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

<passage>:
END AS A HERO By KEITH LAUMER distinction. I'd swapped the railroader's cap for a tarnished beret. The man who had supplied the outfit was still asleep. I figured I'd done him a favor by taking it. I couldn't hope to pass for a Granthan's mission was the most vital of the war. the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] It would mean instant victory—but for whom? I fisherman—I wasn't the type. Maybe I'd get by as a coffee-house derelict. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that He rolled an eye toward me, shifted his toothpick. "What ya wanna go out there for? Nothing out there." "I'm a tourist," I said. "They told me before I left home not to miss it." vegetables in bins, enough paint-flaked wrought iron to cage a herd of brontosauri, and fetched up at a cab stand. I picked a fat driver with a wart. I touched his mind, planted a couple of false impressions and withdrew. "I'll be all right." "I hope so," he said. "A man like you—you and me—" he winked. "After all, we ain't both wearing berets fer nothing." Gool—if I survived. and how had I managed to dog that I flipped the switch and gave the emergency call-letters Col. Ausar Kayle of Aerospace Intelligence had assigned to me a few weeks before. It was almost five minutes before the "acknowledge" came through from "Granthan!" he burst out. "Where are the others? What happened out "How the hell do I know?" I yelled—or croaked. But Kayle's voice was "... you Psychodynamics people have been telling me the Gool may have some kind of long-range telehypnotic ability that might make it "This is war, Granthan. War against a vicious enemy who strike without warning and without mercy. You were sent out to investigate the possibility of—what's that term you use?—hyper-cortical invasion. You "I'm sorry, Granthan. I can't let you land on Earth. I can't accept knowing what was coming. I couldn't really blame him he was doing what he thought was the right thing. And I'd have to go along and pretend—right up until the warheads struck—that I didn't know I'd been condemned to death. range of Earth. I had gotten clear of the Gool, but I wouldn't survive my next meeting with my own kind. They couldn't take the chance that I was acting under Gool orders. I wasn't, of course. I was still the same Peter Granthan, psychodynamicist, who had started out with Dayan's fleet six weeks Maybe there was something in Kayle's suspicion. If the Gool were as their tampering—not at a conscious level. But this was where psychodynamics training came in. I had been reacting like any scared casualty, aching to get home and lick his wounds. But I wasn't just any casualty. I had been trained in the subtleties of the mind—and I had been prepared for just such an attack. Now was the time to make use of that training. It had given me one resource. I could unlock the memories of my subconscious—and see again probing Gool mind, like a whispered touch deftly rearranging my buried intricate. I saw how the decoy pseudo-personality which I had concretized for the purpose in a hundred training sessions had fought against the intruding stimuli—then yielded under the relentless thrust of the alien probe. I watched as the Gool operator took over the motor followed the skillful Gool mind as it engraved its commands deep in Watching the Gool mind, I learned. The insinuating probe—a concept regarding which psychodynamicists had and manipulating it, copying the Gool probe. Like planes of paper-thin Effulgence! It reached out—touched Using the technique I had grasped from the Gool itself, I struck, obscene gelatinous immensity of the Gool spy as it spasmed in a frenzy I clamped down control. The Gool mind folded in on itself, gibbering. tracing patterns, scanning the flaccid Gool mind.... source, filling an immense natural basin. The Gool clustered at its linked each eating organ with the brain-mass far underground. I traced told me, were the young of the Gool. Here they built the fleets that would transport the spawn to the new worlds the Prime Overlord had beyond belief in endless profusion. No longer would the Gool tribe The Gool had evolved a plan—but they'd had a stroke of bad luck. In the past, they had managed to control a man here and there, among man back to Earth under Gool compulsion, to carry out complex sabotage. the fortress door to an unseen spy. Now that I was there, I would see white sound, plumbed the deepest recesses of hidden Gool thoughts, From the vile nest deep under the dark surface of the Gool world in its lonely trans-Plutonian orbit, I had plucked the ultimate secret of a Gool robot. But what I have is too big to let you blow it up without I harangued Kayle for a while, and then sweated out his answer. I was getting close now. If he couldn't see the beauty of my proposal, my for the trip with sessions on the encephaloscope, setting up the "I don't understand that psychodynamics jargon, Granthan," he snapped. "It smacks of mysticism. But I understand what the Gool have done to I leaned back and chewed the inside of my lip and thought unkind thoughts about Colonel Ausar Kayle. Then I settled down to solve the problem at hand. it was the routine DEW line patrol contact. I closed my eyes, reached out—as the Gool mind had reached out to then I dictated my instructions. The Signals Officer punched keys, spoke into his microphone: controls, following my evasive pattern. And again I reached out— I would have to risk calling Kayle now—but by voluntarily giving my Kayle's face appeared. "Don't fight it, Granthan," he croaked. "You "We have you pinpointed," Kayle cut in. "It's no use fighting it, Granthan." Call them back! I have information that can win the war—" "I'm sorry, Granthan," Kayle said. "It's too late—even if I could take the chance you were right." A different face appeared on the screen. "Mr. Granthan, I am General Titus. On behalf of your country, and in the name of the President—who has been apprised of this tragic situation—it is my privilege to inform you that you will be awarded the Congressional Medal of Honor—posthumously—for your heroic effort. Although you failed, and have in fact been forced, against your will, to carry out the schemes of the inhuman enemy, this in no way detracts from your gallant attempt. Mr. Granthan, I salute you." The general's arm went up in a rigid gesture. "Stow that, you pompous idiot!" I barked. "I'm no spy!" Kayle was back, blanking out the startled face of the general. "Goodbye, Granthan. Try to understand...." I closed my eyes, forced myself to relax, reached out.... I fingered my way through the man's mind and found the control centers. Men fell on him, dragged him back. "— fool, why did you blow it? " I ducked back, closed my eyes, felt out for his mind. There was a Key Largo, but things had been happening too fast. "Hey! Where you goin' with my glass?" him say: "Friend o' mine in there—just passin' through." communications with others, instinctively reached out toward them. An hour later he dropped me on a street corner in a shabby marketing

<question>:
How did Granthan know how to reach out to the Gool?

<options>:
A There was an open channel
B He was a psychodynamicist
C He copied what they had done to him
D He was a soldier

<answer>:

C