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

<passage>:
Mr. Meek Plays Polo educated bugs worried him then the It added, as an afterthought, in shaky, inexpert lettering: We Fix Anything. faint, almost illegible. Meek blinked at it through thick-lensed spectacles, finally deciphered its scrawl: Ask About Educated Bugs. A bit bewildered, but determined not to show it, Meek swung away from immediately felt ashamed of himself for growing poetic. This sector of space, he knew, was not in the least poetic. It was hard and savage and as he thought about that, he hitched up his gun belt and struck out with a firmer tread that almost upset him. After that, he tried to Even the bulky spacesuit failed to hide his stooped shoulders and slight frame. Meek tried again. "I saw the sign. It said you could fix anything. So I...." Meek cleared his throat uneasily. "I'm afraid it's more than a puncture. A pebble got into the instruments. Washed out some of them." "You learned it?" sure run him ragged. First year they almost drove him loopy trying to figure out what kind of game they were playing." "Game?" asked Meek, wondering if he was being hoaxed. "Sure, game. Like checkers. Only it ain't. Not chess, neither. Even figured out, they'd change the rules and throw him off again." "That doesn't make sense," protested Meek. worth it, either. Just ring-rats, that's all they are." Henrietta Perkins, representative for the public health and welfare department of the Solar government, shuddered at his suggestion of anything so low it didn't yearn for betterment. "But those terrible feuds," she protested. "Fighting just because they live in different parts of the Ring. It's natural they might feel some rivalry, but all this killing! Surely they don't enjoy getting killed." "But they could fight with something besides guns," said the welfare lady, a-smirk with righteousness. "That's why I'm here. To try to get them to turn their natural feelings of rivalry into less deadly and disturbing channels. Direct their energies into other activities." "Like what?" asked Moe, fearing the worst. "Athletic events," said Miss Perkins. "Tin shinny, maybe," suggested Moe, trying to be sarcastic. She missed the sarcasm. "Or spelling contests," she said. "Them fellow can't spell," insisted Moe. "Games of some sort, then. Competitive games." demanded. "Got your message, I did, and here I am. But it better be important." him, keeping out of reach. "Have some trouble?" he asked, trying to be casual. He took a jolt of liquor. "Yes, sir, I sure aim to crucify him." His eyes lighted on Miss Henrietta Perkins. Gus stared in disbelief. Moe tried to be helpful. "She wants you to play games." Gus strangled on his drink, clawed for air, wiped his eyes. "So that's why you asked me over here. Another of your danged peace Gus took another drink, glowering at Miss Perkins. "So the government sent you out to make us respectable," he said. "Merely to help you, Mr. Hamilton," she declared. "To turn your hatreds into healthy competition." "Games, eh?" said Gus. "Maybe you got something, after all. Maybe we "Forget it, Gus," warned Moe. "If you're thinking of energy guns at fifty paces, it's out. Miss Perkins won't stand for anything like that." Miss Perkins beamed. "What game is it, Mr. Hamilton?" "Why, how wonderful," simpered Miss Perkins. "And you boys have the spaceships to play it with." Moe looked alarmed. "Miss Perkins," he warned, "don't let him talk you into it." "You shut your trap," snapped Gus. "She wants us to play games, don't she. Well, polo is a game. A nice, respectable game. Played in the best society." "It wouldn't be no nice, respectable game the way you fellows would play it," predicted Moe. "It would turn into mass murder. Wouldn't be one of you who wouldn't be planning on getting even with someone else, once you got him in the open." Miss Perkins gasped. "Why, I'm sure they wouldn't!" play polo in ships tied up with haywire. Those broomsticks you "Space polo," declared Meek, "is a noble game. It requires expert "Oh, Mr. Hamilton," exulted Miss Perkins, "you are so wonderful. You Meek looked crestfallen. "Can't get near them, then," he said. III The bugs had dug a new set of holes, much after the manner of a Chinese pouch of his space gear, brought out a notebook and stylus. Flipping the pages, he stared, frowning, at the diagrams that covered them. None of the diagrams made sense. They showed the patterns of three other boards and the moves that had been made by the bugs in playing out the game. Apparently, in each case, the game had been finished. Which, Meek knew, should have meant that some solution had been reached, some point won, some advantage gained. But so far as Meek could see from study of the diagrams there was not even a purpose or a problem, let alone a solution or a point. The whole thing was squirrely. But, Meek told himself, it fitted in. where they had become so diluted that ordinary space armor filtered them out, they made possible the medical magic of the famous radiation moss. on kindlier worlds, it wilted and refused to grow. The radiations had been analyzed, Meek knew, and reproduced under laboratory conditions, but there still was something missing, some vital, elusive factor that could not be analyzed. Under the artificial radiation, the moss still wilted and died. And because Earth needed the moss to cure a dozen maladies and because The bugs had started the game and Meek craned forward cautiously, watching eagerly, stylus poised above the notebook. Crawling clumsily, the tiny insect-like creatures moved about, solemnly popping in and out of holes. If there were opposing sides ... and if it were a game, there'd have to be ... they didn't seem to alternate the moves. Although, Meek admitted, certain rules and conditions which he had failed to note or recognize, might determine the number and order of moves allowed each side. Suddenly there was confusion on the board. For a moment a half-dozen of were on the move again, orderly again, but retracing their movements, going back several plays beyond the point of confusion. Just as one would do when one made a mistake working a mathematical thrown him off. Games! Those bugs weren't playing any game. They were solving mathematical equations! Meek leaned forward to watch, forgetting where he was. One of the "Gus will give me hell for this," he told himself. Gus shook the small wooden box thoughtfully, listening to the frantic welfare lady should go over and talk to Bud. She must of laid it on thick, too, about how we should settle down and behave ourselves and all that. Otherwise Bud never would have given her that injector." the same again. If we don't watch out, we'll find ourselves being polite to one another." cusses in the whole dang system. Just like chiggers back on Earth." "Chiggers," Meek told him, "burrow into a person to lay eggs." "Maybe these things do, too," Gus contended. The radio on the mantel blared a warning signal, automatically tuning in our own Saturnian system. A space polo game. To be played by two polo. For the outcome of that game will decide, forever, the supremacy

<question>:
What did Miss Perkins do to organize the polo game?

<options>:
A Explained the glory of sport to Gus as a way to claim victories
B Had a mediation session with Bud Cranery and Gus
C Posted signs around the mechanic stops on Saturn
D Her methods were unclear

<answer>:

D