste time.
    "Looks like Heretic's given you a long to-do list," Gustat said. Too
young to have known anything but war and the Rising.
    Finch said nothing. By now, the pliant paper had grown to drape
itself over both sides of Finch's desk, sliding into his lap. Clutched at
it. Saw the rows of information in the reed-thin, spidery print common
to gray cap documents. He let out a long, deep breath.
    "It's the records of everyone who ever lived in the apartment of the
double murder I was at this morning. Going back. . ." He checked as
the paper finished unspooling. "Going back over a century. More."
    Pulse quickening. How am I supposed to investigate that?
    MORDEN, JONATHAN, OCCUPANCY 3 MONTHS, 2 DAYS, 11 MINUTES,
5 SECONDS-WORKED IN FOOD DISTRIBUTION IN THE CAMPS ...
    WILDEN, SARAH, OCCUPANCY 8 MONTHS, 3 DAYS, 2 MINUTES, 45
SECONDS-NEVER LEFT THE APARTMENT EXCEPT FOR GETTING FOOD.
HAD THREE CATS. LIKED TO READ ...

    A sudden panic. Smothered by the past. Lost in it.
    Tried to get a grip. Wadded the paper up, pocketed the photographs.
While the other detectives gave out nervous laughs. Returned to their
desks. Frightened again.
    No one wanted this kind of case.
    A sudden anger rose in Finch. Did Heretic really think that this list
would be helpful? It was scaring the shit out of him.
    Wyte had been standing behind the others, holding his coffee mug.
Loomed now like an actor from backstage, suddenly revealed.
    "A lot of information," Wyte said.
    Finch glared at him. Hands splattered with yellow and green.
"Find me a towel."
    Wyte put down his coffee, rummaged in a desk drawer.
    SILVAN, JAMES, OCCUPANCY 15 MONTHS, 3 DAYS, I HOUR, 50
MINUTES, 2 SECONDS-COLLABORATOR WITH A SPLINTER REBEL
FACTION ...
    HUGHES, SHANNA, OCCUPANCY I MONTH, 2 WEEKS, 3 DAYS, 10
MINUTES, 35 SECONDS-KILLED BY A FUNGAL BOMB ...
    "Maybe they got it from the old bureaucratic quarter?" Wyte whispered
out of the side of his mouth as he leaned over to give Finch the towel.
Smell of sweat mixed with something sweeter. "Maybe they just copied
it down?" Returning to his desk, receding into the background.
    "It's half-encrypted with their symbols, Wyte," Finch said. Tried
to correct for the disdain in his voice. "It contains surveillance
information. They collected it themselves."
    From underground. Using a million spore-eye cameras. Somewhere,
he knew, in one of a series of images captured by the gray caps: evidence
of his past that Heretic didn't know about. Finch as a Hoegbotton Irregular
fighting against Frankwrithe & Lewden in the War of the Houses. Finch
standing side by side with F&L soldiers against the gray caps before they Rose.
What he'd done.

    Except the gray caps didn't have the time to pore over that many images
unless given a good reason. And Finch hadn't. Only Wyte knew the truth.
    GILRISH, MEGHAN, OCCUPANCY 10 MONTHS, 3 WEEKS, 6 DAYS, 14
HOURS, 15 MINUTES, 6 SECONDS-OWNER OF A GROCERY STORE...
    BARRAN, GEORGE, OCCUPANCY 2 YEARS, 1 WEEK, 5 DAYS, 7 MINUTES,
18 SECONDS-DIED OF OLD AGE ...
    Finch stared at the first rows of names on the paper. The sheer
density of information defeated him.
    Kept thinking about the bodies. Saw them lying there on the floor
of the apartment. They dropped in out of thin air.
    Why there?
    A riddle wrapped in a puzzle. Perversely comforting, that the
memory bulbs might hold the answers.
    Never lost.
    Bellum omnium contra omnes.
    Never lost.
    Said it three times under his breath. Wondering if Wyte was staring
at him. Still didn't dislodge an answer.
    "Well," Finch said, out of the corner of his mouth, "do you know
what those words mean? Bellum omnium contra omnes?"
    But Wyte was done talking to him about the case.
    Sometimes the overlay of reality seemed a sham. One day, he would
turn a corner on a rubble-strewn street. Pass through an archway into
a courtyard. Be back in that other, simpler world. When he worked
in the same building but as a