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

<passage>:
FOLLOWS STOP TRS CLEOPATRA AND ALL ATTACHED AND OR ASSIGNED PERSONNEL change over to prime-space could be effected. According to Bayne's calculations, 40 Eridani C would be within 40,000,000 miles of them large and small, lay in a globular cluster dead ahead. They spread out in all directions for more than half a parsec ... dull, rocky little Strike shook his head. Lieutenant Whitley looked crestfallen. "Then perhaps old Brass-bottom Gorman means some other guy named Strykalski?" To Cob, eight Martinis made anything possible. "Could there be two Strykalskis?" demanded the owner of the name under discussion. "No." Whitley sighed unhappily. "And there's only one Tellurian Rocket Ship Cleopatra in the Combined Solarian Navies, bless her little iron rump! Gorman means us. And I think we've been had, that's what I think!" "Tethys isn't so bad," protested Strike. they had worked together to pull Admiral Gorman's flagship Cleopatra to Tethys for to be treated with respect." He affected a very knowing expression. "Besides, we shouldn't be gallivanting around testing Ivy's electronic eyelash-curlers when the Eridans are likely to be swooshing around old Sol any day!" "Cob, you're drunk!" snapped Celia. "I am at that," mused Whitley with a foolish grin. "And I'd better enjoy it. There'll be no Martinis on Tethys, that's for sure! This cruise is going to interfere with my research on ancient twentieth century potables..." Strike heaved his lanky frame upright. "Well, I suppose we'd better call the crew in." He turned to Cob. "Who is Officer of the Deck tonight?" "Bayne." "Celia, you'd better go relieve him. He'll have to work all night to get us an orbit plotted." the crew. If any of them are in the brig, let me know. I'll be on the over. Welders and physicists, naval architects and shipfitters, all began again. Ivy, as a former member of the Cleopatra's crew, was one a twenty-day leave!" "And why was the Cleopatra chosen?" added Celia curiously. "Well, I'll make it short," Ivy said. "We're going to make a hyper-ship out of her." star-fields ... star-fields that were utterly different and ... and alien "Why us?" Cob asked thoughtfully. "I'll answer that," offered Strike, "Lover-Girl's a surge circuit monitor, and it's a safe bet this operation takes plenty of power." He Strike felt the bottom dropping out of his stomach, and he knew that all the others felt the same. If this was a war, they were the ones the group-mind.... He heard himself saying sharply into Ivy's communicator: "See to it that my ship is fueled and armed for space within three hours!" "Hold on, Strike!" Ivy Hendricks intervened, "What about the tests?" "I'm temporarily under Research and Development command, Ivy, but a warship and there's a war on now. If you can have your gear jerry-rigged in three hours, you can come along and test it when we have the chance. Otherwise the hell with it!" Strykalski's face was dead set. "I mean it, Ivy." "All right, Strike. I'll be ready," Ivy Hendricks said coolly. Exactly three hours and five minutes later, the newly created reconnoiter the 40 Eridani C system of five planets. Strykalski added rather dryly that it was likely to be the former, since Space Admiral Gorman had no great affection for either the or her crew. Ivy Hendricks joined them after stowing her gear, and when Whitley toward the enlisted man at the helm. "Quarter-master?" "Steady as she goes." "Yes, sir." "And that," shrugged Ivy Hendricks, "Is that." Three weeks passed in the timeless limbo of second-order flight. Blast tubes silent, the Cleopatra rode the curvature of space toward Eridanus. At eight and a half light years from Sol, the second-order was cut so that Bayne could get a star sight. As the lights of the celestial globe slowly retreated from their unnatural grouping ahead the Dog Star, its fourteen heavy-gravity planets were plainly visible through the electron telescope. Strykalski and Ivy Hendricks stood beside Bayne in the dorsal blister "No, sir. The density index indicates spacecraft. High value in the chlorine lines...." "Eridans!" cried Ivy. "What's the range, Celia?" demanded Strike. "And how many of them are there?" The sound of the calculator came through the grill. Then Celia replied: "Range 170,000 miles, and there are more than fifty and less than two hundred. That's the best I can do from this far away. They seem to formation." Strike cursed. "They've spotted us and they want to scoop us in with "Right here, Captain," came Cob Whitley's voice from the bridge. "Shift into second-order! We'll have to try and run their net!" "Yes, sir," Whitley snapped. "Communications!" called Strike. "Communications here." for any of them ... and she dug her fingernails into her palms trying not to be afraid. years of training were guiding him now. "Gun deck!" A feminine voice replied. "Check your accumulators. We may have to fight. Have the gun-pointers get the plots from Radar. And load fish into all tubes." "Radar!" "Right here, Skipper!" "We're going into second-order, Celia. Use UV Radar and keep tabs on them." "Yes, Captain." Strike turned to Ivy Hendricks. "Let's get back to the bridge, Ivy. It's going to be a hell of a rough half hour!" As they turned to go, all the pin-points of light that were the stars vanished, only to reappear in distorted groups ahead and behind the ship. They were in second-order flight again, and traveling above light world were a dull red shrunken sun shone dimly through fetid air, the thing that was the group-mind of the Eridans guided the thousand leathery tentacles that controlled the hundred and fifty black her rifles to wreak havoc among her attackers. Being non-entities in themselves, and only limbs of the single circuit, his blood heated by the turbulent cacophony of crackling rays and exploding torpedoes. "Hit 'em! Damn it! Damn it, hit 'em now! Dead ahead! Hit 'em again!..." only chance ... for Lover-Girl and Ivy and Cob and Celia ... for all of them. He had to chance it. "Ivy!" he called over his shoulder, "Check with Engineering! See if the thing's hooked into the surge circuit!" glowing !" by a continuous shower of microscopic fire bombs. Whitley found refuge in his favorite expression. "Ye gods and little from their kind. He felt rejected, scorned and lost. The others felt it, too. Ivy and Cob drew closer, until all three stood touching each other as though they could dispel the loneliness of the space ... and the danger of the questing Eridans ... that kept one or all from crying out in utter childish fear. Celia Graham whimpered them. "Cob," Strike directed with forced briskness, "Take over Damage Control. See what can be done about the second-order drive." They fell silent, seeking comfort in each other's presence. The second-order drive repaired, Old Aphrodisiac moved out through the alien space toward the spot where 40 Eridani C existed on the other side of the barrier.

<question>:
How many people are in charge of plotting navigational waypoints along the journey?

<options>:
A One
B Two
C Zero
D Three

<answer>:

A