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

<passage>:
why ?" Despite his sudden irrational anger toward her, Maitland tried to stick what ?" She smiled. "In a room downstairs there is the head of a lion. Swarts . We are terribly interested in what Maitland stared at her, his face blank. His mind had just manufactured a discouraging analogy. His present position was like that of an earnest 12th Century crusader, deposited by some freak of nature into in vain that the atomic bomb offered a means of finally destroying the infidel.... Maitland looked up at the girl, who was regarding him silently with made an unimpressive figure. The fellow looked about forty-five. The first details Maitland noticed were the forehead, which was quite broad, and the calm, clear eyes. Impassively, the man said, "My name is Swarts. You want to know where you are. I am not going to tell you." He had an accent, European, but otherwise unidentifiable. Possibly German. Maitland opened his mouth across the ceiling and came to a focus above the high flat cot in the center of the room. "Lie down," Swarts said. When Maitland hesitated, Swarts added, "Understand one thing—the more you cooperate, the easier things will be for you. If necessary, I will use coercion. I can get all my results me." "What's the idea?" Maitland asked. "What is all this?" Swarts hesitated, though not, Maitland astonishedly felt, to evade an answer, but to find the proper words. "You can think of it as a lie Maitland stood there for a moment, deliberately relaxing his tensed muscles. "Make me." If Swarts was irritated, he didn't show it. "That was the first test," he said. "Let me put it another way. I would appreciate it a lot if you'd lie down on this cot. I would like to test my apparatus." Maitland shook his head stubbornly. "I see," Swarts said. "You want to find out what you're up against." He moved so fast that Maitland couldn't block the blow. It was to the solar plexus, just hard enough to double him up, fighting for breath. clamped to the frame of the cot. Another cable left the box and joined the others. So—Maitland thought—Swarts could record changes in his skin potential, heartbeat, and blood pressure: the involuntary responses of the body to stimuli. The question was, what were the stimuli to be? "Your name," said Swarts, "is Robert Lee Maitland. You are thirty-four years old. You are an engineer, specialty heat transfer, particularly as applied to rocket motors.... No, Mr. Maitland, I'm not going to you mean?" Swarts was chuckling. "I really hit a semantic push-button there, didn't I? Maitland, I brought you here because you're a man who wants She was looking at him with palpable curiosity and something like expectancy. Maitland sighed and said, "Hello," then glanced down could formulate any plan or policy. Where was he? Who was Swarts? What was the purpose of the "tests" he was being given? It was possible, of course, that this was all an elaborate scheme for getting military secrets, despite Swarts' protestations to the contrary. Maitland frowned. This place certainly didn't have the appearance of a military establishment, and so far there had been Maitland felt his worry drain away, leaving an almost mystical sense of peace and an undefinable longing. he lay on the bed, still warm with excitement and relief. He didn't have to worry any more about military secrets, or who Swarts was. Those questions were irrelevant now. And now he could accept the fellow had said that he didn't need cooperation to get his results, but— After a while Maitland smiled to himself and went back to bed. He woke in the morning with someone gently shaking his shoulder. He rolled over and looked up at the girl who had brought him his meal the Startlingly, she laughed, a mellow peal of mirth that had nothing forced about it. She turned toward the door again and said over her shoulder, "You will have to ask Swarts about that. I cannot tell you." "Wait! You mean you don't know?" She shook her head. "I cannot tell you." we'll let it go at that." She grinned at him again as the door slid shut. Swarts came half an hour later, and Maitland began his planned offensive. "What year is this?" Swarts' steely eyes locked with his. "You know what the date is," he stated. "No, I don't. Not since yesterday." "Come on," Swarts said patiently, "let's get going. We have a lot to "Never mind that. Come." Wordlessly, Maitland climbed to his feet, preceded Swarts to the laboratory, lay down and allowed him to fasten the straps and attach the instruments, making no resistance at all. When Swarts started saying a list of words—doubtlessly some sort of semantic reaction test—Maitland began the job of integrating "csc It was a calculation which required great concentration and frequent tracing back of steps. After several minutes, he noticed that Swarts had stopped calling words. He opened his eyes to find the other man "What year is this?" Maitland asked in a conversational tone. "We'll try another series of tests." It took Swarts nearly twenty minutes to set up the new apparatus. He lowered a bulky affair with two cylindrical tubes like the twin stacks of a binocular microscope over Maitland's head, so that the lenses at declared excruciatingly that they couldn't keep that up. Now he was looking at a girl. She.... Maitland gritted his teeth and fought to use his brain then he had it. He thought of a fat slob of a bully who had beaten him up one day Swarts in standing by his silly rules and not telling him about this new world. Within a minute, he was in an ungovernable rage. His muscles tightened against the restraining straps. He panted, sweat came out on his forehead, and he began to curse. Swarts! How he hated.... swollen and he writhed against the restraint of the straps. The scene disappeared, the lenses of the projector retreated from his eyes and Swarts was standing over him, white-lipped. Maitland swore at him for a few seconds, then relaxed and smiled weakly. His head was starting to ache from the effort of blinking. "What year is this?" he asked. "All right," Swarts said. "A.D. 2634." Maitland's smile became a grin. "I really haven't the time to waste talking irrelevancies," Swarts said a while later. "Honestly. Maitland, I'm working against a time limit. If you'll cooperate, I'll tell Ching to answer your questions."' "Ching?" "Ingrid Ching is the girl who has been bringing you your meals." Maitland considered a moment, then nodded. Swarts lowered the projector to his eyes again, and this time the engineer did not resist. That evening, he could hardly wait for her to come. Too excited to sit "I think you are wonderful," she laughed. "You get everything you want, even from Swarts, and I have not been able to get even a little of what I want from him. I want to travel in time, go back to your 20th lot better." She shrugged. "Swarts says that I want to go back to the Dark Age of Technology because I have not adapted well to modern culture. Myself, Maitland wrinkled his brow. "Afrikander?" "The South Africans." Something strange came into her eyes. It might have been awe, or even hatred

<question>:
What was the relationship like between Maitland and Swarts over the course of the story?

<options>:
A Swarts never really allowed himself to be known by Maitland
B Maitland doesn’t believe Swarts is telling the truth about where he is
C Maitland suspected it was Swarts that had kidnapped him, and he trusted that no harm would be done to him
D They did not get along at first, but Maitland come to understand Swarts much better and even empathize with what he had to do

<answer>:

A