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

<passage>:
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] The most dangerous is not the outlawed murderer, who only slays men, but the rebellious philosopher: for he destroys worlds. Darkness and the chill glitter of stars. Bo Jonsson crouched on a whirling speck of stone and waited for the man who was coming to kill him. insulating material. He might be able to hear the footsteps of his murderer conducted through the ground. Stillness answered him. He gulped a heavy lungful of tainted air and rose. The other might be miles away yet, or perhaps very close, catfooting too softly to set up vibrations. A man could do that when He had never felt so alone as now, when another man was on the asteroid with him, hunting him down. fear he wouldn't be able to stop. Let's face it , he told himself. You're scared. You're scared sweatless. miles, probably more if you allowed for the rough surface. He could skulk around, hide ... and suffocate when his tanked air gave out. He had to be a hunter, too, and track down the other man, before he died. And if he found his enemy, he would probably die anyway. He looked about him. Nothing. No sound, no movement, nothing but the death. Not till men came and hunted each other. Slowly he forced himself to move. The thrust of his foot sent him up, looping over the cliff to drift down like a dead leaf in Earth's Bo Jonsson's tongue was dry and thick in his mouth. He wanted to find his enemy and give up, buy existence at whatever price it would command. But he couldn't do that. Even if the other man let him do it, which was doubtful, he couldn't. Johnny Malone was dead. Maybe that was what had started it all—the death of Johnny Malone. There are numerous reasons for basing on the Trojan asteroids, but rockhound dreaming of the day when his stake is big enough for him to start out on his own—a race of individualists, rough and noisy and jealous, but living under iron rules of hospitality and rescue. The Last Chance on Achilles has another name, which simply sticks an "r" in the official one he didn't grate on Bo, they had been partners for several years now. one of Achilles' three live ecdysiasts with hungry eyes, and by some with amiable blue eyes in a battered brown face, he did not consider "Because I am one at heart. Look, Bo, why don't you get over that "If we want some women we'd better make our reservations now." "I don't, Johnny," said Bo. "I'll just nurse a beer." It wasn't morals so much as fastidiousness Johnny put away another couple of shots and rose. Alcohol cost plenty, but it was also more effective in low-gee. "'Scuse me," he said. "I see a target. Sure you don't want me to ask if she has a friend?" Bo shook his head and watched his partner move off, swift in the puny gravity—the Last Chance didn't centrifuge like some of the tommicker places downtown. It was hard to push through the crowd without weight to help, but Johnny faded along and edged up to the girl with his highest-powered smile. There were several other men standing around her, but Johnny had The Touch. He'd be bringing her back here in a few minutes. Bo sighed, feeling a bit lonesome. If he wasn't going to make a night of it, there was no point in drinking heavily. He had to make the final arguing with Johnny. His face was ugly with anger. Johnny made some reply. Bo heaved up his form and strode toward the discussion, casually picking up anyone in the way and setting him the dart in his stomach. Then his knees buckled and he fell with a nightmare slowness. only clear thought which ran in the sudden storm of Bo's head. slugged, someone else coolly smashed a bottle against the bar and lifted the jagged end. There was the noise of a fist meeting flesh. Bo had seen death before. That needle wasn't anesthetic, it was poison. place to hide his enemy was not there. He turned the thought over in a mind which seemed stiff and slow. By crossing that little plain he was exposing himself to a shot from one of its edges. On the other hand, he could just as well be bushwhacked from a ravine as he jumped over. And this route was the fastest for completing his search scheme. wish, and much good it had done him. He went over the edge of the cliff, cautiously, for it wouldn't take much of an impetus to throw him off this rock entirely. Then his helpless and soon frozen body would be just another meteor for the next reaching to a saw-toothed bluff at its farther edge. could be so much stillness. He was halfway across when the bullet came. He saw no flash, heard no crack, but suddenly the fissured land before him exploded in a Bo stood unmoving an instant, fighting the impulse to leap away. He was was cold on his body. He squinted, trying to see where the shot had come from. Suddenly he was zigzagging off across the plain toward the nearest There was a knife in his back, it was white-hot and twisting between the ribs. He stumbled over the edge of the plain and fell, waking when and freezing its moisture. The knife in him was not hot, it was cold with an ultimate cold. emergency reserve, but a preventive of emergencies, for one man alone might get too tired at the critical moments. Bo knew he wouldn't be allowed to leave Achilles without a certified partner, and unemployed Bo didn't care the first day. He had taken Johnny out to Helmet Hill and laid him in the barren ground to wait, unchanging now, till Judgement Day. He felt empty then, drained of grief and hope alike, his main thought a dull dread of having to tell Johnny's father when he reached Luna. He was too slow and clumsy with words his comforting "Johnny's dead. We can't leave." "Oh ... I'm sorry. He was such a nice little man—I've been in the lab she wouldn't look twice at a big dumb slob like him. He had sweated out a couple of similar affairs in the past and didn't want to go through another. Bo had heard of it in the course of Bo understood that kind of loyalty. You couldn't travel space without Bo went at his share of the job doggedly, checking and re-checking Bo relaxed against the thrust, thinking of Achilles falling away behind In another minute, he would be knotted and screaming from the bends, and a couple of minutes later he would be dead. Bo clamped his teeth together, as if he would grip consciousness in his jaws. His hands felt cold and heavy, the hands of a stranger, as The plastic patch stuck to his metal gauntlet. He peeled it off, trying not to howl with the fury ripping in his nerves. His body was slow, inert, a thing to fight. There was no more feeling in his back, was he dead already? Redness flamed before his eyes, red like Valeria's hair blowing across the stars. It was sheer reflex which brought his arm around to slap the straining to break loose and kill him. Bo's mind wavered back toward life. He opened the valves wide on his tanks, and his thermostatic capacitors pumped heat back into him. For to lie on naked rock while the enemy hunted him. Bo shuddered and have spent most of its force punching through the armor, caromed off the inside, scratched his ribs, and fallen dead. Next time he probably

<question>:
What is one thing that Bo takes solace in when he knows he is being hunted by the other man?

<options>:
A Bo knows that he can beat the man if the man comes at him in a fair fight.
B Once the man catches and kills him, then he can stop being lonely.
C The area where he awaits the man's arrival is vast, so the man might not find him.
D He knows he can kill the man first if he has the chance.

<answer>:

C