Armhianthia by Arbhin Cioc (cat reading book .txt) 📖

Escapes.

“The court holds you responsible for the loss of money for the company and the damage done to the face of the company to the outside world.” The hammer fell like in slow-motion.
“Your punishments will be determined in two weeks from now.”
Parce felt an arm going over his shoulders. He took a glance to the side and saw his wife reaching over the woodpanel that divides the audience with the real court. Her face was strong and supportive, but in her eyes he saw tears. He nodded to her. Before long he already knew that he wasn’t going to get away with it.
His feet hurt. His right foot was throbbing like it tried to knock on the insides of his boots. As he looked down, the pain went from throbbing, to be stabbed with knifes. Invisible knifes, stabbing his foot.

The pain in his feet woke Parce. He had lost track of time, days and night were automaticly solved in the capsule, like it seems earth. But his mind had lost track of counting the days. Now his eyes, dazed with tears, tried to take in the cabin. But his focus darted back to his foot. His right foot was back to throbbing again. The feeling of knifes were gone. With care he took his leg in one arm, with the other hand, he carefully removed the bandage. The bandage was once fully white, now it had the colour of some spilled wine, on the outside several spots, but the more he saw the inside of the bandage, the bigger the stains. He needed to clean the bandage, for this one was getting dirty.
Finally he got the bandage wrapped off his foot. It made him think it took ages to get it off. With care he took the wounds of his foot in examination. The wounds weren’t large. Some tiny pin holes, like someone had tried to use acupuncture needles on his foot. But these wounds didn’t seem to heal. First he used some tape, to cover the wounds. But after some days, the wounds didn’t seem to heal. He had tried some medical stuff that was in the kitchen cabin, but those didn’t seem to have any effect. As much as he tried to clot the blood, it didn’t seem to work. After the tape, he went to bandaging the foot. At first one winding, taped to secure it to the foot, however not even a day later the cabin floor had signs of blood smears everywhere he had walked. Now the bandage was five windings thick, or more, he lost count of how thick he taped it in now.
Not long after the last winding went off his foot, he saw the first drops appear from the pinholes. The edges of each pinhole were now better visible, for the skin around it, went to a strange purple colour.
He let go of his foot and stepped to the floor. It felt a bit strange to feel his foot on the cold floor again. But no sooner had he put his foot on the floor, or the pain went from his foot straight to his head again. Like every pinhole, was not in his foot , but now inside his brain. He tried slowly to stand up again and tried some weight on his foot. It still hold. Even tho the energy put more needles in his brains, he put his other foot outside the bed. With two hands still on the bed, he tried to stand up. Only after being sure his feet would hold his weight, he pushed himself off the bed. Still uncomfortable, he tried some steps. On the screen he saw the destination again, and in the corner some red flashes, indicating earth-messages had arrived again. He scheduled inside his head, to go find a new bandage for his foot first and then come up again to read and reply the posts.
He stumbled to the man-hole laid his hand on the edge of the opening, to give support. He turned to put his foot on the first step, but in the action, he forgot which foot to use first. Too late he realized that he put all his body weight on the wrong foot. Then all things came in one moment. With a shock on his face he looked down, to see blood pour out of the pinholes, making the whole step one slippery bloody surface, felt the pain welt up again. Like a brick it hit him on the head. He felt his hand loose grip of the edge of the portal and then there was nothing he could do. With one hand, he tried to find one of the steps but he only felt air, looking down he saw the bottom coming towards him very rapidly, the air flowed pass his face. Then everything went dark.

Several moments later he woke up again. His whole body was in pain. First he thought every bone in his body would have been broken, after such fall. But moving his arm, he felt it was still whole. And his head was too. Some bruises and he might have an concussion with it. Slowly he lifted himself back up again. His pants was stained with blood, from his feet. And even so, was the floor. He reached an arm to find support from one of the steps of the stairway. After finding it again, he lifted himself up. He felt his muscles burning with the effort, most probably bruised from the fall, they got another strain. He hoisted himself back to his feet, then crawled slowly up. He didn’t feel the pain anymore. Every other part in his body was covered with pain from the fall, dimming the pain in his feet.
Step by step he hoisted himself up, only after ages reaching the kitchen cabin. He pushed himself up, just enough
His face was covered with sweat and his vision blurred from the effort of getting himself this far.
Over his head, he saw the box with first aid hanging at the wall. He reached up to with his hand, trying to reach it, but he was inches off.
He felt his vision blur from the effort. Something was wrong in his body. The fall was bad, he knew that much. But not so bad, that he lost so much power in his body.
The pinholes in his right foot were turned deeper purple. His entire foot wasn’t looking healthy. All color from his skin there, was gone. Like it was starving. He thought it with a shock, the grass was poisoned. It had put something in his body, that was poisoning him and he had no idea how to find what poison it was. If it was any poison that was custom at earth at all. He had to get that first aid kit. He had to bind off his foot.
With new effort he reached up for the box, lifting himself a little more. With his fingertips he felt the box and with more effort he felt his fingers slight over its cover. At some point he felt grip, his fingers cornered over the edge of the box. He pulled all his weight on the box, trying to pry it off the wall. A new wave of blackness covered his brains. He felt his eyes close and in the same time he felt his fingertips slight back over the edge. He felt lost. If he couldn’t reach it, he couldn’t heal and steer the ship. He might die. With renewed effort he strained every muscle and pulled his full weight on the box. Finally he heard the box crack, the cover broke in two. His fingers slipped off the lit, that was now torn in two, he felt the broken edges open his fingers. Over his face he felt the inside of the kit fall down. Relieved of his achievements, he felt tears stream over his cheeks. For a moment he let his hands rest in his lap. He laid his head against the wall till his vision was back again and then looked down to see what the damage was. His fingers were in a bad shape, plastic splinters still stuck in it. With trembling fingers he tore the splinters out and then looked at his lap, for what the first aid box had spilled.
He took some tape, to fix his fingers, two glances later he saw a cloth next to him, useful for when someone broke an arm. He took the cloth from the ground and with his other hand he gripped his right leg. With effort he laid his right leg over his left, than with both hands, he strongly binds off his right leg just over the foot. Wrapping the foot with the cloth first, then tying a knot over the ankle tight enough to slow down blood stream.
With dazed eyes he looks at his achievements then relaxed. With tired hands, he strokes the remains of the box off his legs. He had to get back up again to the control cabin and his bed. He waited some moments, to get some energy, then pulled himself up. One hand on the deck, another hand clamped around one of the steps, he heaved himself up on his feet, almost like dangling on his arms, his left leg barely holding support, his right leg felt odd and useless. With effort he pulled his right foot on the support of the stairs and put some weight on his left leg. More dragging then climbing, he pulled himself up, to the steering cabin. With hands and feet crawling over the floor he tried to reach the screen. He had to send those messages back to earth. But first he had to sit down.
The climb up on the stairs had taken his tolls, his arms felt like on fire and his temples were beating like a drum. Releasing the weight off his arms, he laid his body down on the floor. His head on the cold floor felt so wonderful, like he had pulled his head in a waterpool, down at earth. He could remember a time where he had taken this girl out for a walk. A warm day it had been and to refresh he had pulled his head into the pool.
With a shock he came back to reality. He was not on earth, he was inside a space vessel, traveling with high speed away from earth and destined to a planet, which was supposed to be able to have life.
He glanced up at the big screen. The black darkness outside the vessel was still the same, star positions were changed a bit. He tensed his muscles and felt the sting of his arms. He didn’t even feel the pains in his feet. Crawling bit by bit to his chair, he finally reached the seat.
He made himself sit upright against the desk. Then took the chair in his both hands, strained himself and with all effort in his body, he heaved himself into the seat. Closed the belts and fell back into empty darkness.
He had used so much of his energy, that he could not do anything more. His whole body was in pain, the poison of the grasses were consuming his body and inside his skull some little creatures were trying to hammer their way out.
After some minutes of rest, he ran his hands over the buttons again and send the messages back to home. The routine was still in his mind. His arms and fingers followed the imprinted routine as they always did. Inside his head though, his mind didn’t