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

<passage>:
This was Burnett's last trip. Three more Sam Burnett shook his long head, trying to think clearly. Pallid and machines stirred, revolved, hummed. He didn't see them. He didn't see Burnett didn't move. He stood there in his rumpled white surgical gown, staring at his fingers gloved in bone-white rubber warrior's body out of the void. He didn't like it any more. Ten years is too long to go back and full-cargoed with a lot of warriors who didn't laugh or talk or smoke, from the ceiling radio hit Burnett. "Number ninety-eight," Burnett repeated. "Working on ninety-five, surgery." Off a million miles away his voice was talking. It sounded deep. It didn't belong to him anymore. drunk!" Burnett peeled the gloves off his huge, red, soft hands, slapped them salvaging any bodies still intact after the conflict. Two men. Rice and himself. Sharing a cozy morgue ship with a hundred inside, working out to the surface of Burnett's face, working under the Burnett jerked. Rice's voice clipped through the drainage-preservative shelves. Burnett stared at the tabled bodies as if they would leap to "Sam! On the double! Up the rungs!" Burnett closed his eyes and said a couple of words, firmly. Nothing was stars, the whamming of steel-nosed bombs into elusive targets, the ribs. grinding collisions, tossed from mother ships and dancing head over extended the retriever-claw and culled them into the air-lock. your job with mechanical hands. But even a machine breaks down.... "Sam!" Rice turned swiftly as Burnett dragged himself up the ladder. Burnett caught his breath. His eyes narrowed. There was something wrong with the body his experienced glance knew that. He didn't know what it was. Maybe it was because the body looked a little too dead. Burnett didn't say anything, but he climbed the rest of the way, blue. The hair was thin silken strands of pale gold, waved and pressed close to a veined skull. Where the thin-lipped mouth fell open a cluster of needle-tipped teeth glittered. The fragile body was enclosed completely in milk-pale syntha-silk, a holstered gun at the middle. Burnett rubbed his jaw. "Well?" Burnett scowled uneasily and said no. "It's Lethla!" Rice retorted. Burnett said, "Lethla?" And then: "Oh, yes! Kriere's majordomo. That right?" Burnett shrugged. More bodies, more people, more war. What the hell. "Look, Rice, you're new at this game. I've been at it ever since the green Earth. Grisly, yes, but it's routine. "As for Kriere—if he's anywhere around, he's smart. Every precaution is taken to protect that one." "But Lethla! His body must mean something!" "And if it does? Have we got guns aboard this morgue-ship? Are we a Rice stood about three inches below Sam Burnett's six-foot-one. Jaw "You're one hell of a patriot, Sam Burnett!" Burnett reached out with one long finger, tapped it quietly on Rice's days and see how patriotic you feel. All those fine muscled lads Burnett swallowed and didn't say anything more, but he closed his eyes. necessary talking. It didn't say anything either, but Burnett knew what Burnett swallowed hard. The body had looked funny. Too dead. Now he knew why. Involuntarily, Burnett moved forward. Lethla moved like a like a dead cold star. Rice sucked in his breath. Burnett forced himself to take it easy. From A crazy thought came ramming down and exploded in Burnett's head. of his face. He shucked it off, trailing air-tendrils that had been inserted, hidden in the uniform, ending in thin globules of oxygen. He spoke. Triumph warmed his crystal-thin voice. "That's how I did it, Earthman." "Glassite!" said Rice. "A face-moulded mask of glassite!" Lethla nodded. His milk-blue eyes dilated. "Very marvelously pared to an unbreakable thickness of one-thirtieth of an inch worn only on the Prickles of sweat appeared on Rice's face. He swore at the Venusian and the Venusian laughed like some sort of stringed instrument, high and Burnett laughed, too. Ironically. "First time in years a man ever came "I know you're weaponless metal and glass and Burnett put his shoulder blades against the wall-metal, looking at his feet. When he glanced up, Rice's fresh, animated face was spoiled by "Interplanetary law declares it straight, Lethla! Get out! Only dead men belong here." Burnett moved his tongue back and forth on his lips silently, his eyes Lethla's voice came next: "Rather unfortunately, yes. He's still alive, heading toward Venus at an orbital velocity of two thousand m.p.h., wearing one of these Rice didn't move. Burnett moved first, feeling alive for the first time Burnett scowled and smiled together. "No tricks. You'll have Kriere on Burnett went up, quick. Almost as if he enjoyed doing Lethla a favor. On the way up, Burnett thought about it. About Lethla poised like Burnett set his teeth together, bone against bone. Help Kriere escape? alive if they cooperated. Two muscles moved on Burnett, one in each long cheek. The sag in his "Very," said Burnett. Burnett laughed through his nose. Controls moved under his fingers like trick." "Cut power! We don't want to burn him!" Burnett cut. Kriere's milky face floated dreamily into a visual-screen, "We're about fifty miles from him, catching up." Burnett turned to a smitten gong for part of a century. Kriere, revolving in his neat, water-blue uniform, emblems shining gold, heat-gun tucked in glossy jet holster. With Kriere aboard, chances of overcoming him would be eliminated. Now: Rice and Burnett against Lethla. Lethla favored fooled—somehow. But—how? Burnett's jaw froze tight. He could feel a spot on his shoulder-blade Burnett slipped from the control console. Rice replaced him grimly. Burnett strode to the next console of levers. That spot on his back Burnett smiled right back at him. What Kriere didn't know was that he fast. Burnett jabbed a purple-topped stud. The star-port clashed open as good sound. And out of the star-port, at Sam Burnett's easily fingered Burnett inhaled a deep breath. He watched while Burnett exhaled, touched another lever and said: "You And the claw closed as Burnett spoke, closed slowly and certainly, all head, which was carefully preserved for identification. That was the only way to draw Lethla off guard. Burnett spun about and leaped. Rice came in fighting, too, but not before something like a red-hot ramrod stabbed Sam Burnett, catching him in the ribs, spinning him back like a drunken idiot to fall in a corner. young face over him. Burnett groaned. "To hell with it." Burnett winced, and fought to keep his eyes open. "Rice?" "We haven't got a full cargo, boy." Burnett was lying down, not moving, but somehow Rice was going away a "Ain't I one hell of a patriot, Rice?" thick and slow. Rice looked down at Burnett and then at the empty shelf at the far end of the room, and then back at Burnett again.

<question>:
Why is Burnett compared to a machine?

<options>:
A Because he has become numb to his emotions after witnessing so much death
B Because he has always been detached from his emotions
C Because he is renowned for his efficiency at his job
D Because he is part cyborg

<answer>:

A