Read the following passage and questions, then choose the right answer from options, the answer should be one of A, B, C, D.

<passage>:
He wished Trader Tom would return and extract some higher price from Or to get even more for simply repossessing the kit. But Trader Tom would not be back. He came this way only once. Manet thumbed through the manual in mechanical frustration. As he did so, the solid piece of the last section parted sheet by sheet. Manet just didn't know when to stop! William Manet was alone. In the beginning, he had seen many advantages to being alone. It would give him an unprecedented opportunity to once and for all correlate Every lonely man tries to make friends. ill-matched parts left in the box took a new shape in his mind and under his fingers.... Manet gave one final spurt from the flesh-sprayer and stood back. Victor leaped back into the Lifo kit and did a jig on one of the flesh-sprayers. As the device twisted as handily as good intentions, Manet realized that it was not a flesh-sprayer but the Modifier. "It's finished!" were Victor's first words. "It's done!" Manet stared at the tiny wreck. "To say the least." his arms and legs and sandpapered his self-pity to a fine sensitivity. No one on Earth was as lonely as William Manet, and even William Manet Victor stepped out of the oblong box. "There is something you should Manet was Atmosphere Seeder Station 131-47's own human. "No?" "No. You have made yourself an enemy." Manet felt nothing more at this information than an esthetic pleasure at the symmetry of the situation. understand. I am different from the others." "What's so bad about that?" Manet asked with some interest. wonderful opportunities. It gave William Manet an opportunity to think he saw a spaceship making a tailfirst landing on the table of the desert, its tail burning as bright as envy. Manet suspected hallucination, but in an existence with all the pallid dispassion of a requited love he was happy to welcome dementia. Sometimes he even manufactured it. Sometimes he would run through the making so much stall flooring of him. He ran until he dropped with a kind of climaxing release of terror. So Manet put on the pressure suit he had been given because he would Manet's eyes wondered down to heavy water tumbler full of rich, amber whiskey full of sparks from the hearth. He stirred himself in the comfortingly warm leather chair. "No, no, I'm uselessness, your constant unrelenting sterility of purpose. How's that for boredom, for passiveness?" "That's what I'm trying to tell you," Manet said irritably, his social choose it to be, so long as you're with Trader Tom. 'Service,' that's "Trader Tom? Service?" manners rusty. "I won't be bored. You will see to that. It's your purpose. You'll be a challenge, an obstacle, a source of triumph every exactly. Trader Tom Service—Serving "Ah," Trader Tom said, cautionary. He moved nearer the fire and warmed Trader Tom Credit Card." "And I could buy anything that I wanted with it?" Manet demanded. "That's absurd. I'd never be able to pay for it." "That's it precisely!" Trader Tom said with enthusiasm. "You Trader Tom demonstrated his peculiar shrug. "All businesses operate on a certain margin of risk. That is our worry." Manet finished the mellow whiskey and looked into the glass. It seemed am a trader—Trader Tom. I trade with many parties. There are, for representation. Come, tell me what you want." Manet gave in to it. "I want to be not alone," he said. "Of course," Trader Tom replied, "I suspected. It is not so unusual, you know. Sign here. And here. Two copies. This is yours. Thank you so much." Manet handed back the pen and stared at the laminated card in his hand. When he looked up from the card, Manet saw the box. Trader Tom was "It is commercialized," Trader Tom admitted with no little chagrin. charges." "You never know the cost. Only your executor knows that. It's the Trader Tom plan." "There are no guarantees," Trader Tom admitted. "But I've never had any complaints yet." "Suppose I'm the first?" Manet suggested reasonably. "You won't be," Trader Tom said. "I won't pass this way again." Manet didn't open the box. He let it fade quietly in the filtered but still brilliant sunlight near a transparent wall. Manet puttered around the spawning monster, trying to brush the copper taste of the station out of his mouth in the mornings, talking to himself, winking at Annie Oakley, and waiting to go mad. Finally, Manet woke up one morning. He lay in the sheets of his bunk, suppressing the urge to go wash his hands, and came at last to the conclusion that, after all the delay, he was mad. .... Then The Final Model . Manet tried to flip past this Manet flipped back to page one. First find the Modifier "Tie game," Manet said. Cheerfulness was a personality trait Manet had thumbed out for him. Manet knew it all. He had heard it all before. Manet had been interested in the Fabulous Forties—Lt. "Hoot" Gibson, Manet's only consolidation was that Ronald's tastes were lower than his Ronald pinwheeled to the floor. He lifted his bruised head from the deck and worked his reddened mouth. "Had enough?" he asked Manet. "No." "Okay. Anything you want, William, old conquerer." Manet scrunched up inside himself in impotent fury. a fist fight to avoid trouble between them. He would do anything Manet wanted him to do. He was so utterly damned stupid. Manet's eyes orbitted towards the checkerboard. But if he were so much more stupid than he, Manet, why was it that their checker games always ended in a tie? for a high-speed information and entertainment transmission. The buzzer-flasher activated in the solarium at the same time. Manet lay stretched out on his back, naked, in front of the transparent wall. By rolling his eyes back in his head, Manet could see over a hedge of Manet padded on down the hall. He had, he recalled, shoved Ronald in there on Lincoln's Birthday, a minor ironic twist he appreciated quietly. He had been waiting in vain for Ronald to run down ever since. It irritated Manet. He never understood how the British had got the Manet selected the ripple-finished gray-covered manual from the hodgepodge, and thought: eighteen years. Perhaps I should have begun here, he told himself. But I really don't less equipped with Manet's own store of information, than Ronald. Ronald's cries grew louder as Manet marched Veronica through the corridor. through sepulchrally. "Shut up!" Manet yelled. The voice dwindled stubbornly, then cut off. A silence with a whisper of metallic ring to it. Ronald didn't say anything to Manet. But he looked offended. Manet slammed the hatch in disgust. Manet walked carefully down the corridor, watching streamers of his reflection corkscrewing into the curved walls. He had to walk carefully, else the artery would roll up tight and squash him. But he Manet giggled. "What? What was that? Do you suggest that I take you back after you've been behind a locked door with my best friend?" He went down the corridor, giggling. He giggled and thought: This will never do. diligently, Manet concluded that there weren't enough parts left in the box to go around.

<question>:
What is the relationship like between Trader Tom and Manet?

<options>:
A Tom deals goods that Manet is interested in, and they become radio companions
B Tom deals goods that Manet is interested in, but they don’t know each other any deeper than this
C Tom deals goods that Manet is uninterested in, wishing him to leave
D Tom is imagined by Manet as he loses his mind

<answer>:

B