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

<passage>:
Blane and Splinter Wood, their space-ship wrecked, could not follow orders—their weapons were useless on the Water-world. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] Old Kerry Blane exploded. "Damn it!" he roared. "I don't like you and I don't like this ship "Seems to me, Kerry," he remarked humorously, "that you don't like much of anything!" Kerry Blane growled unintelligibly, batted the injector lever with a calloused hand. His grizzled hair was a stiff wiry mop on his small head, and his oversize jaw was thrust belligerently forward. But deep "Better take one of these," he warned. "You're liable to get the space bends at any moment." Old Kerry Blane snorted, batted the box aside impatiently, scowled moodily at the capsules that bounced for a moment against the pilot room's walls before hanging motionless in the air. Kerry Blane lit one of the five allotted cigarettes of the day. "Don't 'tsk' me, you young squirt," he grunted around a mouthful of fragrant smoke. "I know all the arguments you can put up gave a false impression of awkwardness. While the vitriolic Kerry Blane was short and compact, strength and quickness evident in every movement. Kerry Blane had flown every type of ship that rode in space. In the had flown them with increasing skill, had earned a reputation as a trouble shooter on any kind of craft. But even Kerry Blane had to retire eventually. A great retirement banquet had been given in his honor by the dressed in civilian clothes for the first time in forty years, that he realized the enormity of the thing that had happened to his life. Something died within Kerry Blane's heart that morning, shriveled and passed away, leaving him suddenly shrunken and old. He had become like a rusty old freighter couched between the gleaming bodies of great Blane's heart, and he had taken the youngster in hand to give him the benefits of experience that had become legendary. Splinter Wood was a probationary pilot, had been admitted to the Interplanetary Squadron's Medical Division. "Ten to one we don't get back!" Splinter said pessimistically. Kerry Blane scrubbed out his cigarette, scowled bleakly at the instrument panel. He sensed the faint thread of fear in the youngster's tone, and a nostalgic twinge touched his heart, for he was remembering You've got orders to take care of me ?" Kerry Blane choked incoherently for a moment, red tiding cholerically upward from his loosened collar. "Of course!" Splinter grinned. Kerry Blane exploded, words spewing volcanically forth. Splinter relaxed, his booted foot beating out a dull rhythm to the colorful language learned through almost fifty years of spacing. And at last, when Kerry Blane had quieted until he but smoldered, he leaned over and touched the old spacer on the sleeve. the warmth of their friendship was a tangible thing in the small control-room of the cruiser. And in the midst of their laughter, Old Kerry Blane choked in agony, surged desperately against his bunk straps. He screamed unknowingly, feeling only the horrible excruciating agony His long hands played over the instrument panel, checking, controlling the rocket fire, adjusting delicate instruments to hairline marks. Kerry Blane nodded in silent approval. They could feel the first tug of gravity on their bodies, and through which the ship dropped toward the planet. replaced by heavier fingers of cloud. Kerry Blane pressed a firing stud, and nose rockets thrummed in a rising crescendo as the free fall of the cruiser was checked. Heat rose in the cabin from the friction of only a gray blankness pressing about the ship. Gone was all sense of movement, and the ship seemed to hover in a gray nothingness. Kerry Blane crouched over the control panel, his hands moving deftly, his eyes flicking from one instrument to another. Tiny lines of concentration etched themselves about his mouth, and perspiration time the incredible instinct that had made Kerry Blane the idol of a billion people. He relaxed visibly, all instinctive fear allayed by the Kerry Blane heard Splinter's instant sigh of unbelief. "Good Lord!" Splinter said, "What—" His voice stilled, and he was silent, his eyes drinking in the weird "Orders are orders!" Kerry Blane shrugged. He swung the cruiser in a wide arc to the north, trebling the flying speed within minutes, handling the controls with a familiar dexterity. Blane's automatic grimace of distaste. Then he yawned hugely, twisted into a comfortable position, dozed sleepily. Kerry Blane rode the controls for the next three hours, searching the limitless ocean for the few specks of islands that followed the slow have to lift the ship in a hell of a hurry." "Right!" Splinter's fingers were all thumbs in his excitement. Kerry Blane set the controls for a shallow glide, his fingers moving like a concert pianist's. The cruiser yawed slightly, settled slowly in a flat shallow glide. lodged in the slot. There was the sharp splutter of a short-circuit, and a thin tendril of smoke drifted upward. "Damn!" Kerry Blane swore briefly. cruiser hurtled toward the beach like a gravity-crazed comet. Kerry Blane said absolutely nothing, his breath driven from him by the suck of inertia. His hands darted for the controls, seeking to balance the forces that threw the ship about like a toy. He cut all rockets force against the control panel. They groped feebly for support, their bodies twisting involuntarily, as the ship cartwheeled a dozen times in stop against a moss-grown boulder at the water's edge. III Kerry Blane choked, tried to turn his head from the water that trickled into his face. He opened his eyes, stared blankly, uncomprehendingly into the bloody features of the man bending over him. "I thought you were dead!" he said simply. Kerry Blane moved his arm experimentally, felt broken bones grate in an exquisite wave of pain. He fought back the nausea, gazed about the cabin, realized the ship lay on its side. Kerry Blane nodded, clambered to his feet, favoring his broken arm. He leaned over the control panel, inspecting the dials with a worried gaze. Slowly, his eyes lightened, and his voice was almost cheerful as the next, Blooey!" Anger suddenly mottled Kerry Blane's face he swore monotonously and bitterly for a moment. "Those gol-damned pills you been taking caused the crash!" he roared. Blane grinned. "Forget it, lad," he said more kindly, "those things happen. Now, if you'll bind a splint about my arm, we'll see what we can do about splints for minutes. Great beads of perspiration stood out in high relief on Kerry Blane's forehead, but he made no sound. At last, Splinter finished, tucked the supplies away. He swung lithely from the portal, reached down a hand to help the older man. After much puffing and grunting, Kerry Blane managed to hand to aid Kerry Blane's descent. Kerry Blane came down slowly and awkwardly, jumped the last few feet. He felt surprisingly light and strong in the lesser gravity. "The crash must have broken something," Kerry Blane said slowly. Splinter shook his head. "There's only one moving part," he said, "and

<question>:
Why does their spacecraft crash?

<options>:
A Wood makes a mistake and pulls the wrong switch
B The ship crashes because it runs on solar power and there is no sunlight on Venus
C A capsule gets stuck in the controls, causing them to stop working
D Blane loses control of the craft due to the arthritis in his fingers

<answer>:

C