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

<passage>:
soul-tearing tunes of his fiendish piping. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] In all the solar system there is no city quite like Mercis, capital of Mars. Solis, on Venus, is perhaps more beautiful, some cities of Earth certainly have more drive and dynamitism, but there is a strange inscrutable air about Mercis which even terrestials of twenty years' residence cannot explain. Outwardly a tourists' mecca, with white plastoid buildings, rich gardens, and whispering canals, it has another and darker side, ever present, ever hidden. While earthmen work and plan, building, repairing, bringing their vast energy and progress to decadent Mars, the silent little reddies go their devious ways, following ancient laws which no amount of terrestial logic can shake. Time-bound ritual, mysterious passions and hates, torturous, devious logic ... all these, like dark winding underground streams run beneath the tall fair city that brings such thrilled superlatives to the lips of the terrestial tourists. Steve Ranson, mounting the steps of the old house facing the Han Intelligence had brought him here often in the past, on other strange little reddies, keeping the terrestial-imposed peace on the red planet. And when Jared Haller sent to Earth for one of the Terrestial Intelligence, that silent efficient corps of trouble-shooters, something was definitely up. The house was provided with double doors as protection against the Ranson passed the conventional electric eye and a polite robot voice books. As Ranson entered, he swung about, frowning, one hand dropping "Ranson, Terrestial Intelligence." The special agent offered his card. his way through life by sheer force and drive. But as Ranson looked quickly, Mr. Ranson!" ." Ranson wondered headquarters in New York hadn't known why a T.I. man was wanted on Mars ... but Haller was one of the few persons sufficiently important Ranson put it directly. "Why did you require the help of T.I., Mr. told what crime had taken place. This time Ranson applied the spur of "Mr. Ranson," Haller leaned forward, his face a gray grim mask, Ranson nodded, eyes intent as the pattern unfolded. Legion. It'd be a cinch." "But," ... Ranson frowned ... "this is only an interesting supposition. The reddies are civilized, peaceful." "Outwardly," Haller snapped. "But what do you or any other earthmen "Suicide, insanity, heart attack." Ranson shrugged. "All perfectly outside, they could hear the vague rumbling of the city, with the distant swish of canal boats, the staccato roar of rockets as some earth-bound freighter leaped from the spaceport. Familiar, homey sounds, these, but beneath them, like an undercurrent of madness, ran the macabre melody. Neither man moved. Ranson knew all the tricks of visual hypnotism, the embankment were great fragrant clumps of fayeh bushes. It was among wild music. Berserk rage sounded in each shivering note and Ranson felt Turning, Ranson found himself face to face with Jared Haller. But the The end came with startling suddenness. Ranson, twisting his opponent's childhood, the voices of those beyond life.... Ranson walked stiffly Like a sleepwalker he climbed to the sill, stood outlined in the tall window. Twenty feet to the ground, almost certain death ... but Ranson stopped. Ranson shook himself, like a man awakening from a nightmare, disappeared among the twisting narrow streets. Bathed in cold sweat, Ranson stepped back into the room, where the still, terrible form of raced through the house, toward the study. And then, his brain weary as motioned to the two gray-uniformed patrolmen. "Take Mr. Ranson." Ranson took the key from the massive plastic door as he backed his pocket, he ran swiftly down the corridor to the main entrance of Free of headquarters, Ranson began to run. Only a few moments, he knew, before Maxwell and his men blasted a way to freedom, set out in pursuit. Like a lean gray shadow Ranson ran, twisting, dodging, among the narrow streets, heading toward Haller's house. Mercis was a dream city in the wan light of the moons. One in either side of the heavens, they threw weird double shadows across the rippling canals, the aimless streets. Sleek canal-cabs roared along the dark waterways, throwing up clouds of spray, and on the embankments, green-eyed, bulge-headed little reddies padded, silent, inscrutable, themselves a part of the eternal mystery of Mars. Haller's house stood dark and brooding beside the canal. Captain Maxwell's men had completed their examination and the place was deserted. Ranson stepped into the shadow of the clump of fragrant danger, he felt, of patrolmen hunting for him at Haller's house. Ranson tapped the cane carefully upon the ground, avoiding those places Ranson now carried. ground like a blind man, eyes on the dial. Along the embankment, into a side street, he made his way. There were few abroad in this old quarter of the city from the spaceport came the roar of freighters, the rumble of machinery, but here in the narrow winding streets there was only the As Ranson plunged further into the old Martian quarter, the trail grew every square foot of the street before the R-2340-B on the dial showed that he had once more picked up the faint elusive scent. Deeper and deeper Ranson plunged into the dark slums of Mercis. Smoky gambling dens, dives full of drunken spacehands and slim red-skinned girls, maudlin singing ... even the yellow glare of the forbidden san-rays, as they filtered through drawn windows. Unsteady figures made their way along the streets. Mighty-thewed Jovian blasters, languid Venusians, boisterous earthmen ... and the little Martians padding softly along, wrapped in their loose dust-robes. At the end of an alley where the purple shadows lay like stagnant pools, Ranson paused. The alley was a cul-de-sac, which meant that the person he was trailing must have entered one of the houses. Very of the dilapidated, dome-shaped houses. Ranson's eyes narrowed. So the light jetted through a half-open door. Ranson moved toward it, silent black fluid did not so much as waver at Ranson's entrance. Ranson gasped. The bizarre figure was that of Dr. Elath Taen, master-scientist, sought by the T.I. for years, in vain! Elath Taen, outlaw and renegade, whose sole desire was the extermination of all terrestials on Mars, a revival of the ancient glories of the red "Good evening, Mr. Ranson," Elath Taen smiled. "Had I known T.I. at Ranson. Quick as he was, the T.I. man was quicker. A spurt of "Well done, Mr. Ranson." Elath Taen nodded calmly. "Had the acid struck Taen! We're going to headquarters!" "Since you insist." Elath Taen removed his chemist's smock, began, very "Exactly, Mr. Ranson." Elath Taen smiled thinly. "Listen!" "Come ... come on," Ranson said thickly. "Got to get out of here." But his words held no force, and Elath Taen was nodding sleepily under Across the laboratory Elath Taen had slumped to the floor, a vague smile of triumph on his face. Ranson turned to the direction of Taen, the laboratory, all faded into a kaleidoscopic whirl. Ranson felt

<question>:
What would best describe the setting of the city that Mr. Ranson travelled through to get to the house Elath Taen resided in?

<options>:
A An aging and unkept part of the city.
B A private yet dangerous part of the city.
C A deserted and decayed part of the city.
D The suburbs of the city.

<answer>:

A