Problems

The deal with the prison administration became the turning point in Giers' calm prison life. Problems began when fellow inmates started being transferred to maximum security, given longer sentences, punished, etc. The prisoners quickly figured out what was going on, which specific information was being leaked, and in whose presence everything had been said.

The first to learn that everything had been exposed and that Giers was about to face retribution was Zhdan. He warned Valera in advance but made it clear he wouldn’t be able to help and wouldn’t put himself at risk. Now, everyone was on their own.

The administration had promised Giers protection when he asked what would happen if everything was exposed. He had anticipated such a turn of events and was confident that they would help him. They didn’t.

Giers went directly to the warden, to whom he had previously provided all the necessary information, and from whom he had personally heard reassuring words that there was nothing to fear, that protection would be provided.

In the worst-case scenario, the warden had promised to give Giers a separate cell with great conditions, where other prisoners would not have access to him.

But when the time came, and Giers demanded the promised cell and protection, the warden replied that the prison was not a hotel, and wherever they had placed him, that’s where he would stay.

No one was interested in putting any effort into saving a piece of used material. Giers was no longer useful. His future was no longer the warden’s problem.

The warden ended his speech with the words, "Nobody likes traitors," took out a pack of SPARTA cigarettes, and casually lit one. He liked to brag about the price and rarity of that brand of cigarettes, often mentioning in front of his subordinates that they were brought to him from the Czech Republic, and it was impossible to buy them locally.

Then he told Giers to return to his cell.

Valera had to quickly come up with a solution to the problem. He pretended to feel sick when passing by the mirror on his way out of the warden’s office and fell, shattering the mirror. This was done to get a shard.

He knew that even if he hurt himself, no one would send him to the medical unit. No one cared about Giers' life or health because no one was waiting for him on the outside, and no one cared about his existence.

The medical unit was just a one-day thing, and he'd still have to return to the colony later. He needed to get transferred to maximum security, anywhere, where he could start over and be somewhere no one knew him.

Right after Giers got the shard, he seriously injured Zhdan, the first person he ran into. Valera had expected that Zhdan would immediately rat him out, leading to isolation from the other prisoners in some kind of solitary confinement, and later a transfer to maximum security.

But the plan didn’t work. Zhdan didn’t betray Giers and pretended not to remember who had hurt him.
The punishment was public. Some watched with joy and curiosity, while others were forced to watch. They twisted Giers' arms behind his back to prevent him from resisting, dislocated his left forearm, beat him badly, and then forced alcohol down his throat.

When it was over, they dragged him to the stairwell, where the janitors usually dumped trash before it was taken out, and left him there. They didn’t push him; they just let him try to go down the stairs on his own, but in his state, it was obvious he wouldn’t manage. Giers took a few steps, stumbled on the stairs, and then fell straight into the trash bags.

That’s where they left him.

It looked as if he were just very drunk. He smelled of alcohol, and since they hadn’t beaten his face or exposed parts of his body, there were no visible signs of abuse.

Giers was indeed drunk, but even in that state, he knew exactly what kind of position he was in. It wasn’t about his future or his role in the prison hierarchy, but about what would happen when they found him here—drunk, in the trash, obviously having fallen down the stairs due to tripping over his own feet. This wasn’t an image that would be useful to him.

He didn’t feel disgust or pity for himself, nor was he terrified. He cried and gasped for air simply because it was a natural bodily reaction to pain. He wasn’t broken or defeated. The only thing burning in his mind was a thirst for revenge. Valery was furious.