Bunker 77

Prologue

In a gentle way, you can shake the world.
-Mahatma Gandhi

***

The sound of the first ring in the morning indicated that breakfast was ready in the dining hall. People began to enter the dining hall and searched for a seat. Some people, like my parents, didn't bother to eat there and took the food to their rooms. For me, it was preferable  to stay because it let me listen to the current report of the war.

As I took a seat, the monotone voice of Raisha could be heard all around the dining hall. She began the report with a routine greeting as the chatter in the dining hall died down. Everyone was all ears to listen to the current report on the war.

"Do you think they're going for a truce today? I heard it's very likely since the enemy's food and supplies are decreasing."

It took me several seconds before I realised the woman was talking to me. Sharing a table with strangers was something I occasionally did, but most people would just leave after the meal without saying a word. Besides, small talk was discouraged by the upper class because it would reduce productivity. 

Turning to the woman's question, I shrugged. "Maybe. But my fiance said General Kasem wouldn't settle for a truce because he wants to end the war as soon as he can."

"Your fiance?" The woman asked, eyeing me carefully. 

Before I could answer that my fiance was in the military, Raisha's monotonous voice went silent before the hysterical voice of another news reporter screamed through the cafeteria. 

"I can't do this anymore! Everything is fine! They're lying! Th-" 

The sound of someone being strangled was the last thing we heard before the line was cut off completely. 

Startled, the sweet potato from the woman's hand fell onto the disposable paper plate. "Was that...Melati?"

A bit unsure of myself, I nodded slowly. "Sounds like her."

Melati was one of the regular news reporters that would report on the war every morning and evening. She had been around for so long that I grew up hearing her voice. 

I shared a confused look with the woman in front of me. The food on our table lay untouched, and our appetite seemed to be lost with the silence of the speakers. "What just happened?"

The woman, whose name I didn't know, shrugged and stared into space for a few moments. She hummed a tune while resting her chin on her palm.

All over the dining hall, murmurs began to arise. Many were questioning Melati's announcement and accusing her of insanity.

"The war must have taken a toll on her. Poor girl, I hope she will be fine," an elderly man said.

"That's why no one is allowed to go outside. You see, cases like this always happen when someone with a weak heart is exposed to the outside world for a long time," a mother beside my table warned her young son.

The boy shivered. "Then, I don't want to enter military training."

"Shh," the mother brushed her son's head. "Don't worry about it. You're still young. They won't recruit you for another few years. The war might end by then," she said soothingly, but I could hear the uncertainty in her voice.

Seeing the hope in the boy's eyes as he hugged his mother tightly, I wanted to believe her too. But the situation wasn't always on our side. Fikree said the outside world was far worse than what we heard in the reports. We had lost many warriors since the last decade, and no sign of victory could be seen on our side at this moment. 

Most people in the bunker had at least one relative in the military, and some of them never came back after they went outside.

I haven't seen my older brother for years. No one knows if he's still alive after the last mission went terribly wrong. 

My brother and his troop were tasked with delivering a set of supplies to the other bunker, but they never came back. Their connection with our bunker was cut off halfway through the journey, and it's almost certain that they never reached their destination. 

Our family was distraught when Fikree delivered the news. But we knew that was the risk in the military; there was no guarantee they would come back alive or even come back at all.

"Do you believe that?" The woman at my table whispered as if she was worried someone else would hear it.

"Believe what?" I whispered back.

She glanced at her shoulders before leaning against the table. "What Melati said. That everything is fine?" 

"I…wh-why would I believe what she said?" I said, shocked. Nevertheless, the question sent shivers down my spine, because of curiosity or worry, I didn't know.

Sighing, she leaned back against her chair. "I don't know...just giving her the benefit of the doubt, I guess. I mean, I haven't seen the situation outside, so I couldn't say for sure. But she's outside, and to hear her say that everything's fine made me curious. "

"But just because we can't see the war, that doesn't mean it didn't happen. My older brother and my fiance are in the military. They and countless others couldn't all be lying, could they? Melati is clearly outnumbered in this case."

"Well, when you say it like that...maybe you're right," she nodded and relaxed in her seat before picking up her sweet potato to take a bite. "Now that I think about it, I haven't heard Melati delivering the reports for a while. Maybe she's overwhelmed with the war and all," she murmured under her breath, but loud enough for me to hear.

 "Oh, what's your name anyway?" It's nice talking to you."

Her question was left without an answer for a few seconds as I chewed on my potato. "I'm Amna, from Division Two," I said, smiling at her.

"Oh! You're from Division Two, too?" She said excitedly. "I'm Teratai, from Sector C, Division Two. If I'm not in the kitchen, this is where I am. Which sector are you?  I thought you were from Division One. You look like one of them," she pointed to my clothes before scratching her head sheepishly.

I glanced down at my clothes. I wore an emerald tunic with a black trousers compared to her worn out grey blouse. "Oh, this shirt is a gift from my fiance. But I live in Sector D. My family and I have been seamstresses for a few generations. But my brother and two of my uncles were in the army. Do you have any relatives in the military?"

She shook her head. "I'm an only child, and both of my parents are farmers. I don't have any other relatives that I know of. My parents rarely talk about their families."

Everyone in the bunker had their part to play to keep the bunker running smoothly. There were two divisions in the bunker and four sectors. Division One was the upper class in the bunker because of their ability to go outside, consisting of Sector A and Sector B. Sector A was the military personnel, and Sector B was the doctors, reporters, and those who had been granted special permission to live in Division One. 

Division Two consists of Sector C, a group of people who grow crops and serve food. The farmers grow crops in the protected dome, making them the only people from Division Two that could see the sky. Sector D was the sector for people who made armour and sewed clothes for the military and other sectors. 

We ate in silence as the conversation ended. Teratai stood up after she had finished her food and drink. "I need to go now and do my work. It's nice meeting you, Amna. I hope we can meet again."

"Likewise, Teratai. Take care," I nodded to her and stood up, taking the plate to throw them in the bins before going our separate ways.

As everyone began to leave the dining hall to start the day in their respective sectors, Melati's hysterical voice from the speakers was soon forgotten, and no one talked about it for a long time.