"Good faith?" Calista interrupted him impatiently. "Leaving marks, sailing up to us, then opening with a completely lopsided trade ratio. That's what you call good faith?
If that's how the Riverbank Guerrillas do business, then this trade is over. Please leave. Also…"
She raised a hand and pointed at a small black dot moving slowly across the sky. "Tell your crew not to point their harpoons where they shouldn't. Our eye in the sky has a short temper."
Jack and his men instinctively looked up, squinting in the direction she pointed.
When someone vaguely made out that it was a drone circling steadily at a very high altitude, all their expressions changed.
They might not be afraid of guns on land, but surveillance and possible strikes from overhead, with no real way to defend against them, were a threat on a completely different level.
At the same time, as if to back up Calista's words, rhythmic metallic pounding echoed from deep inside the industrial park.
It was the sound of a stamping press at work, coming from a medium-sized hardware factory in Block B that mainly produced hammers, axes, hardware parts, and the like.
They were still short on manpower. Aside from keeping the base running normally, they also had to steadily expand the agricultural zone, so the number of workers they could spare was limited.
After discussion among Rock Fortress's core circle, several small and medium-sized daily goods factories in Block B had been the first to receive concentrated manpower and resources for cleanup, and they were also the quickest to resume production.
These included a hygiene products factory, a workwear factory, and a hardware factory.
Jack's Adam's apple bobbed.
He had originally thought the other side was just a land-based survivor group that had occupied a factory and had a few more people than usual. Maybe he could use his unique access to fish and his mobility on the water to gain the upper hand.
But now, it seemed the other side not only had tight defenses and excellent weapons, but also drones and restored industrial capacity.
This was completely beyond what he had imagined a land-based survivor faction could be.
"Miss Calista," the hardness on Jack's face quickly faded, and when he spoke again, his tone was noticeably softer, "we really do need those supplies.
Fish may not be essential to you, but it's still a rare source of protein and extra food. We're willing to adjust the ratio. What do you think would be fair?"
Calista knew the pressure was about right. Push too hard, and the other side might take desperate risks or cut ties completely.
She turned and gave Rickson a look.
Exchange rates were best left to the head steward.
Rickson knew the base's stockpiles and needs better than anyone.
"Medicine will be priced by type and scarcity. For basic antibiotics, one standard crate for two hundred and fifty pounds of processed fresh fish, or the equivalent value in dried fish.
Tools and clothing will be evaluated based on actual value. Salt and sugar can be provided in limited amounts."
The price Rickson quoted still sounded harsh to Jack and the others, but it had entered a range they could negotiate.
Especially coming from someone two meters tall, built like a cross between Dwayne Johnson and Shaquille O'Neal, the terms somehow did not sound quite so unreasonable.
"In addition, we want live fish fry, in a larger batch. As goodwill for the first trade, Rock Fortress can provide an extra batch of water purification tablets and basic wound dressings."
Jack quickly calculated in his head.
The price was lower than he had expected, but not impossible to accept. Especially since the other side was offering water purification tablets and dressings, which were very practical for people like them who lived year-round in damp conditions and were prone to injuries and infections.
More importantly, he realized that building a stable trade relationship with a land-based force that had aerial reconnaissance and industrial capability might be far more valuable in the long run than making a single high-priced deal.
At the very least, the Riverbank Guerrillas would be much safer operating along this stretch of river in the future.
"…Deal." Jack gritted his teeth and extended his hand. "We'll follow your ratio.
For the first trade, we can provide a batch of fresh fish and two kinds of hardy fish fry in exchange for the corresponding medicine and tools. Our people can start counting the exact types and quantities right away."
"Agreed." Calista shook his hand again, this time holding it a little longer. "The trade location will be this dock.
The time, quantity, and type of goods for each trade will be communicated one day in advance by radio on a designated frequency. My communications officer, Danny, will contact you."
Jack nodded, then grew curious about why they wanted so many fish fry.
After all, the industrial park only had one small ornamental lake. He had assumed she only wanted a small batch to try raising them.
So Jack tested the waters. "Fish fry are best raised in running water. The little artificial lake inside the industrial park probably won't work."
Leah gave a soft laugh. "Who said we were raising them here? This is only our industrial zone."
Jack and the others froze.
They had thought this was Rock Fortress's base.
From what they were saying, did Rock Fortress have separate agricultural, livestock, and residential zones too?
Just how large was this force?
"Are you… a government force?"
Calista paused slightly and glanced at Jack. When she saw the faint hope hidden on their faces, she shook her head. "It's the end of the world. We're just ordinary people trying to survive."
Jack and the others looked somewhat disappointed.
Calista's next words brought their attention back to the present. "Also, let's talk about the future.
The Tennessee River is large. How you operate on the water is your business.
But on land, within the current boundaries of the industrial park, your people are not allowed to set foot here without permission.
Likewise, our current activity range is mainly on land, in Knoxville.
We don't interfere with each other, and each side takes what it needs."
This was basically a division of territory. Rock Fortress controlled the land, and the Riverbank Guerrillas occupied the waterways.
Jack had no objection to that. If anything, he looked relieved.
"Agreed! Land is your territory, water is ours. We Riverbank Guerrillas keep our word!"
With the preliminary agreement reached, the atmosphere eased considerably.
The two sides even briefly exchanged information about walkers in the river and the safety of nearby waters.
What Jack and his people described was just like in the original storyline.
There were very few walkers in the river, making it much safer than land, but sometimes they were carried downstream by the current and got stuck against the boats.
Jack and his men returned to the fishing boat by skiff and began preparing the first batch of trade goods.
Watching the fishing boat slowly turn and head downstream, Leah walked to Calista's side and said quietly, "They're not raiders. But that Captain Jack isn't simple."
Rickson nodded. "Anyone who can survive on the water this long and gather a crew obviously isn't simple. They don't believe in our strength yet. If you had played along just now, judging from their faces, they might really have joined us."
Calista looked at the receding silhouettes of the boats. "Jack looks rough and careless, but he's actually very cautious. Once we show enough muscle, they'll believe in our strength.
Rock Fortress doesn't need to use the shell of the state government or the federal government. We have our own path forward.
But they rely on boats, lack depth, and have limited supplies.
We need their fish, and we also need this waterway. For now, cooperation benefits us more than it hurts."
Leah added, "There don't seem to be any other waterborne forces in the nearby waters for now. But judging from this, the waterways really are safer than land. There may be other survivors like them elsewhere. We need to use them to slowly learn more about the river."
"Exactly. Have Danny maintain contact with them. The trade must be carried out strictly according to the terms. The fish we receive must be fresh, and the fish fry must be lively."
Calista turned and looked at the soldiers standing behind her and the busy industrial park not far away. "All right, everyone back to your posts.
As for what happened today, let everyone know we have a new trading partner and that fresh fish will be supplied soon. That should cut down on the complaints in the mess hall."
Once the news spread, it caused a small wave of excitement in the base.
Fresh fish.
For people who had eaten canned food and monotonous farm produce for far too long, this was undeniably tempting.
Although, like fresh vegetables, it would require points to exchange for, at least there was something to look forward to.
Calista returned to command, took a blue pen, drew a circle along the Tennessee River on the map, and marked it: "Riverbank Guerrillas - Trade."
This was Rock Fortress's first true trading partner.
If the trade remained stable, maybe it could eventually develop into an alliance like the one with Rick's group at the prison.
Speaking of which, how were Rick and the others doing now?