Novek was cruel. Not in the real world, not with real people, not out there. But in his room, with his doll, he was as cruel as a man who would kick a dog.
Novek worked fourteen hours some days, usually six days a week. At twenty he had gotten fed up with his life, fed up with his family, fed up with knowing there was nowhere to go but to work on the farm that everyone in his town worked on. Working for some faceless corporation planting some seeds to grow some weird plant that made some drug that the company men wouldn't even tell you what it did.
Novek did well in school, he could have been lots of things. On the ship they made fun of him for sitting in the corner reading books on his ComPad when they played pool or danced or fucked.
The people on the ship didn't like Earth born hicks. They smelled weird and they talked weird and they were always poor. Only poor people left Earth. If you were rich you lived in cities in the clouds and took vacations in exotic places like Heaven Hotels on Io or luxury orbital stations above Venus.