Author: Julian Miles, Staff Writer

The distant glow on the horizon fades. On every screen, only night and stars are visible.
“What now, sir?”
A fat man in a too-tight uniform turns to regard the lean attendant.
“We are victorious. Carry on, operator. You will be commended to the whole bunker and informed of your reward when our Leaderman next addresses us.”
Gus, the operator, exits the command chamber and moves quickly down the long corridor until they reach Elevator One. Presenting their credentials at the monitoring station, they wait for access to be granted.
When the doors open, they find themselves alone in the elevator: something they don’t ever recall happening before. The doors close and the elevator descends.
Gus wonders about the reward. Maybe a trip outside? They’d first left the surface because the weather was awful. Back then, Leaderman One said the Commie Hordes done it before invading. The weather didn’t get better for a long while. Eventually the Commies got defeated by the Canuck Opportunists who wanted nothing better than for them who’d done gone underground to come up to be raped and pillaged, so Leaderman Four said everyone should stay down here and let the Canucks starve.
It was Leaderman Six who discovered the SocDem Insurrectionist plot stirring up bunker dwellers against the glorious Peace in Good Time Plan. Leaderman Seven said Six gave his life in combat with the false leaders of SocDem to save everyone.
Leaderman Eight came in with the survivors of Glory Bunker. The sea had breached its lower levels. They’d fled before the power pile seals gave and the whole place blew wide open. Which it did. Gave this bunker two straight days of shakes and a lot of folks a renewed interest in praying.
Leaderman Nine was the grandson of Leaderman Seven. Leaderman Ten the son of Leaderman Nine. It made things tidier, having Leadermen raise their children to be Leadermen. Made sense, too. You could be sure the man at the top knew everything he needed to know about the bunker, because he’d been raised for it.
Gus had been brought up to be a missile operator like his dad. Taught he was better than drone operators, but not as good as bred-for-the-line officers. Unlike his dad, he’d got to operate a missile today. He’d guided it through the anti-missiles and the jets and the enemy drones and all the way down to the big letter ‘A’ on the roof of the bunker. Must have been an old bunker. He’d thought nobody had them visible overground. Who named their bunker ‘Peace’ and painted its name on top like a big target? He shrugs. Had made a good target, though.
He looks up. It’s taking a long time to reach the barracks level? What’s hissing? Something smells bad.
The speakers crackle.
“This is Leaderman Jones of the New Order. The era of numbered leaders is over! Leaderman Twenty has resigned his commission and retired along with his command staff to run Peace Bunker. We at Hope and Glory Bunker wish them all well.”
The elevator doors open. A large sign on the wall opposite reads ‘Furnace Level: Suit Up or Get Out’.
Two figures in bulky heat-proof suits enter.
The taller of them points to the body.
“Another operator?”
The other crouches and checks.
“Yup.”
The tall one sighs.
“Docket says collect and burn, no records. Another glorious victory, then. Yooessay.”
“What does that mean?”
“Old world word. Sort of like ‘whoopee’.”
“Oh. Okay.”
They drag the body out.