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

<passage>:
Earth doctor to see that he didn't! it. The call from Morua II came in quite innocently, relayed to the ship from HQ in Standard GPP Contract code for crash priority, which meant Top Grade Planetary Emergency, and don't argue about it, fellows, just get there, fast. Red Doctor Sam Jenkins took one look at the ship Lancet spun in its tracks, so to speak, and began homing on the call-source like a hound on a fox. The fact that Morua II was a Class VI planet didn't quite register with anybody, just then. Jenkins snapped on the intercom. "Wally," he yelped. "Better get up here fast." "Trouble?" said the squawk-box, sleepily. "Oh, brother," said Jenkins. "Somebody's cracked the Contract Code or something." "Sounds familiar, but I can't quite tune in. Crash call?" His eye caught the black-striped card. "Class VI planet ... a plague spot! How can we get a crash-call from Jenkins nodded heavily. "There sure was. Five successive attempts to establish a Contract with them, and five times we got thrown out bodily. The last time an Earth ship landed there half the crew was summarily shot and the others came home with their ears cut off. Seems the folks on Morua II didn't want a Contract with Hospital Earth. And they're still in the jungle, as far as their medicine goes. Witch doctors and spells." He tossed the Info-card down the chute with a growl. "So now we have an emergency call from them in a Contract code they couldn't possibly know." The surgeon in the green undershorts chewed his lip. "Looks like somebody in that last crew spilled the beans before they shot him." "Obviously." crash-priority call, regardless of circumstances—" "Law be damned," Stone cried. "File a protest with HQ. Cancel the course bearings and thumb our noses at them!" how Morua II got the code, but they got it, and that's all the farther we're supposed to think. We answer the call, and beef about it later. stone: immediate medical assistance, without question or hesitation, whenever and wherever it was required, on any planet bound by Contract. In the early days of galactic exploration, of course, Medical Services Other planets outstripped Earth in technology, in communications, in landed, the crew was soon rendering Medical Services of one sort or the Medical Service Contract was formalized, and Hospital Earth came into being. Into all known corners of the galaxy ships of the General Practice Patrol were dispatched—"Galactic Pill Peddlers" forging a chain of Contracts from Aldebaran to Zarn, accepting calls, diagnosing they came across. Serious problems were shuttled back to Hospital Earth It was a rugged service for a single planet to provide, and it was costly. Many planets studied the terms of Contract and declined, pleasantly but firmly—and were assured nevertheless that GPP ships would answer an emergency call if one was received. There would be a other planets—places such as Morua II.... homed on the dismal grey planet with an escort of eight ugly fighter ships which had swarmed up like hornets to greet her. They triangled her in, grappled her, and dropped her with a bone-jarring crash into a landing slot on the edge of the city. As Sam Jenkins and Wally Stone picked themselves off the bulkheads, trying to rearrange the scarlet and green uniforms of their respective services, the main entrance lock burst open with a squeal of tortured metal. At least a Contract? Where did you get the Code?" "Bother the Contract," the Moruan snarled. "You're supposed to be "All right." He poked a hairy finger at a shuttle car perched outside. whispered conference devolved into growling and snarling. Finally "Who is His Eminence?" Jenkins asked. His Eminence looked up at them from bloodshot eyes and greeted them with a groan of anguish that seemed to roll up from the soles of his feet. "Go away," he moaned, closing his eyes again and rolling over with his back toward them. "Probably a viremia of some sort." Jenkins went over the great groaning hulk with inquiring fingers. "If it's a viremia, we're cooked," Stone whispered. "None of the drugs cannot eat. He moans until the Palace trembles." "What about your own doctors?" "We'll need supplies and information from our ship. We'll have to Jenkins took a deep breath and gripped his red tunic around his throat tightly. "Sure, sure," he said weakly. "You just watch us." "But what do you think we're going to do?" the surgeon wailed, back in the control room of the Lancet him. If he didn't die naturally we'd kill him for sure! We can't go near him without a Bio-survey—look what happened on Baron when they tried it! Half the planetary population wiped out before they realized that the oxygen-breathers, which means they manage internal combustion of send in a full crew of technicians to a newly-Contracted planet to make the initial Bio-survey of the indigenous races. Bio-chemists, no major setbacks, and full cooperation of the natives, the job only took about six months to do— For the crew of the Lancet herded cringing Moruan "volunteers" into the little ship's lab. Jenkins Wizards for a while?" Aguar's guards urged the tall Moruan with the purple cap into the control room at gunpoint, along with a couple of minor medical "All right then, what causes it? Do you know? Bacteria? Virus? Silence. Jenkins' face was pale. "Look, boys—your Boss out there is going to having outsiders cutting in on your trade." Jenkins rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "But somehow it seems to me you'd have a whale of a lot you the power—fair enough?" More whispers. Wally Stone tugged at Sam's sleeve. "What do you think you're doing?" he choked. "These boys will cut your throat quicker than Aguar will—" "Maybe not," said Sam. "Look, I've got an idea—risky, but it might would open their eyes all right." "No thanks, not me. This is a medical case and it's all yours. What do you want me to do?" "Stay here and try your damnedest to get through to HQ," said Sam grimly. "Tell them to send an armada, because we're liable to need one strength enough even to groan, and his eyes were glazed. Outside the royal chambers Jenkins found a group of green-clad mourners, wailing like banshees and tearing out their fur in great grey to the braziers at the bedside. "They're enough to give anybody a headache. And tell those people outside to stop the racket. How can they expect the Spirit of the Pox to come out of His Eminence when they're raising a din like that?" the door and screamed a command. The wailing stopped as though a switch had been thrown. As a couple of cowering guards crept in to remove the They woke him once, hours later, to change the intravenous solution, The plink-plink rose to a frantic staccato as Jenkins checked the patient's vital signs, wiped more sweat from his furry brow. Quite through to somebody at HQ," he said as the Red Doctor climbed aboard. "It'll take them twenty days at least, to get help, considering that Morua is not a Contract planet and we're not supposed to be here in the first place, but that's the best they can do...." "Tell them to forget the armada," said Jenkins, grinning. "And anyway, "With what? Incantations?" "Oh, the incantations were for the doctors thousand years ago. Without it, Hospital Earth might just as well pack

<question>:
How did the planet get the code to call for help?

<options>:
A This remains unknown
B Stolen from a contract planet
C From a crew member before they shot them
D From a crew member under threat of having their ear cut off

<answer>:

A