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

<passage>:
Mr. Meek Plays Polo By CLIFFORD D. SIMAK Mr. Meek was having his troubles. First, the educated bugs worried him Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that It added, as an afterthought, in shaky, inexpert lettering: spectacles, finally deciphered its scrawl: Ask About Educated Bugs. A bit bewildered, but determined not to show it, Meek swung away from less. Here in its approximate center, were two buildings, both of almost identical construction, semi-spherical and metal. Out here, Meek The other, according to the crudely painted legend smeared above its leveled off the humps and irregularities so spaceships could sit down. Two ships now were on the field, pulled up close against the repair shop. One, Meek noticed, belonged to the Solar Health and Welfare Department, the other to the Galactic Pharmaceutical Corporation. The Galactic ship was a freighter, ponderous and slow. It was here, Meek knew, to take on a cargo of radiation moss. But the other was a puzzler. Meek wrinkled his brow and blinked his eyes, trying to figure out what a welfare ship would be doing in this remote corner of the Solar System. Slowly and carefully, Meek clumped toward the squat repair shop. Once or twice he stumbled, hoping fervently he wouldn't get the feet of his cumbersome spacesuit all tangled up. The gravity was slight, next to "Like dewdrops in the black of space," Meek mumbled to himself. But he immediately felt ashamed of himself for growing poetic. This sector of space, he knew, was not in the least poetic. It was hard and savage and Reaching the repair shop's entrance lock, he braced himself solidly to keep his balance, reached out and pressed a buzzer. Swiftly the lock spun outward and a moment later Meek had passed through the entrance vault and stepped into the office. A dungareed mechanic sat tilted in a chair against a wall, feet on the desk, a greasy cap pushed back on his head. Meek stamped his feet gratefully, pleased at feeling Earth gravity under him again. He lifted the hinged helmet of his suit back on his shoulders. "You are the gentleman who can fix things?" he asked the mechanic. The mechanic stared. Here was no hell-for-leather freighter pilot, no be-whiskered roamer of the outer orbits. Meek's hair was white and stuck out in uncombed tufts in a dozen directions. His skin was pale. His blue eyes looked watery behind the thick lenses that rode his nose. Meek tried again. "I saw the sign. It said you could fix anything. So I...." The mechanic shook himself. in clouds of the stuff. Thicker than hell when you reach the Rings. Lots of ships pull in with punctures. Won't take no time." Meek cleared his throat uneasily. "I'm afraid it's more than a puncture. A pebble got into the instruments. Washed out some of them." The mechanic clucked sympathetically. "You're lucky. Tough job to bring in a ship without all the instruments. Must have a honey of a navigator." "I haven't got a navigator," Meek said, quietly. Meek gulped and nodded. "Dead reckoning," he said. The mechanic glowed with sudden admiration. "I don't know who you are, mister," he declared, "but whoever you are, you're the best damn pilot that ever took to space." "Really I'm not," said Meek. "I haven't done much piloting, you see. Up until just a while ago, I never had left Earth. Bookkeeper for Lunar Exports." ship like that?" "I learned it," said Meek. "You learned it?" "Sure, from a book. I saved my money and I studied. I always wanted to Inn . Tell Moe I sent you. They'll treat you right." "Thank you," said Meek, "but there's something else I'm wondering about. There was another sign out there. Something about educated bugs." sure run him ragged. First year they almost drove him loopy trying to figure out what kind of game they were playing." "Game?" asked Meek, wondering if he was being hoaxed. figured out, they'd change the rules and throw him off again." "That doesn't make sense," protested Meek. come along with it, see." "This Gus Hamilton," said Meek. "I'd like to see him. Where could I find him?" "Go over to the "My opinion, sir," said Oliver Meek, "seldom amounts to much." "All we want to know," Gus told him, "is what you think of space polo." "Space polo," declared Meek, "is a noble game. It requires expert piloting, a fine sense of timing and...." "Oh, them," said Gus. "Yes," said Meek, "I'm interested in them. I'd like to see them." "See them," said Gus. "Mister, you can have them if you want them. Meek looked crestfallen. "Can't get near them, then," he said. "Sure you can," said Gus. "Why not?" Meek gulped. He could imagine what stilt walking would be like in a place where gravity was no more than the faintest whisper. III rock, eased himself slowly and warily against the face of a knob of stone that jutted from the surface. Even in his youth, Meek remembered, he never had been any great shakes on stilts. Here, on this bucking, weaving rock, with slick surfaces and practically no gravity, a man had to be an expert to handle them. Meek knew now he was no expert. A half-dozen dents in his space armor was ample proof of that. Comfortably braced against the upjutting of stone, Meek dug into the pouch of his space gear, brought out a notebook and stylus. Flipping the pages, he stared, frowning, at the diagrams that covered them. None of the diagrams made sense. They showed the patterns of three But so far as Meek could see from study of the diagrams there was not even a purpose or a problem, let alone a solution or a point. The whole thing was squirrely. But, Meek told himself, it fitted in. rickety spacecraft flared, who went mad with nothing to do, with the mockery of space before them. Meek shrugged his shoulders, almost upsetting himself. The bugs had started the game and Meek craned forward cautiously, watching eagerly, stylus poised above the notebook. popping in and out of holes. If there were opposing sides ... and if it were a game, there'd have to be ... they didn't seem to alternate the moves. Although, Meek problem ... going back to the point of error and going on again from there. "Well, I'll be...." Mr. Meek said. Meek stiffened and the stylus floated out of his hand, settled softly on the rock below. A mathematical problem! mathematical equations! Meek leaned forward to watch, forgetting where he was. One of the stilts slipped out of position and Meek felt himself start to fall. He dropped the notebook and frantically clawed at empty space. The other stilt went, then, and Meek found himself floating slowly downward, gravity weak but inexorable. His struggle to retain his out into space, heading for the rock where the lights from the ports of Hamilton's shack blinked with the weaving of the rock. Oliver Meek shut his eyes and groaned. "Wouldn't it, though," declared Gus. Meek squinted his eyes and pounced on the floor, scrabbling on hands and knees after a scurrying thing that twinkled in the lamplight. "The sporting event, ladies and gentlemen, that is being talked up and so it really doesn't matter. The only thing that matters is that when

<question>:
Which of the following does not happen in the article?

<options>:
A Meek tries a new game
B Meek talks to a mechanic
C Meek is confused by new things
D Meek asks questions about space travel

<answer>:

D