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

<passage>:
The man worth while couldn't be allowed If there is anything I am afraid of, and there probably is, it is having a rookie Accident Prone, half-starved from the unemployment remember what it is like to live in a rathole behind an apartment compare favorably to the Admiralty-style staterooms and steak and had blasted down in the black of night and were waiting for daylight to so we had an easy one—just seeing if anything new had developed in the last fifty years. Baxter's guard was doubled as soon as we set down, of course, and that made him fidgety. He had heard all the stories about how high the casualty rate was with Prones aboard spaceships and now he was Actually Charlie was safer in space than he would be back on Earth practically never lost a Prone—they were too valuable and rare to lose—but we did not want him to stop worrying. The precautions we took to safeguard him, the armed men who went with him everywhere, the Accident Prone First Aid Kit with spare parts for him, blood, eyes, bone, nerves, arms, legs, and so forth, only emphasized to him the danger, not the rigidly secured safety. We like it that way. because they are incapable of trusting themselves, they do exactly the opposite. I felt a little sorry for Charlie Baxter, but I was Captain of the and my job was to keep him worried and trying. The worst didn't want to lose it. His clumsiness back on Earth had cost him every decent job he ever had. for the position of Prone aboard a spaceship. He had been poor—hungry, cold, wet, poor—and now he had luxury of a kind almost no one had in clothes and a solid roof to keep out the rain. But right now I knew he always admired the men who can look starched in a uniform. Mine always Bronoski looked at me over the top of his picture tape from where he lay on the sofa. No one else was in the compartment. "Where is Baxter?" I asked the hulking guard. My eyes were on the sofa. My own bed pulled out of the wall and was considerably inferior to this, much less Baxter's bed in the next cabin. But then I am only a Bronoski swung his feet off the couch and stood more or less in what I might have taken for attention if I hadn't known him better. "Sidney and Elliot escorted him down to the men's room, Captain Jackson." "You mean," I said very quietly, "that he isn't in his own bath?" "No sir," Bronoski said wearily. "He told us it was out of order." were more likely to be out of order than the plumbing in the Accident Prone's suite. No effort was spared to insure comfort for the key man in the whole crew. One glance inside the compartment at the end of the corridor satisfied me. There wasn't a thing wrong with the plumbing, so Baxter must have had something in mind. On a hunch of my own, I checked the supply lockers next to the airlock while Bronoski fired questions at my back. Three translator collars were missing. Baxter had left the spaceship and gone off into an alien night. Elliot and Sidney, the guards, were absolutely prohibited from interfering in any way with a Prone's decisions. They merely had to follow him and give their lives to save his, if necessary. I grabbed up a translator collar and tossed one to Bronoski. Then, just as we were getting into the airlock, I remembered something and ran Charlie Baxter had less. Lots of things can change on a planet in fifty years, including its inhabitants. Bronoski picked up Baxter's tracks and those of the two guards, Elliot satellites, and in contrast to the rest of the group. Elliot Charterson and Sidney Von Elderman were more or less type-cast as brawny, brainless bodyguards. Their friends described them as muscle-bound apes, but other people sometimes got insulting. Charlie had at his waist look positively indecent. protect him. They had machine guns, flame-throwers, atomic grenades, and some really potent weapons. They could handle the situation. I didn't have a thing to worry about. relaxed, and his eyes didn't goggle so much. He said, "We do not Before he could perform his usual pratfall, Sidney and Elliot were at his sides, supporting him by his thin biceps. He glared at them and shrugged them off, informing them wordlessly that he would have regained his balance if they had given him half a chance. Prone's throat. Charterson and Von Elderman instantly went into action. Elliot Charterson jumped to Charlie's assistance while Sidney Von Elderman swung around to protect Charlie from the rest of the crowd. But the defense didn't work. down into the grass. Sidney had been set to defend the Prone, not his fellow guard. They might have been all right if he had pulled a few off Elliot and let him get to work, except his training told him that the life of a guard did not matter a twit, but that a Prone must be defended. He started toward Charlie Baxter and was immediately pulled down by a spare dozen of the mob. It all meant one thing to me. The reaction of the crowd had been spontaneous, not planned. That meant that the struggle between Charlie unholy, indecent and dastardly to interfere. I could fairly hear Bronoski's steel muscles preparing for battle as I knew the reason Baxter had slipped out at night to be the first to greet the aliens. He was determined to be useful and necessary without I could have gone with them. There was undoubtedly an unhealthy amount He ran into the clearing and found four bodies sprawled out: Charlie Baxter, his two guards and the native spokesman. Charlie and the native were both technically unconscious, but they each had a stranglehold on each other, with Charlie getting the worst of it. We knew enough not to use the blood-brothers approach after fifty years The idea that seemed to be in favor was the survival of the fittest. Since the natives were born in litters, with single births extremely particularly cunning, the runts of the litter did not survive the first test of survival. My men learned to call themselves Last Brother in the usual bragging one, whom they could handle themselves. They still had folk legends suite and shook hands with him as he still lay in bed. "Yes, sir. I see I've been fighting this thing too hard. I am an Accident Prone and I might as well accept it. Why not? I seem to always He sat down on the edge of the bed and examined the pattern in the "If you don't actively fulfill the obligations of a Prone, you aren't allowed the luxuries and privileges that go with the position. Do you think you would like to be without your armed guards to protect you every moment?" "I can take care of myself, sir!" I paused and came up with my best argument. "How would you like to live like an ordinary spaceman, without rare steaks and clean sheets? he must have had some guilt feelings about accepting all that luxury Actually, most Prones died of old age in space, which is more than protection the Service gives them. "Look here, Baxter, do you like your quarters on this ship?" I demanded. "You mean this master bedroom, the private heated swimming pool, the He gazed off over my left shoulder. "I had a bed behind the furnace "You wouldn't like this one any better than the one before." He surely must have known how I lived in comparison to him, so I didn't Prone and doing the work faithfully and according to orders." "Yes, sir," Charlie mumbled. care of the rest of us only if he has time left over from you. Why, when I was having my two weeks in the summer as an Ensign, I had to lie for half an hour with a crushed foot while the doctor sprayed our money as I do, do you, sir? You don't have a valet? And your bed folds into the bulkhead?" I thought he was at last beginning to get it. "Yes," I said. He had better. better.

<question>:
Who had the nicest place to sleep?

<options>:
A The accident-prone
B The spacemen
C The captain
D The guard

<answer>:

A