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

<passage>:
"Now Fweep ain't the brightest creature in the Universe, so he can't ain't gonna do. "That's the problem. All we got to do is figure out the answer. No use this computer won't work. It won't even do simple arithmetic! Where's Four? He's the only one who understands this thing." of exercising adult judgment and because he had the youngest adult reflexes, he sat in the pilot's chair, the control stick between his knees, his thumb still over the Off-On button on top. "I know it, Junior had won her was, to Grampa, the most hopeful thing he had ever noticed about the boy. "But everybody calls Junior 'Junior,'" Four complained. "Besides, Fred is Junior's father and Junior calls him 'Fred.'" and Fred's wife, still slim and handsome as she approached sixty, but button on his pircuit. The last light went out. "You've got work to do, have you? Whose flivver do you think this is, anyhow?" "It belongs to all of us," Four said shrilly. "You gave us all a sixth share." "That's right, Four," Grampa muttered, "so I did. But whose money bought it?" flivver? Eh? Who made possible this gallivanting all over space?" "You, Grampa," Fred said. "You bet! And who made one hundred million dollars out of it that the rest of you vultures are just hanging around to gobble up when I die?" "And who spent it all trying to invent perpetual motion machines and "You're never going to die, Grampa," Joyce said harshly. "Just before we left, you bought a hundred-year contract with that Life-Begins-At-Ninety longevity company." taking turns, and you can put out one, two or three lights. The player who makes the other one turn out the last light is the winner." "That's simple," Four said without hesitation. "The winning strategy is to—" "Don't be a kibitzer!" Grampa snapped. "When I need help, I'll ask fauna." He rushed to the air lock. "Four!" Reba called out warningly. "It's all right, Reba," Four assured her. "The air is within one per he asked impatiently. "Well, what's all the mystery?" "No use bothering the others yet," Junior said, his face puzzled. "You quit." "Quit!" "Nonsense!" Joyce said sharply. "Earthmen don't make friends with aliens. And that's nothing but a—a blob!" Joyce stood up indignantly. "Well! And don't call me 'Grammy!' It makes married a jerk like Junior, anyhow." four each—" "That's right," Four agreed. "I can make you a new one by cannibalizing "Yep," Grampa said. "Too easy." Four thought a moment. "There's a modern variation with three followed closely by Junior. They were sweat-stained and weary, scintillation counters dangling heavily from their belts. regal and slim. The pose was spoiled immediately by her avid question: "Any uranium? Radium? Thorium?" "No," Fred said slowly, "and no other heavy metals, either. There's a few low-grade iron deposits and that's it." billionaires. And all we've done is spent a year of our lives in this cramped old flivver—and we don't have many of them to spare!" She glared venomously at Grampa. end of our search. Short of a miracle, we'll spend the rest of our lives right here—involuntary colonists." it's broken or there's something about the gravity around here that just won't polarize." "It's these '23 models," Grampa put in disgustedly. "They never were any good." "That's just supposition," Junior said stubbornly. "The fact is, it isn't because it doesn't. Q.E.D." blamed thing work. What I told you is what the scientists said, near as I remember. Now me—I'm like Edison. I do it and let everybody else worry over 'why.'" we won't have to stop with one child. We can have all the babies we want." "You know the law: one child per couple," Joyce reminded her frigidly. "You can condemn yourself to exile from civilization if you wish. Not "Here." Four came through the airlock and trudged across the room, carrying a curious contraption made of tripod legs supporting a "Fweep?" it queried hopefully. "Not now," said Four. "It shifts." "That's impossible," said Junior. "Not for Fweep," Four replied. "What do you mean by that?" Joyce suspiciously asked. cannibal takes over the other cannibal and leaves him there and—" "Not now, Grampa," Four said inattentively as he watched Fweep making the grand tour of the cabin. The raspberry sphere swept over a scattering of crumbs, engulfed them, "There's no use trying to poison Fweep," Four said calmly. "He's got no enzymes to act on, no nervous system to paralyze. He doesn't even use what he 'eats' on a molecular level at all." "He uses ordinary substances on an atomic level?" Junior said unbelievingly. Four nodded. "And that 'skin' of his—whatever it is he uses for skin—is more efficient in stopping particle emissions than several something with him. It's preposterous that we should be detained here at the whim of a mere blob!" you can't drown or strangle him. You can't imprison him he 'eats' everything. And violence might be more dangerous to us than to him. Either way, you'd feel rather uncomfortable, Grammy." "Don't call me 'Grammy!' Well, what are we going to do, just sit around and wait for that thing to die?" "We'd have a long wait," Four observed. "Fweep is the only one of his kind on this planet." "Well?" "Probably he's immortal." "Probably not. If he doesn't die, there's no point in reproduction. Reproduction is nature's way of providing racial immortality to mortal creatures." anyway." "I thank him for nothing," Joyce snapped. "He lured us down here by immediately !" "Linear polarization is uncomfortable for him, is it?" Grampa said. "Makes you wonder how something like Fweep could ever develop." "He's no more improbable than people," said Four. "Less than some I've known," Grampa conceded. cabin for dust and lint?" "He wants to be helpful," Four replied without hesitation, "and he's lonely. After all," he added wistfully, "he's never had any friends." "How do you know all these things?" Joyce asked from her doorway, it, I mean?" "Some," Four admitted. "Have you asked it to let us go?" "Yes." "Fwiend," it said. "Well, now," Grampa said maliciously, his eye on Joyce, "that's no problem. We can just leave Four here with Fweep." In a voice filled with sanctimonious concern, Joyce said, "That's quite a sacrifice to ask, but—" "Never mind, Reba," Four said evenly. "It was just what I was going to suggest myself. It's the one really logical solution." front of an open fire, and Junior sat at the computer's keyboard swearing in a steady monotone. "Junior!" said Joyce, shocked. won't work." "I'm sure that calling it names won't help, and besides, you shouldn't Four is strange enough without encouraging him to think like a martyr. It's out of the question. If that's the only way we can leave this planet, we'll stay here until Four has a beard as white as Grampa's!" and he don't want Four to leave him.

<question>:
To whom was Grammy married?

<options>:
A Grampa
B Junior
C Fred
D No one

<answer>:

C