Revelations of a Grey Coat Hunter

21

     "Ok, so I've got some questions," Monty began. He definitely felt uneasy now. This new shadow was certainly familiar, like someone from his distant past that had undergone a major change in their appearance and was now almost unrecognizable. Of course, it would help if the bastard would move closer. But that didn't make sense. The shadow seemed like he was seated right next to Monty, yet at the same time, he seemed to be clear across the room. Monty shook his head, trying to focus. "Right. Question one. Actually talking to the Board of Overseers would basically fry my brain, so it's safe to assume these guys aren't human?"

     "No, they are not human," the shadow confirmed. "Never were, and never will be."

     "Then, all due respect, where the hell do they get off, telling Hunters what to do, dictating our lives, locking us up in coffins and forcing us to make impossible choices?" Monty asked, clenching his fists. "Who do they think they are, that they can tell humans what to do?"

     "The only humans in the Foundation are willfully employed. They all signed contracts that outlined what would be expected of them, that this would be a lifetime commitment, and that they would be working with Artifacts."

     "I never signed any damned contract!"

     "You're not human, are you?"

     Monty made a face. "Ok, haha, got me that time. Fine. Ok, so then if they're not human, what are they?"

     "They're Artifacts, just like you."

     "So, we're getting our orders for hunting Artifacts from other Artifacts?" Monty asked, frowning.

     "That is correct. Artifacts are being directed by Artifacts to hunt Artifacts."

     "I still don't get it. Everyone keeps saying that these guys are the ultimate authority on all things Artifact. Now I find out they're Artifacts themselves. But where do the Hunters come into all of this? How can the Artifacts on the Board of Overseers know more than the Hunters who are actually out in the field?"

     "Because the Board of Overseers is comprised of Hunters who were actually out in the field."

     Monty frowned more. "Wait, I thought you said they were Artifacts?"

     "They are. All Hunters are Artifacts. And those Artifacts eventually become part of the Board of Overseers."

     "So, what, this is the retirement plan?" Monty asked, still confused as he foolishly peered around the empty room, trying to recognize the Hunters among the shadows. "You finish up as a Hunter, and you join the Board? But Arthur is hundreds of years old! Why isn't he... Wait. Just wait one damned minute!" He shook his head. "Anubhiv said he was formed because Arthur had contact with the telepathic communicators for centuries, and after a while his memories became Anubhiv. But I got the impression he was the oldest Hunter in the Foundation?"

     "He is. The oldest living Hunters aside from him are only a few centuries old."

     "So then, why isn't Arthur himself on the Board?"

     "Because he is alive."

     Monty stiffened, feeling cold. "Wait. Wait, you mean... Are you saying that the Board of Overseers is actually...?"

     "Let me give you a little history lesson," the shadow began. "Once upon a time, back when the Foundation was a group of old men who were desperate to recruit friendly Artifacts to help fight the unfriendly variety, someone stumbled over a large collection of tiny pieces of metal with little, tiny carvings on them. Later, those carvings were determined to be sigils, but that's not important to the story. What is important is that there was a much bigger chunk of metal that had the way bigger and easier to read version of those sigils. Eventually, someone figured out that if those little bits of carved metal were placed in contact with the head of a high-level telepath, they facilitated communication with another telepath who held the big version up to his head. Neat, huh? Anyway, they started using them in the field to communicate, and everything was cool, right up until they figured out that the Artifacts who kept holding the big boy to their heads were suffering horrible headaches, and after a while they'd stroke right out and die. Not cool, so they stopped using them."