Not much appeared to have changed in The Rink from the last time I was there. Considering how much had changed around my location, I would have thought that such progress would be occurring everywhere. Part of me had always wondered why, given human’s ability to control their environment, why this world hadn’t recovered yet from the disease. I wasn’t suggesting things would go back the way they were, but at the very least, humans should have been able to retake the cities and keep them safe from mutants and abominations. Communities shouldn’t have been limited to a few dozen or a hundred people each, let alone be separated by long stretches of dangerous terrain.
Maybe, I was expecting far too much. Didn’t it take humans thousands of years to finally start building the infrastructure that would inevitably lead to the world I lived in? It couldn’t be that easy to just fix everything. The one resource that seemed to always be lacking was food. Thanks to the disease, plants barely grew any fruit anymore, and no one had been able to discover why this happened.
Mutant beasts made farming difficult, and even when they could farm, the yield was very low. As a result, it was difficult for groups of more than a few hundred to congregate in any specific place and expect to eat reliably. Many still survived scavenging the scraps of food leftover from the past civilization. Perhaps, I was severely underestimating the power of the fresh food I brought from my world. The Mayor seemed to believe that it was important.
That’s why, shortly after getting searched, a small group of five of us were allowed into the Rink, and a familiar slave appeared in front of me.
“Daniel, it’s been a long time since you’ve last visited. I feared that you no longer valued our continued partnership.”
Like before, the voice coming out was none other than the mayor, who remained up in his office. However, the slave moved her body as if she was speaking for the mayor. She would smile, frown, or gesture in rhythm with her Master’s words. She didn’t move her lips, though, giving the whole performance a surreal feel, if the fact a man’s voice was coming from a short, pretty girl wasn’t already surreal.
“I value all of my partnerships,” I responded. “As long as they remain profitable.”
“I, too, concern myself with such things. I am under the understanding that you are looking for slaves. Slaves are an expensive business. Although we don’t do any slave trading in the Rink, anyone who wishes to buy slaves requires the crystals to do it, and that is one thing we do not lack in.”
“Then perhaps we can make some arrangements. The old rate?”
“Of course, as long as the food remains at the same quality as before.”
“Some of it might even be better quality.”
“That delights my ears. Then, come, let us see what you have to offer.” The slave made a gesture, guiding me to come with her to the elevator.
“If you don’t mind, most of my trading is done with the merchants. I will stay near the market.” Tom declared.
Most of the caravan was asked to stay outside, but five representatives were allowed to enter. While the caravan made camp, Raven, Tom, two of his guards, and I were allowed in. I wanted to bring all of the Fire Ravens with me, but that would have left no room for Tom, let alone people carry the goods. He was a trader, after all, and he needed to trade. Thus, as the pair of us split up, my only protection was Raven. The pair of us entered the elevator lift which took us up to the mayor’s office.
“I must say, your company this time feels like a downgrade. The beautiful Katarina was a sight to behold. I hope you haven’t experienced too much misfortune since we last met.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Raven shot the slave a furious look, even lifting her fist, despite the fact the slave wasn’t the person who said the words.
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The slave was emoting for her Master though, and the almost mocking glare on her face wasn’t helping her situation as Raven held her by the shirt.
“I mean no offense. An untouched colonist like her is a rare sight. Meanwhile, Wastelanders are a dime a dozen. Even ugly women typically have to have something a man desires.”
Raven scowled in confusion for a second, but the slave’s eyes dropped down to her completely flat chest. The slave wasn’t particularly large. Compared to the likes of Red, she might as well be called flat-chested, but she was still superior to Raven’s washboard chest. Raven’s face turned red, and she lifted her first to punch, but I wrapped my arm around her waist and pulled her to me.
“Raven is my woman, and unlike a slave, she comes to my bed eagerly and willing. Can you say the same?”
My sharp look caused the slave’s mouth to open in surprise. Her cheeks turned red, and then she looked away.
“As I said, I didn’t mean to offend. I was merely speaking in admiration for your previous woman. My apologies.”
His words had annoyed me, so I had spoken up suddenly. I didn’t want to cause trouble. I felt a pinch on my arm, and I looked at Raven, whose small waste my arm was wrapped around. She had suddenly quieted, and her face was red.
“J-jerk…” She said quietly.
Huh? Why was I a jerk? I was defending her! I let go of her waist, and she only relaxed after that. Her body… did feel good to hold though. She also wasn’t nearly as ugly as the Mayor suggested. It was just that Katarina was an abnormal beauty amongst the wasteland.
Since Raven started wearing her hair down instead of in a mohawk and also started wearing clothing that showed her feminine physique, she was looking more and more girly. She’d never be as beautiful as my sister or Katarina. Even Kiera had her beat. However, there was something about her that I liked. That’s when a vision of her naked and bouncing on top hit my mind again, and it was my turn to blush.
Raven noticed my sudden strange look, but the elevator reached the mayor’s office though, so I was spared from having to answer to it.
“Daniel, we have a lot to discuss.” The mayor was sitting behind his desk, a half-smile on his face.
“Raven.” I nodded to her.
She walked forward, putting a large pack on the desk. Other than my survival gear, I had filled the rest of my digitizer up with food to trade. However, that only amounted to maybe a single backpack worth of food. I had known we’d be trading the rink, and that I wouldn’t have a convenient time to return to the warehouse and bring more food here, so I ordered the Blood Raven’s to secure some of the supplies from the market and bring them with them to sell.
The sack Raven was carrying contained such supplies. Before we had gone into the Rink, we had gone through and combined all of the supplies I was ready to exchange for crystals. It was about six times the amount of food was able to trade with him the first time I had come to the rink, although since he paid more for canned food over water, I had maximized what sold for more.
With the bag on his desk, the mayor reached in and pulled a few cans out. He shook them but didn’t bother to pop any of them open. He then pushed it over to the side, where his slave began to go through and count them out.
“I’ve been told that you’re setting up a mercantile business, but aren’t interested in your caravan.”
“I prefer to stay in one spot.”
“I’ve also heard that you’ve begun clearing out the subway, intending to open up a safe path to the Rink.”
“You’re well informed.”
“How could I not be when it concerns the future of my community?” He chuckled. “Since you are opening up the subway, then I would like to contribute to this endeavor. We’re the link between your community and the rest of Argos city, and I believe you’ll become our link to the outside world.”
“Outside?”
“If you haven’t noticed, our position deep in the city has limited our capacity to grow as a community. Mutant attacks are common here, which is why we are so wealthy, but lack supplies. Meanwhile, you’re far closer to the southern edge of Argos city. In time, I believe your place could become a hub between Argos and other cities. All we need to do is attract the real caravans.”
“Isn’t Tom a real caravan?”
“He’s more of a low-scale trader. He only trades within the communities of Argos city, and he depends more on keeping his packs light and mobile rather than well defended. Just as the slave traders make circuits from city to city, many large caravans do the same. In the past, the only thing Argos City produced of any value was people to be slaves, so only slavers were ever interested in coming here, and more often to buy rather than sell.”
“You think this will change?”
“Word spreads slowly in the wasteland, but once your food becomes known, I believe caravans will start to come to Argos city.”
“And all of those goods will flood through the Rink to reach other communities.” I finished.
He let out a laugh. “Exactly! I think we should renegotiate our agreement. I see the potential for a very profitable future.”
I nodded, walking up and sitting in the chair across from him. “I was thinking the same thing.”