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 would have to take parts from Ronald or Veronica in order to make any one of the others. And he could not do that without the Modifier. Manet thumbed through the manual in mechanical frustration. As he did Manet just didn't know when to stop! William Manet was alone. 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 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 isolate themselves in a useless job. They got, instead, William Manet "What's so bad about that?" Manet asked with some interest. "You'll have Veronica and Ronald and me forever now. We'll never 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 "I've finished. I've done my worst. I have destroyed the Modifier." 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 Manet's eyes wondered down to heavy water tumbler full of rich, amber "That's what I'm trying to tell you," Manet said irritably, his social Manet took the tumbler in both hands and drank. It was good whiskey, "I don't believe you," Manet stated flatly. His conversation had grown Manet finished the mellow whiskey and looked into the glass. It seemed 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 "Suppose I'm the first?" Manet suggested reasonably. 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. The Red King followed.... Uselessly. "Tie game," Ronald said. "Tie game," Manet said. "Let's talk," Ronald said cheerfully. He was always cheerful. Cheerfulness was a personality trait Manet had thumbed out for him. Cheerful. Submissive. Co-operative. Manet had selected these factors in order to make Ronald as different a person from himself as possible. "The Korean-American War was the greatest of all wars," Ronald said pontifically. "Only in the air," Manet corrected him. Intelligence was one of the factors Manet had punched to suppress. Intelligence. Aggressiveness. Sense of perfection. Ronald couldn't know any more than Manet, but he could (and did) know less. He had seen to that when his own encephalograph matrix had programmed Ronald's feeder. Manet knew it all. He had heard it all before. and concept, why did he have to be trapped with such an unoriginal human being? Of course, Ronald wasn't an original human being. He was a copy. Manet had been interested in the Fabulous Forties—Lt. "Hoot" Gibson, Sam Merwin tennis stories, , there had been a magazine for you. Manet's only consolidation was that Ronald's tastes were lower than his own. He patriotically insisted that the American Sabre Jet was superior to the Mig. He maintained with a straight face that Tommy Dorsey was a better band man than Benny Goodman. Ronald was a terrific jerk. "Ronald," Manet said, "you are a terrific jerk." Ronald leaped up immediately and led with his right. Manet blocked it deftly and threw a right cross. Ronald blocked it deftly, and drove in a right to the navel. The two men separated and, puffing like steam locomotives passing the diesel works, closed again. Ronald leaped forward and led with his right. Manet stepped inside the swing and lifted an uppercut to the ledge of Ronald's jaw. Ronald pinwheeled to the floor. He lifted his bruised head from the deck and worked his reddened mouth. "Had enough?" he asked Manet. Manet dropped his fists to his sides and turned away. "Yes." Ronald hopped up lightly. "Another checkers, Billy Boy?" "No." "Okay. Anything you want, William, old conquerer." Manet scrunched up inside himself in impotent fury. Ronald was maddeningly co-operative and peaceful. He would even get in 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 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 "Come on, Billy Buddy, let me out of this place!" Manet padded on down the hall. He had, he recalled, shoved Ronald It irritated Manet. He never understood how the British had got the Manet selected the ripple-finished gray-covered manual from the have as much interest in that sort of thing as the earthier types. Simple companionship was all I wanted. And, he thought on, even an insipid personality like Ronald's would be bearable with certain compensations. Manet opened the book to the chapter headed: Veronica crept up behind Manet and slithered her hands up his back and Manet folded his arms stoically and added: "Please don't talk." Manet elbowed Veronica away in a gentlemanly fashion. wouldn't I?" She would, except that somehow she had turned out even less bright, less equipped with Manet's own store of information, than Ronald. Ronald's cries grew louder as Manet marched Veronica through the corridor. "Hear that?" he inquired, smiling with clenched teeth. Well, that was all right. He remembered he had once told her to ignore the noise. She was still following orders. "Come on, Bill, open up the hatch for old Ronald," the voice carried through sepulchrally. "Shut up!" Manet yelled. station. Manet threw back the bolt and wheeled back the hatch. Ronald looked just the same as had when Manet had seen him last. His hands didn't seem to have been worn away in the least. Ronald's lips seemed a trifle chapped. But that probably came not from all the shouting but from having nothing to drink for some months. Ronald didn't say anything to Manet. But he looked offended. "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 Manet slammed the hatch in disgust. Manet walked carefully down the corridor, watching streamers of carefully, else the artery would roll up tight and squash him. But he walked too carefully for this to happen. As he passed the File Room, Ronald's voice said: "In my opinion, 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>:
Who did Manet like the best?

<options>:
A Trader Tom
B Veronica
C Victor
D Ronald

<answer>:

C