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RF25 Morning Show

Written by Arian Mabe (Amethyst Mare)

Commissioned by Mark McCloud

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"Good morning, Refuge Twenty-Five! You are listening to RF Twenty-Five Radio on oh-two-five FM - because we're the only radio station in here!"

The Overseer, Overseer Mandi, shuffled her papers, though there wasn't anything written on them. The Overseer, after all, did not need to put things down on paper when information was the currency of the bunker.

Overseer Mandi's tail swung back and forth through the back of her chair, though there was a bolt missing there, creaking as she shifted her weight. The Espeon anthro was not that large, though she was respected, as was the power of the Overseer, the one that was responsible for all within Refuge Twenty-Five.

However, she was not the one presenting the show, as she did not have those cheery tones in her with as much as there was to tackle in the refuge, waiting her turn, her expression impassive. One could say that joining the female Chatot, bright in her plumage, was a type of meditation to start off the day, beginning her day in contrast to the jubilant, chattering bird-type Pokemon.

DJ Kari Suma was the hostess that brightened every morning in the refuge, even though she did not have to be as jubilant and light-hearted as she was. The Chatot, with her rich, pink beak and sleek, black plumage (okay, it was a little muted since they had not been able to manufacture as many personal items of late) was forever energetic, the DJ spinning back and forth in her squeaky chair as the Overseer patiently waited her turn, as she always did. Routine, like so many things, was what kept them sane in the bunker.

"I'm sure you're all aware that we're coming right up to Graduation Day! It's time for the class of twenty-two fifty to get their gowns and caps on and receive their certificates! Join us in grand hall fifty-seven for the ceremony at sixteen-hundred hours if you'd like to watch and participate!"

"The graduation party for the class of twenty-two fifty only will take place in two days time on the twenty-eighth! Bring your best smiles and get your party on! You only graduate once, if at all, and it's a time to be celebrated and remembered!"

DJ Kari Suma paused, swinging back in her chair, a headset on so that she did not need to speak directly into a microphone placed on any desk. The plastic on it was cracked but, to its credit, it had lasted decades, so the Pokemon did not have much to complain about there.

"That won't clash with Pokeball try outs now, will it? If you're graduating, make sure that you get your turn on the Pokeball pitch well before the party begins at fifteen hundred hours. You don't want to miss either of these if you're into your Pokeball and you're graduating too!"

"Yes, yes, yes - so that's Pokeball try outs for the grand team at ten-hundred hours on the twenty-eighth of this month, followed by the graduation party at fifteen-hundred hours down into the night! Who knows when the Overseer will shut that one down? Light it up, guys!"

The Overseer rolled her eyes, though Overseer Mandi was not the only one, other Pokemon in the refuge bunker saw through the cheeriness. At a table in the canteen, a Zebstrika and a Rapidash shared a look, snorting and rolling their eyes, though those graduating seemed in better spirits than most. They clustered around the game tables, taking their chance to relax, a spot of foosball and table tennis taking their fancy, having worked so hard in a dystopian post-apocalyptic world that was the norm to many, yet still difficult to live in.

That was where DJ Kari Suma came in, there to brighten their days and lift their spirits.

"To keep things sunny, the weather is bright and partly cloudy with zero precipitation! That'll shine nice for you down in the Pokeball pitch chamber! You don't want to have those try outs without some good, old sunshine shining down on you all!"

The Chatot fluttered her feathers, but there was much to be said: she had to continue.

"The radiation level is two-thousand REM today, so, please, keep your hands, paws, tails and claws inside the refuge if you would like to survive! No exit to the surface is permitted today!"

No dweller was ever permitted, but she said it anyway, as it was scripted.

"So, please remember that, here, you are protected. Outside, you are not. That is why we stay here, in the refuge, with Overseer Mandi always ensuring all is well!" The Chatot giggled, though the mirth did not fit, as speaking of the outside world was always far too dark for her liking. "Thank you! Keep it a bright and sunny morning from DJ Kari Suma!"

That the radiation levels had not changed in many, many years, of course, was not something that she had to tell them. The numbers were manufactured, generated, something that the Overseer passed over to her every morning, checking them herself for the good of the refuge. It was the best she could do for them, down there, though she was out among them too, playing her part, even though that slipped from time to time. The role of the Overseer was not an easy one to play and everyone understood that to the extent that she needed them too.

"Speaking of graduation, our new graduates will choose their roles after the great party - isn't that something? You must all be looking so very much forward to finding your role and place in the refuge, though it seems like such a long time since I was chosen to present the morning show! Who knew that I would be a better fit as a DJ than a cook in the canteen, your favourite place of all? I bet you didn't think I'd end up here!"

Of course, roles within the refuge were chosen depending on the roles of parents, the jobs they held, so it was not all that much of a surprise, even if Kari pretended that it was so. The Chatot chirped, continuing.

"Remember that you play a vital role in the refuge, regardless of the role that you choose!"

She made it sound like there was a choice, but that was the way of it, despite how low job satisfaction was.

"It's important to remain focused on your role, to do good by the refuge, to carry us forward. We may even make contact with other refuges one day - oh, wouldn't that be something!"

Others scoffed, but in the DJ both, the presentation room was soundproofed and blocked off from the rest of the refuge, so the Chatot was oblivious. She wouldn't have known what was going on out there if a bomb had gone off, caught up in her own little world to the exclusion of all else. While others drank bitter coffee, tore into bread that was nothing like what the world had enjoyed before, she pretended that all was well.

For the good of Refuge Twenty-Five.

"Fuck, what's she thinking?"

A Bulbasaur leaned up to a Charmander, both graduates of the previous year, wearing janitorial outfits.

"She thinks they should be happy about graduating..."

"Yeah, just because she had a good gig."

"I'd be happy too if I was chirping into a microphone all day."

"You couldn't do it if they paid you, mate."

"I could too!"

Everyone, or near enough everyone, thought that they could do better, be better, if only their lot in life had been better. Cursing was frowned upon in the refuge, but there was little that could be done to curtail it, an example of, once again, Overseer Mandi choosing and picking which battles she wanted to play out. Everything there was part of one large experiment. The residents just didn't know it.

But the dulcet tones of the Chatot were, at the very least, something familiar, something that they could look forward to, something that gave their lives down there rhyme and rhythm. Some were bolstered by the mention of Pokeball tournaments starting up again, giving them meaning to what a year was when something only took place in a certain part of it. Time could lose meaning otherwise, so all that was put into place, in a way, was manufactured.

Everything there was. But that was alright, in a way.

"Lunch will be served at noon sharp for one hour only, so don't be late if you want to fill your bellies! That means you too, Cinder Snap - we know you're always late!"

The Cyndaquill, in all honesty, was late because she was busy, though there was little arguing with someone who was merely a voice filtering, almost eerily, through the refuge.

"Take the time to stop in and see Groomer Felix if you've got claws - we don't want to damage the refuge, so keep them all in tip-top shape!"

She grinned, clicking her beak, the microphone on the headset a little too close, but no matter: it was nearly all done.

"That's about all the news announcements I have for you today - I'm so sorry! I'd love to sit here and talk to you all - all day long! Overseer Mandi would like to wrap up the show with a few words. Take it away, Overseer!"

The Overseer's microphone was now active and the Espeon sat up a little taller, a small, gentle smile on her face, though that was merely so that her tone came out as she wanted it to. Everything there had to be smooth, calculated, exactly as she intended it to be. It would not be such later, surely after the next disaster, but she would keep it calm while their experiment ran. Until the conclusion of the experiment in the bunker, which, to be fair, was not the worst of them all, she would be in charge. Who only knew what would happen when the Espeon was no longer overseeing them?

"Good morning to all in Refuge Twenty-Five," she said smoothly, her voice carrying throughout the entire refuge, channelled there, as it was for the radio show announcement, every morning. "I hope you are all doing well today. This is a reminder that you will be required to submit genetic samples to the genealogy laboratory by Friday at seventeen-hundred hours, before free time."

"This is to ensure that the impact of inbreeding in the breeding program of the refuge is, of course, reduced as much as possible. The health and wellbeing of future generations depend on it."

Of course, there were few that cared about such things - they couldn't even live on the surface, after all, so what did genetics count for down there? A Ninetales swigged a glass of water, already dressed for teaching, though that had been a role too that had been her mother's and she had not, to be fair, wanted to go into anything janitorial. What they could do was limited. Complaints were not tolerated but recorded.

"I wish you a good day."

"Aaaaand that's all from our Overseer, Overseer Mandi! Wow, thanks Overseer for such a wonderful announcement!"

Kari would have said it was such regardless of what the announcement was.

"With that, that's all from me too, DJ Kari Suma!"

The Chatot grinned, chattering at the microphone, playing a jingle, before her tone dropped, becoming softer, smoother, mimicking that of the Overseer, though she was deliberately one pitch off.

"I wish you a good day."

Kari giggled, the Espeon sighing, standing, walking away. One could have said it was an inside joke, but not one that the Overseer saw much need in expending capital on quelling such things. Her authority was not questioned and it only would be if she felt that she had to make a particular point of something.

Until then, she would not worry. Life in Refuge twenty-five would continue, as it always had, their experiments intact.

With the morning radio show concluded, DJ Kari Suma sat back in her chair: it was time for the day to go on.

As it always did for Refuge Twenty-Five.

Always.