The bedroom was warm. Powered by the fortress's fusion reactor, the boiler system pumped hot water through a complex network of internal piping, distributing it to every supply station, military barracks, and other buildings. The heat radiated through aluminum panels, ensuring a springlike warmth throughout the interior spaces at all times.
As for the mobile command center, barracks, engineering stations, and other temporary military structures that could lift off the ground using thrusters, they relied on convection heaters for warmth.
By the time Augustus was recounting the story of Cinderella, Lisa Cassidy had already drifted into a deep sleep. Her long eyelashes fluttered gently, and her chest rose and fell with each breath.
Whenever her withdrawal symptoms kicked in, Lisa would often vomit uncontrollably. That's why she wore a white, long-sleeved shirt that was easy to change and wash. The shirt was thin, and through it, Augustus could see the black lace trim of her undergarments.
Her shorts were only 32 cm long, leaving her fair, rounded thighs exposed. Her feet were covered in nude-colored stockings.
Augustus sat by the bed for a while before averting his gaze. He admitted to himself that Lisa's body was indeed quite alluring, and he didn't feel ashamed about acknowledging his own desire.
After all, before crossing over to this world, he had been the kind of guy who would post things like 'send lewds' or 'my friend wants to see some pics' in chat groups.
Sliding the book he'd been holding into the bookshelf beside him, Augustus then unfastened the restraint straps securing Lisa and tucked another blanket over her. After making sure every corner of the blanket was neatly arranged, he turned off the light, closed the bedroom door, and left contentedly.
Back in his own room, Augustus turned on his PIG handheld notebook computer and began writing the weekly letter he would send back to Korhal.
As usual, his letter to his younger sister Dorothy included a few amusing anecdotes and—without even realizing it—mentions of his own achievements, in order to maintain the shining image she held of him.
Dorothy often used her replies to complain about the school's rules, her personal troubles, and the annoying suitors who kept bothering her. Every time Augustus read about one of those suitors, an inexplicable sense of dread would seize him.
So, aside from offering comfort and encouragement, Augustus always dedicated a good portion of his letter to lambasting the inherent flaws of men in general.
In his letter to his mother, Augustus brought up his older brother Arcturus and said a few kind things on his behalf. He wrote that Arcturus Mengsk was, in truth, a man of grand ideals—someone whose ambitions reached for the stars and beyond. He didn't mention a single word about his brother's desire to go into mining.
Augustus feared that if his father, Angus, ever found out, he'd have a stroke out of sheer rage.
He only briefly touched on his own military accomplishments, knowing that while his mother would feel proud of him, she'd also grow more anxious about the dangers behind those feats.
The remainder of the letter focused on the issue of family security. Augustus tried his best to urge his parents to take the matter seriously. From the Mengsk family's seaside villa, summer estate, and mountain castle to the Skytower in the city of Styrling, every property needed enhanced security to guard against infiltration.
At first, Augustus had harbored a bit of wishful thinking. But after reading the last letter his mother had sent him, he could no longer deny the reality—he was bound to be swept up in the Korhal independence incident. There was simply no way to convince his father otherwise.
After careful thought, Augustus resolved to make strategic use of the knowledge he had and plan ahead, doing everything within his power to protect his family. No one knew when those three Ghost operatives would arrive to take Angus's head and murder his mother and sister.
To ensure his father would take the threat seriously—and not dismiss it as a child's irrational fear or wild imagination—Augustus chose his words carefully. He even played the family card:
Mom, it's been five months since I came to Turaxis. I've grown used to seeing death. I've watched my comrades and brothers die right in front of me, completely powerless to stop it, able only to weep from grief.
On the graves of Polk's Pride, ten thousand crosses now stand. Ten thousand homeless souls wail over the city skies.
These past few days, I've been so anxious I can hardly sleep. When I see the bulldozers scooping up body after body, when I watch the flocks of crows circling in the dust-filled skies over Turaxis, I start to ponder the meaning of death.
Mom, revolution is always accompanied by schemes and deception—by persecution and assassination.
Angus believes that as long as the people of Korhal stand behind him, as long as his supporters gather around him, as long as he remains under the sunlight, the Federation's lapdogs won't dare make a move against him.
But if you ask me, no amount of caution can ever overestimate the despicable and malicious nature of your enemies.
The rulers of the Terran Federation have employed countless methods to eliminate their political rivals. Slander in the media is just one of their routine tactics. The Parliament of Tarsonis has sent special forces more than once to assassinate planetary supervisors from the Kel-Morian Combine, CEOs of massive mining corporations, and high-ranking union officials.
If Angus is truly set on starting a revolution, then he must consider this possibility. Even if he doesn't worry about himself, he should at least think of his wife and youngest daughter.
Mom, I worry for your safety. I fear losing you.
Mom, have mercy on your child, who's light-years away from home—please, raise high walls around the Mengsk estate, so I can finally sleep in peace.
Then Augustus included a very detailed proposal for a security system. For example, all outdated infrared sensors should be replaced immediately with high-sensitivity air vibration detectors capable of identifying cloaked units.
Underground, he proposed the construction of secure tunnels and panic rooms. These tunnels must lead directly to the landing pad, and the doors of the panic rooms must be strong enough to withstand a nuclear explosion—at the bare minimum.
The security team must receive professional anti-infiltration and counter-espionage training. They should be equipped with CMC power armor and the latest electromagnetic weapons. All personnel must be recruited from Umoja and—crucially—should be Umojan only.
…If the rest of Augustus's suggestions were at least somewhat understandable—assassination attempts on the Mengsk family had happened before, after all—then his demand to replace all firefighting equipment might have seemed completely baffling.
He insisted that all fire suppression gear be replaced with the newest models, except for one particular item: the stockpile of dry powder fire extinguishers. The extinguishing agent, he noted, should ideally be sticky.
Because he knew—Ghost operatives could cloak using refractive suits, and this was one of the simplest ways to deal with invisible threats. When you can't see them, then use something that reveals their outlines—fire extinguishers, flour, or barrels of paint all do the trick.
And these were just some of the ideas Augustus had come up with. For the more complex measures, he would need to return to Korhal and implement them himself.
At the end of the letter, Augustus told his mother that he had been applying for extended leave, but none of his requests had been approved.
However, he would be granted one week of vacation before Christmas. In mid-December, he would return to Korhal.
...
It was already 10 p.m., but Augustus felt no trace of sleepiness. He switched on his desk lamp and prepared to read.
Suddenly, his personal terminal rang. The caller ID showed Harnack.
"Augustus, something's wrong! Zander and Jim got snatched by gangsters tonight when they went out!"
"Calm down and tell me exactly what happened." Augustus closed his computer, frowning deeply as he tried to make sense of Harnack's words.
A few seconds later, Augustus stood up and walked toward his bedroom door, holding the terminal in one hand and grabbing his flat-brimmed hat and coat with the other. Dressed only in a shirt, he spoke while heading for the front door of his apartment.
Normally, the sight of bumbling Harnack next to the stern-faced Ward always reminded Augustus of a slapstick duo. But Harnack wasn't the type to prank-call him in the middle of the night. Only Josephine would do something like that.
"The Whitford refugee camp—we went to Howe Town to buy food for the refugees…"
The more Augustus told Harnack to calm down, the more agitated he became, to the point that he could no longer form coherent sentences.
"I'll explain…"
A new voice took over the call—it sounded like Tychus Findlay. The wind howling through the receiver suggested they were likely in some desolate, open area.
"Mengsk, here's what happened."
Tychus spoke quickly but clearly. His problem was that he tended to ramble—though thankfully, not as much as he did on the battlefield, where Augustus usually just muted him.
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