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

<passage>:
Manet thumbed through the manual in mechanical frustration. As he did Manet just didn't know when to stop! William Manet was alone. teaching himself classes in philosophy consisting of interminable Manet gave one final spurt from the flesh-sprayer and stood back. Manet stepped forward, lifted the model's left eyelid, tweaked his nose. 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." No one on Earth was as lonely as William Manet, and even William Manet Manet was Atmosphere Seeder Station 131-47's own human. All Manet had to do was sit in the beating aluminum heart in the middle Manet felt nothing more at this information than an esthetic pleasure my function to use everything I possibly can against you." "When do you start?" isolate themselves in a useless job. They got, instead, William Manet "What's so bad about that?" Manet asked with some interest. "I've finished. I've done my worst. I have destroyed the Modifier." change. You'll get older, and we'll never change. You'll lose your interest in New York swing and jet combat and Daniel Boone, and we'll never change. We don't change and you can't change us for others. I've made the worst thing happen to you that can happen to any man. I've Manet suspected hallucination, but in an existence with all the pallid So Manet put on the pressure suit he had been given because he would know. You're too human, too like me. The one thing a man can't accept is a passive state, a state of uselessness. Not if he can possibly avoid it. Something has to be happening to him. He has to be happening to something. You didn't kill me because then you would have nothing left to do. You'll never kill me." "Of course not!" Victor stormed. "Fundamental safety cut-off!" "Rationalization. You don't Manet's eyes wondered down to heavy water tumbler full of rich, amber want fine ." He let the word any new friends. You'll have me to constantly remind you of your 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 hang there for examination. "Pardon me, but could you tell me just what "Yes! That's it exactly. It's me Manet took the tumbler in both hands and drank. It was good whiskey, Ask anyone on the street. Businessmen are reactionary even beyond the capitalistic system. Money is a fiction that exists mostly on paper. "I don't believe you," Manet stated flatly. His conversation had grown "And I could buy anything that I wanted with it?" Manet demanded. never pay for it. Charges are merely deducted from your estate ." "But I may leave no estate!" Trader Tom demonstrated his peculiar shrug. "All businesses operate on Manet finished the mellow whiskey and looked into the glass. It seemed "You know." "I know? All right, I know. You don't have it for sale." "Old chap, understand if you please that I do not only Manet gave in to it. "I want to be not alone," he said. 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 "What's the cost?" Manet asked. "Before I accept it, I have to know the Manet didn't open the box. He let it fade quietly in the filtered but Manet puttered around the spawning monster, trying to brush the copper Finally, Manet woke up one morning. He lay in the sheets of his bunk, crumbled as easily as ideals. But Manet was old enough to remember the Manet opened the book and, turning one blank page, found the title . Manet tried to flip past this Manet flipped back to page one. vital to your entire was nothing that looked like a chart inside. He retrieved the lid and looked at its inside. Nothing. He tipped the box and looked at its outside. Not a thing. There was always something missing from kits. Maybe even the Modifier Uselessly. "Tie game," Ronald said. Cheerfulness was a personality trait Manet had thumbed out for him. Cheerful. Submissive. Co-operative. Manet had selected these factors in Intelligence was one of the factors Manet had punched to suppress. any more than Manet, but he could (and did) know less. He had seen to Manet knew it all. He had heard it all before. ad nauseum . What a narrow band of interests! With the whole universe to explore in thought and concept, why did he have to be trapped with such an unoriginal Manet had been interested in the Fabulous Forties—Lt. "Hoot" Gibson, Dime Sports had been nothing but a cheap yellow rag and, why, Sewanee Review Manet's only consolidation was that Ronald's tastes were lower than his "Ronald," Manet said, "you are a terrific jerk." Manet blocked it deftly and threw a right cross. Manet stepped inside the swing and lifted an uppercut to the ledge of "Had enough?" he asked Manet. Manet dropped his fists to his sides and turned away. "Yes." "No." "Okay. Anything you want, William, old conquerer." Manet scrunched up inside himself in impotent fury. Manet's eyes orbitted towards the checkerboard. But if he were so much more stupid than he, Manet, why was it that Manet lay stretched out on his back, naked, in front of the transparent 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 It irritated Manet. He never understood how the British had got the Finally, Manet went back to the solarium and dragged the big box out. nothing whatsoever. 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 have as much interest in that sort of thing as the earthier types. Manet opened the book to the chapter headed: Veronica crept up behind Manet and slithered her hands up his back and life." "I know." Manet folded his arms stoically and added: "Please don't talk." Manet elbowed Veronica away in a gentlemanly fashion. "I'm not a jet pilot," Manet said. "There are no jet pilots. There even before the last of the jet pilots." "Don't be silly," she snapped. "If it were over, I'd know about it, wouldn't I?" less equipped with Manet's own store of information, than Ronald. Ronald's cries grew louder as Manet marched Veronica through the "Shut up!" Manet yelled. A silence with a whisper of metallic ring to it. Why hadn't he thought of that before? Maybe because he secretly took Manet threw back the bolt and wheeled back the hatch. Ronald looked just the same as had when Manet had seen him last. His Ronald didn't say anything to Manet. "You," Manet said to Veronica with a shove in the small of the back, "Do you know what I'm going to do with you?" Manet demanded. "I'm going forever! Now what do you think about that?" "If you think it's the right Manet slammed the hatch in disgust. Manet walked carefully down the corridor, watching streamers of Manet giggled. "What? What was that? Do you suggest that I take you diligently, Manet concluded that there weren't enough parts left in the

<question>:
What did Manet do at his job?

<options>:
A Take measurements of the stars, moons, and Earth
B Control the atmosphere seeder station
C Control the gimcrack
D Nothing

<answer>:

D