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

<passage>:
to give him the key to the ancient city of Kal-Jmar—a city of untold wealth, and of robots that made desires instant commands. [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Planet Stories Winter 1944. and concluded that he must have reached Lillis. After that, his only to get off Mars, because his trail was warm, and the Patrol thorough. and a hard, determined thrust to his firm jaw. "All right," the boy said quietly. "What is it?" "I don't understand," Syme said. intersection, and then followed again more cautiously. It was risky, but there was no other way. The signatures, the data, platform, and saw the bright-blue pinpoint of Earth. The sight stirred a touch of nostalgia in him, as it always did, but he put it aside. The boy was hunched over the circular balustrade a little distance silent figure. It was over in a minute. The boy whirled as he came up, warned by some slight sound, or by the breath of Syme's passage in the still air. He opened his mouth to shout, and brought up his arm in a swift, he realized what had happened—one of the hooks on the dead spaceman's harness had caught the heavy wristband of his chronometer. He was falling, linked to the body of his victim! Hardly knowing what he did, he lashed out wildly with his other arm, felt his fingertips catch and bite into the edge of the balustrade. His little and Syme's fingers slipped a little with each motion. Gritting his teeth, he brought the magnificent muscles of his arm into play, raising the forearm against the dead weight of the dangling body. Fraction by slow fraction of an inch, it came up. Syme could feel the He heard running footsteps, and then a pale face peered over the ledge at him. He realized suddenly that the whole incident could have taken only a few seconds. He croaked, "Get me up." Wordlessly, the man clasped thin fingers around his wrist. The other pulled, with much puffing and panting, and with his help Syme managed to get a leg over the edge and hoist his trembling body to safety. "Are you all right?" elevator, then stopped. "Oh—your bag. Shouldn't we do something about that?" "Never mind," said Syme, taking his arm. "The shock must have busted it friendly toward the slender, mouse-like man across the table. It was the were always jobs open. Meanwhile, he might as well enjoy himself, and it was safer to be seen with a companion than to be alone. He listened lazily to what the other was saying, leaning his tall, graceful body back into the softly-cushioned seat. need a guide. D'you know this part of Mars well?" in its influence, propelling themselves by the motion of their delicately-webbed feet and trailing long gauzy streamers of synthesilk after them. Syme watched them through narrowed lids, feeling the glow of culcha Kal-Jmar was the riddle of the Solar System. It was the only remaining city of the ancient Martian race—the race that, legends said, had the artifacts, the records of the Martians were all there, perfectly above and below the ground, and tunneling was of no avail. No one knew what had happened to the Martians, whether they were the ancestors of the present decadent Martian race, or a different species. No one knew In the early days, when the conquest of Mars was just beginning, Earth had tried everything they knew to pierce the wall. bloody uprising of the present-day Martians—resulting in a rapid dwindling of the number of Martians—the Mars Protectorate had stepped Earthman to go near the place. And so he had made his first trip to Mars, and within twenty-four hours, by the blindest of chances, blurted out his secret to Syme strap on your gun." "Why. Are they really dangerous?" they think differently. They breathe like us, down in their caverns where there's air, but they also eat sand, and get their oxygen that When the first colonists came here, they had to learn language. Every word of it can mean any one of a dozen different things, depending on the inflection you give it. I can speak it some, but not much. Nobody can. We don't think the same." "They might The hills were much closer than they had seemed, because of Mars' revealed itself to be attached to a length of thick, very strong wire cable, with a control cord inside. They inched down the almost vertical incline, unreeling the cable behind them, and starting minor landslides how do we get up again?" toward them. "My God!" he said. "What are those?" Syme looked. "Those," he said bitterly, "are Martians." The natives, like all Martian fauna, were multi-legged. Also like all Martian fauna, they moved so fast that you couldn't see how many legs helped to take care of the extremes of Martian temperature. Right now Martians. One Martian, who looked exactly like all the rest, stepped forward and motioned unmistakably for the two to come out. He waited a moment and then gestured with his energy gun. That gun, Syme knew from experience, The Martian leader looked at them enigmatically, then turned and switched his helmet microphone from radio over to the audio membrane on the outside of the helmet. " Kalis methra ," he began haltingly, " "Yes, there is air here," said the Martian leader, startlingly. "Not "I thought you said they didn't speak Terrestrial," Tate said. Syme "We had our reasons for not doing so," the Martian said. "But how—?" "We are telepaths, of course. On a planet which is nearly airless on its surface, we have to be. A tendency of the Terrestrial mind is to ignore the obvious. We have not had a spoken language of our own for several thousand years." right," he said. "The language you and your fellows struggled to learn is a fraud, a hodge-podge concocted to deceive you." "You had nothing to give us," the Martian said simply. "No," the Martian interrupted him, "revealing the extent of our thought you were taking it from equals or not." "Never mind that," Syme broke in impatiently. "What do you want with The Martian looked at him appraisingly. "You already suspect. the Martians from knowing about it? Then he realized that the Martian Syme noticed that the other Martians had retired to the farther side of from them, holding the Benson gun trained on them. Syme tried not to think about the gun, especially about making a grab for it. It was like unconcerned, but his hands were trembling slightly. "First why—" he began. "There are many secrets in Kal-Jmar," the Martian said, "among them a Mars to a planet with Terrestrially-thick atmosphere." You couldn't have that, of course." He sighed deeply. He spread his gloved hands before him and looked at them with a queer intentness. "Well—how about the Martians—the Kal-Jmar Martians, I mean? I'd dearly love to know the answer to that "We hope to win yet," the Martian said. The Martian lowered his head. "That is for unborn generations." He sights of the Martian's Benson gun, and suddenly the pent-up rage in Martian. It was like tangling with a draft horse. The Martian was astonishingly tear it out of the Martian's fingers. And all the time he could almost feel the Martian's telepathic call for help surging out. He heard the swift pad of his followers coming across the cavern. power. He roared his fury. And the gun twisted out of the Martian's iron grip! He clubbed the prostrate leader with it instantly, then reversed the weapon and snapped a shot at the nearest Martian. The creature dropped the rest in two terrible, lightning sweeps of his ray, then dropped the weapon from blistered fingers.

<question>:
How do Martians communicate among themselves?

<options>:
A Complicated Martian language that Earthlings can’t decipher
B Mind reading
C They speak Terrestrial language
D Hand signals

<answer>:

B