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

<passage>:
Fiction January 1953. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] There were two pinkish, bipedal fishermen on the tiny islet. In order to make Izaak Walton's sport complete, there must was a question as to which was which. planet was a repetition of the two before it, a nine-hour intermission of drowsy, pastoral peace. Navigator Arthur Farrell—it was his turn to stand watch—was sitting at an open-side port with a magnoscanner ready but in spite of his vigilance he had not exposed a film when the inevitable pre-dawn rainbow began to shimmer over the eastern ocean. Sunrise brought him alert with a jerk, frowning at sight of two pinkish, bipedal Arzian fishermen posted on the tiny coral islet a quarter-mile offshore, their blank triangular faces turned stolidly toward the beach. "They're at it again," Farrell called, and dropped to the mossy turf outside. "Roll out on the double! I'm going to magnofilm this!" cook than like the veteran commander of a Terran Colonies expedition. Gibson followed, stretching his powerfully-muscled body like a wrestler to throw off the effects of sleep. Gibson was linguist-ethnologist of the crew, a blocky man in his early thirties with thick black hair and heavy brows that shaded a square, humorless face. "Any sign of the squids yet?" he asked. and learn something of their mores before we can interfere." Farrell turned an irritable stare on the incurious group of Arzians gathering, nets and fishing spears in hand, at the edge of the sheltering bramble forest. "What stumps me is their motivation," he said. "Why do the fools go out to that islet every night, when they must know damned well what will happen next morning?" Gibson answered him with an older problem, his square face puzzled. "For entire globe in the scouter and found nothing but water and a scattering of little islands like this one, all covered with bramble. It wasn't a city these pink fishers could have built, either. The architecture was beyond them by a million years." "Get set! Here they come!" feet in length and a glistening chlorophyll green in the early light. They stooped like hawks upon the islet offshore, burying the two Arzian fishers instantly under their snapping, threshing bodies. Then around uprushing of black, octopoid shapes. as usual, to stop the slaughter." harpooned seals. No trace remained of the two Arzian natives. "A neat example of dog eat dog," Farrell said, snapping off the magnoscanner. "Do any of those beauties look like city-builders, Gib?" Chattering pink natives straggled past from the shelter of the thorn forest, ignoring the Earthmen, and lined the casting ledges along the beach to begin their day's fishing. "Nothing we've seen yet could have built that city," Gibson said that the discrepancy assumed definite form. had all but drowned before his fellows pulled him out with extended spear-shafts. Which meant that the fishers could not swim, else some would surely have gone in after him. And the Marco's crew had explored Arz exhaustively without finding any completed itself with automatic logic, almost rousing Farrell out of his doze. "I'll be damned," he muttered. "No boats, and they don't swim. Then how the devil do they get out to that islet? " The Arzians did not swim, and without boats.... It occurred to him then that there had been two of the pink fishers on the islet each morning, and the coincidence made him sit up suddenly, startled. Why two? Why not three or four, or only one? He stepped out through the open lock and paced restlessly up and down on the springy turf, feeling the ocean breeze soft on his face. Three days of dull routine logwork had built up a need for physical action that he was intrigued and at the same time annoyed by the enigmatic relation that linked the Arzian fishers to the dragons and squids, and his desire to understand that relation was aggravated by the knowledge that Arz could be a perfect world for Terran colonization. That is, he thought wryly, if Terran colonists could stomach the weird custom pursued by its natives of committing suicide in pairs. He went over again the improbable drama of the past three mornings, and found it not too unnatural until he came to the motivation and the means of transportation that placed the Arzians in pairs on the islet, when his whole fabric of speculation fell into a tangled snarl of Regulations, but— "Damn Terran Regulations," he muttered. "I've got to know ." unrevealing. He worked deeper into the underbrush and found other sleeping couples, but nothing else. There were no humming insects, no twittering night-birds or scurrying rodents. He had worked his way close to the center of the island without further discovery and was on the point of Marco's open port.... He was standing erect when he woke, his back to the open sea and a but for some seconds his shuttling mind was too busy to consider the failed. motion He broke off, seeing for the first time the octopods that ringed the outcrop just under the surface of the water, waiting with barbed tentacles spread and yellow eyes studying him glassily. He heard the with shock-born lucidity: Gibson's voice came tinnily from the audicom. "Scattered them for the of the octopods were swimming strongly for shore, holding the rigid Arzian native carefully above water between them. in the ." In the enough," Gibson said. "I realized that finally, remembering how they used high-altitude blimps during the First Wars to spot submarines, and when I took the scouter up far enough there it was, at the ocean bottom—a city to compare with anything men ever built." Stryker stared. "A marine city? What use would sea-creatures have for buildings?" men or by a manlike race, judging from the architecture—and was submerged later by a sinking of land masses that killed off the original builders and left Arz nothing but an oversized archipelago. The squids took over then, and from all appearances they've developed a culture of their own." fishers—" "Are cattle, or less," Gibson finished. "The octopods are the dominant armed invasion." "Invasion of a squid world?" Farrell protested, baffled. "Why should surface colonization conflict with an undersea culture, Gib? Why couldn't we share the planet?" "Because the octopods own the islands too, and keep them policed," Gibson said patiently. "They even own the pink fishers. It was one of the squid-people, making a dry-land canvass of his preserve here to pick a couple of victims for this morning's show, that carried you off last world, Arthur, don't you see? And like most civilized peoples, they're sportsmen. The flying-lizards are the game they hunt, and they raise the pink fishers for—" Farrell swore in astonishment. "Then those poor devils are put out there couldn't spot their motivation!" Gibson got up and sealed the port, shutting out the soft morning breeze. "Colonization being out of the question, we may as well move on before the octopods get curious enough about us to make trouble. Do you feel up don't think I want to stick here and be used for bait again, do you?"

<question>:
Of the following options, which best summarizes this story?

<options>:
A Men study a planet to see where they should colonize and learn the natural resources potential of the planet.
B Men study the interspecies interactions on a planet to learn whether they're allowed to colonize the planet.
C Men study the interspecies interactions on a planet to make sense of them to learn whether the planet is safe to inhabit.
D Men study a planet to see where they should colonize and learn more about the strange customs of the fishermen.

<answer>:

B