I unfolded the map of the city. It was about a meter wide and the blocks we were going to renovate were marked with red wax. Riding Penny hands-free was the best, really. I lost concentration and my mind wandered straight into the scribes and soldiers imprisoned in the former slave barracks. We didn't have locks but I doubt they will escape five centimeters thick aluminum bars on their own. I thought about what I could do and all paths pointed out at their death. I didn't want to get them killed but what choices did I have? I couldn't think of anything.

The convoy was moving slowly. The oxen were strong but slow. We had a dozen soldiers as our guard and I hoped it was enough. The population was scarce but they were jumpy. Wary. A teardrop away from a riot. Even so, with Dime soaring above us and the city guards clearly identified, we had no trouble reaching the first burnt block.

I couldn't shake this feeling that I was too small to jump the chasm I saw before me. The anxiety threatened to punch a hole in my stomach.

"Milady, we have arrived," One guard stated at my side.

His statement of the obvious shook me into action. I gave him a fake smile and nodded. What was this feeling? It was as if I had a stalker behind me. Something...

Watching me.

I looked behind me and frowned. There was nothing. Above, below, everything was normal. What was that pressure? It felt familiar but I couldn't pin it. I brushed it aside and put myself to work.

The block was half-burnt but entirely ruined. The houses used one another as supports and they fell like dominos. Maybe some wooden beams could be salvaged but I had no idea if they were damaged. I opted to act on the side of caution and intended to destroy everything with my power.

"Thank you. Now, I want three barrels and the box with twenty compartments next to me at all times. Make sure no civilians enter the area," I barked my orders as I got down.

Penny snorted and nudged me. Yes, I know I have to calm down. Easier said than done.

I rubbed my hands. They felt cold even under the scorching summer sun. Once the containers were next to me, I put myself to work. Decompose the debris, retrieve the materials. Recycle them. One of the things I wanted to try was to manipulate the cellulose fibers instead of breaking them down entirely into glucose. I touched the wood and focused for a few minutes. The wood broke as if eaten by maggots and the white strands moved slowly.

Decompose depends on familiarity. The more I worked a material, the easier it was to use my power on it.

At the same time, I moved over the broken chunks of daub. I removed the silicon into blobs, exercising my dual manipulation. Around us, a crowd of curious onlookers formed. I kept two guards moving the containers around me as I worked and the others went to contain the crowd. Eventually I had to draft the cart drivers to help.

The most common materials I just removed and left behind in a convenient shape for later collection, like blobs of graphite and silicon. The rest went into the barrels and crates, such as cellulose fibers from the wood, aluminum, and some other metals from the clay and broken objects, calcium carbonate, small amounts of common elements like potassium, magnesium, sodium combined as salts of chlorides, carbonates, and sulfates.

The blurb from the crowd increased. People were now climbing on the houses adjacent to the burnt block I was cleaning to watch. The cart drivers had to go look after their animals and to stop theft of the materials.

And then the house I was Decomposing crumbled and collapsed on stupid me and covered everything with a dust cloud. A wall fell over me, hitting my chest and pinning me down. I was dazed and in pain. I couldn't even think of using Decompose to move the material away.

Maybe I called the montage too early. Maybe I should be a bit more careful working the debris. Too late now. I had other things to worry about. As if it were their theatrical cue, they appeared from everywhere. The ruined buildings had become rat nests. Once the buildings crumbled and broke, they stirred out of their warrens. Dozens, hundreds of rats. Large rats. They were frenzied, large, and vicious.

And hungry.

I could sense them. Probably my animal empathy perk. I know it said "friendship" on the label but I didn't buy it. The biggest rats were the size of terriers and their teeth shouldn't be that big, I think. But this was another world, all bets were off. I was trapped underneath the debris, able to see around me but unable to move. The pressure on my chest made it hard to breathe not to mention my boobs crushed by the impact. It was a bad idea to eschew the arming doublet.

"Attention! Prepare to engage!" Tamiwa shouted for the other guards. "Everyone, don't panic! The rats can sense your fear!"

Two things came to mind. Rats were scavengers, they would only strike a bigger target if they thought they would win easily. And the rat traps I commissioned were grossly undersized. No, seriously, where that throng of rats got food to grow this big and numerous?

Dime cried and dove at the mass of rats. The guards waved their blades threateningly, making the rats flinch. Half of the bystanders ran away, the other half shouted threateningly. The oxen were agitated. I could feel the chittering of the rat horde in my mind. Their hunger. Their fear. It threatened to overwhelm me.

The rats that were underneath the house pinning me down decided it was safe to get out. They ran and crawled over me.

I screamed, my mind melting from the panic. I had nothing against the rodents but to have them walk all over me was too much. "STOP!" I crouched and shouted.

The squeaking and crawling stopped. I could hear silence. At least in my mind, because the humans were still fighting the now immobile. I felt stings of empathic pain as some rats were killed by Dime or the guards. I opened my eyes and gasped at what I saw around me. The horde of rats was frozen in place, staring at me. Hundreds of black eyes. I trembled but it was not time to show weakness. I felt that if my mind wavered, they would all charge at me.

And I was done with feeding monsters at the water goblins deep in the mines.

I felt my power attempting to repair myself. The cracked ribs were moving back in place and I needed room for that. The soft organs damaged from the impact restored themselves and I could finally think straight. I used Decompose to move the silicon away from me. What was left was crumbs, fibers, and biomass from the daub. I tried to ignore that it was dung but I couldn't move carbon on such a large scale or it would ruin my clothes. The sturdy and indestructible metal bikini armor slowly became more and more enticing.

And my royal blue mail got scratches! Why hadn't Brandon returned already? And what was Nanna going to ask as her favor? Would Rubati and Banunu be on friendly terms with me? Why did I volunteer to do this shitty job? I lost another dress. Cloe was going to kill me. Maybe I shouldn't wear couture to work.

I didn't move. After I had enough room for myself under the debris, I focused on controlling the rats. They all should die. Several minutes went by and the critters I was sensing all but vanished. There were a few hidden in the warrens, probably small immobile and defenseless pups.

"Milady, are you alive?" One of the guards asked.

I had half the mind of siccing the animals on him. What kind of question was that? Shouldn't he ask if I was okay if I was hurt, or how I was feeling? No, his concern was if I was already dead. Oh, how that irritated me. Pinned under debris? Fine. Crawled over by filthy rodents? Fine. I'm an outdoorswoman after all. But to cross me out as dead already?

"State your name and rank, soldier!" I shouted back.

The coward fled. I guess he got his confirmation. But he was doomed. I heard his voice and my memory boon would make sure I could remember it.

Could I command these rodents? I knew I wasn't bound to them like I was with Penny and Dime. Let's start with something easy. I gave them the mental image of the pups in the warrens, that they should take them out because the area was no longer safe. Something that appealed to their instincts should be easy. When I relaxed my hold on them, some of the rats tried to flee the slaughter and some of them did go back to the tunnels to get the pups.

This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

Funny how none of the guards came to rescue me yet. I could've dug myself out but I was focusing on the rats. Keeping them in check used more mental focus than I liked. After all the rats came out and were slaughtered, I Decomposed the organic debris pinning me, going slowly as to avoid further damage to my clothes. Cellulose.

I might have better luck with the silk as the fibers won't be plant-based. What was I thinking? Putting silk dresses in the way of harm? No way.

I had doubts if rodents were considered food but that was dispelled once I looked around. The guards were now struggling to keep the bystanders from collecting the dead rats.

I dusted myself, pushing the silicon away. I left the organic matter. Then I shouted.

"All guards form up! No civilians will take the rats. Gather the corpses and load them in the wagon! All of you, on my authority as a minister, back off!"

I had no problem giving the rats to the people, but I knew they would litter everything. Some of the bystanders were visibly angry but when someone crawls out of a collapsed building barking orders like it was nothing, they paused to listen. I approached with my olive branch.

"Who among you are good with butchering and willing to enter my employ?" Some people raised their hands. I looked around and, as biased as I was, selected the females.

"We know how to skin the rats, milady. We can also prepare the pelts," a middle-aged lady told me.

"Good. How many rats can you butcher in a day?" I asked.

"Five to ten an hour, milady," She answered with a grin.

I had no idea how many dead rats were in there but twenty women seemed enough. I asked just to make sure. "How many people do you need to process all these animals?"

"Thirty, forty. We will need a working space and tools."

"Wages?"

"One copper mina per person per day. To oversee them, I would beg the lady to pay me one silver shekel. I guarantee you'll profit from the sale of the meat."

The copper mina per day was the standard laborer wage. The silver shekel, however, was pushing it. It was the same I paid Aristunn and I was expecting him to die for me. I checked the time, we were approaching noon. I had cleaned a third of the block.

I smiled at her and started the negotiations. "What is your name?"

" I am called Zar-Kiira, milady." She pulled the 'i's' out. It was a Latin 'i' like in 'dimple' and not the English 'I'.

"Okay, Zar-Kiira, could you find me at least forty women, preferably young unmarried girls. Working hours are from sunrise to sunset. I will offer everyone in my employ one meal a day, at noon. One copper mina per person as a daily wage, paid every seventh day. You will oversee them, but I'll pay you only two copper mina. If your crew can finish the rodents here before nightfall, I'll give you a bonus of two copper mina and a bonus of two copper shekels plus the meat of two rats to each person. I will make your tools now, you will work here.

I had an ulterior motive to choose women and ask specifically for unmarried girls. If they entered my employ, they would be exempted from the "bridal market", colloquially known as city-wide-forced-prostitution-to-save-Nephew's-ass. I tried for days to come to terms with their customs and consider it as just some weird religious practice but I couldn't.

"That is acceptable, milady. I'll assemble your crew now."

I felt I could negotiate it further down but to me, it was fine. The bribes I confiscated from the scribes alone could pay these wages for three years. That calculation showed me I could indeed fund an army with what I carried on my handbag.

"Do that," I dismissed her and went to make some furniture and tools.

The area was drenched in rat blood. The guards' boots mixed the fluids with the exposed dirt, making a reddish-brown mud. I felt my stomach churn. Well, if I was the wielder of the power of recycling, let's turn the situation around. I addressed the crowd one more time.

"I want to hire eight strong men as porters. Any candidates?"

To keep things short, I hired sixteen of them to stop them from fighting. They were the new barrel porters, freeing the guards to do their job. I sent some of these new hires to buy supplies, like salt to treat the meat and the pelts. It seems it is good to make fine parchment. Since these were giant rats, it might be true.

The first task was to get rid of the - literally - bloody mud. I created a rough aluminum pipe that ended in a hook bending over the lip of the to pour the water and awkwardly moved around, using my power to drain the water from the mud and pump it up the pipe. With my hand opened wide, I could cover a thirty-centimeter wide path. It was awkward to walk around with my hand next to the ground but I was nimble enough to pull it. As to how the water moved up the pipe, I could push the water up the pipe the length of my elbow and five centimeters after that before it left my influence but as I gathered more water, I could push it further up the pipe. It was slow but did the job. We filled five wooden barrels with water over the course of more than an hour.

"Praised be Tarhun," One of the barrel porters exulted. "Such is the power of the holy maiden, to draw the purest water I've ever seen out of the bloody mud. Can I drink from it?"

I could do without the religious fanaticism but the praise ruffled my figurative feathers. I forced to keep it contained but I knew I was smiling. "Don't dip your hands in the water. I'll get it for you."

After I created a solid platform to hold the water barrels, I prepared one of them as drinking water. I added small amounts of calcium carbonate, table salt, magnesium chloride, and glucose. Just a few pinches of each to mineralize the 100% pure water. Drinking it raw would deplete their electrolytes and given the quality of their nutrition. After I checked the hardness and quality of the water myself, I made an aluminum cup and ladle, attaching both to the barrel with strings. This way there would be no contamination of the water. I hoped.

While the people eagerly drained the "holy" water barrel, I hid from my embarrassment making aluminum shovels and silicon boxes. And I ordered my porters to shovel the dry, blood-caked dirt into silicon crates. It would become an excellent fertilizer. With part of the block cleared, I made workbenches out of aluminum-covered silicon and a mold of my survival knife from the carbon balls left around. Pouring aluminum in the molds and sharpening them with the Dremel made them useable. I also made some hatchets copying my own Earth-made tool so the men could harvest firewood from the debris. I had no hope of getting useable structural wood out of the debris it was probably the best. I had no way to know if there was some fatal fracture.

We resumed work, crews of workers shoveling the bloodmeal-infused earth into the boxes, another chopping the wood, and a third crew following me as I Decomposed the ruined buildings and retrieved the materials. It was past noon when the women started to butcher the rats. Each workbench had some silicon buckets next to them to separate the unedible entrails and bones. Boiling vats to treat the pelt and another bucket for the removed fur and bits of fat and meat scraped from the pelt.

The afternoon went by without any other major events, the women dismantling the rats and me demolishing the buildings, now careful to avoid another collapse. I was partially successful if success meant not getting anyone trapped under the debris again. I learned that provoking a controlled collapse of the condemned structures was better than tempting Lady Luck. Yay for me? Wagons went back to base when fully loaded, returned empty. Silicon was the go-to material for containers when the ones I brought proved to be too few. The ladies skinned the rats and cleaned the hides, the men helped separate and clear the debris.

"Milady, can I ask you something?" One of the men carrying the barrels and crates behind me spoke when I paused after finishing one of the houses. I faced him and nodded. "This metal, what is it?"

He was pointing at the silicon blobs I was leaving behind. "That's silicon. It is one of the materials that dirt is made of. What about it?"

"I saw the boxes, tables, and chairs you made. Could it be used for something else?"

"Not really. It can't be smelted or sharpened and the other uses require techniques we don't have here."

He paused to think about what I was saying before speaking again. "I've seen it is quite brittle for a metal. But it seems hard. Couldn't we use it for building? I thought you could make bricks with it. It seems to be no worse than one of the old mud bricks."

I opened my mouth to answer but closed it right away. "Utuaa, did I say your name right?" He nodded. "Do you know any brickworks nearby? You seem familiar with them."

"Aye, milady. My cousin used to own a brick factory near the river but he fled south," He lowered his head, sadness in his eyes as he recalled his cousin's fate. "Heard nobody returned from that direction or got through the blockade by the invaders."

I had heard the same from the horse's mouth. The renewed outrage for the slaughter of civilians helped erase some of the guilt that was creeping back to the front of my mind lately.

"Tomorrow I'll bring a scribe here. Fetch me some mud bricks and we can do some tests. If what you suggested is true, this will be very useful."

We resumed work but soon the first tones of orange dyed the few clouds in the sky, signaling the end of a workday. The moonless nights forced everyone to stay indoors. I paid everyone their goal bonuses. The meat from two rats and the coins. Their wages would be paid weekly, eight days from now.

"Thank you, everyone. I expect all of you back here tomorrow morning, one hand after sunrise. We will work on other city blocks. Maybe catch more rats. We shall see. You now work for the minister of agriculture and development. Don't abuse the borrowed authority though and I see you tomorrow, I guess? You are dismissed for today."

"Thank you, milady," Zar-Kiira spoke for the group.

They were smiling, each one with their packed meat under the arm. I had a pile of clean pelts for curing and a bag of rat meat in storage. I guess meat was meat, even if it was a rodent's. A female rat could birth thousands of pups a year. Maybe rats could be cultivated as a food source? I pinned the repulsive idea for later. It was time to go back home. I mounted Penny and returned along with the last wagons. The rat entrails and bones were in sealed boxes as the stench was unbearable.

The block was cleared and we learned valuable lessons that would help us clear the other blocks even faster. If the silicon brick idea worked, I would convert one of the reclaimed blocks into the new ministry HQ. But that was a task for another day.

Back in my room, I booted the laptop and browsed. I had the data for the compressed earth blocks, CEBs, in my engineering books, as it was one of the subjects we studied in "ENG 402 - Understanding Third World Development Problems". A CEB should have a compressive strength of 2 to 3 MPa. Pure silicon ranged from 3 to 3.6 MPa. But if we allowed the silicon bricks to cure for a few days exposed to air, they should grow a layer of silicon dioxide. A hundred Angstroms thick. Useless except to protect the silicon underneath from water.

I updated my journal entries, browsed a few more random world pictures but found nothing of interest, and went to sleep.