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

<passage>:
man walked back inside his suit like a robot, but it was a delicate adjustment, controlling power circuits from outside a suit. It was too much for us—we were too tired, too numb, too drunk. it for the first time. The alien stood between us and the ship. It was a great pot-bellied lizard as tall as a man. Its sound came from a flat, vibrating beaver tail. Others of its kind were coming into view behind it. "Stand your ground," I warned the others thickly. "They may be dangerous." Quade sat up on our crisscross litter of arms. "Aliens can't be I couldn't stop them. Being in Alpine rope with them, I went along. At the time, it even seemed vaguely like a good idea. As we lumbered toward them, the aliens fell back in a solid line except for the first curious-looking one. Quade got there ahead of us and made a grab. The creature rose into the air with a screaming vibration of his tail and landed on top of him, flattening him instantly. "Sssh, men," Nagurski said. "Leave it to me. I'll surround him." The men followed the First Officer's example, and the rope tying them electrogravitational disturbance of incoming sense data, rechanneling me violently in the face. My leaded boots were driven down into fertile soil, and my helmet was ringing like a bell. I got a jerky picture of the beast jumping up and down on top of the others joyously. Only the stiff space armor was holding up our slack frames. they can't even recognize our existence." "I'd like to," Nagurski admitted, "but the other beasts won't let us get past their circle." It was true. The aliens formed a ring around us, and each time a bouncing boy hit the line, he only bounced back on top of us. "Flat!" I yelled. "Our seams can't take much more of this beating." I drew myself up to my full height—and noticed in irritation it was "Let's let him escape," Hoffman suggested on the audio circuit. interfere with our explorations. Generally, they are so alien to us I followed my own advice and landed in the dirt beside Quade. The others were lying around me quietly, passed out, knocked out, or taking cover. The ring of aliens drew in about us, closer, tighter, as the bouncer sat on his haunches and waited for us to move. "Feeling better?" I asked Quade in the infirmary. I was stone sober. The bouncer came to rest and regarded us silently, head on an "I resent the word 'reactionary,' Spaceman! In civilian life, I was "Captain Gavin," Quade said patiently, "you must realize that an "No. I think I had the right idea on your rescue party. You have to meet and fight a planet on its own terms. Fighting confused sounds and tastes with music and wine was crude, but it was on the right track. I clapped him on the shoulder. "But, man, you have just been telling me all we had to worry about was common transphasia. A man with your experience could protect himself and cover even a rookie, under such got me away from those aliens." "The aliens were trying to help. They knew something was wrong and they got out, they seemed to realize our own people could help us easier than they could." "I am not quite convinced that those babies just meant to help us all the time." familiar conditions—right?" idiot. It's just as well. We aren't allowed to dissect creatures that far up the intelligence scale." "But why should they want to help us?" Quade demanded suspiciously. it? Quade nodded. "I've felt this before. It usually hits sooner. Let's trace it." you." "Of course not. I'll soothe my nerves by counting little shocks of lanolin jumping over a loud fence." Quade grinned behind his faceplate. "Good idea." I knew mine was the same. I tested the security rope between our pressure suits. It was a taut and virile bass. We scaled a staccato of rocks, our suits grinding pepper against our hides. we have to hang onto is each other, our concept of reality goes bang and deflates to a tired joke." spice shot past us. It bounced back tangily and made a bitter rip between the two of us. There was no time to judge its size, if it had size, or its decibel range, or its caloric count, before a small, sharp pain dug in and dwindled down to nothing in one long second. planetary gravitational fields. On this planet, that blank kinescope may mean our Big Brother kites were knocked down by hostile natives." "Not for an experienced spaceman," Quade griped. "I'm used to free-fall." But he turned back. known for an instant as a streak of spice. "There's one free-fall," I said, "where you wouldn't live long enough to get used to it." crew is concerned, Ordinary Spaceman Quade is the best man on this suited men expertly guiding the huge curved sections on their ray projectors. have to have something tangible to hang onto out there. One slender cable isn't enough of an edge on sensory anarchy. If the product of their own technological civilization can keep them sane, I say let 'em "Then you'll be interested to hear that Spaceman Quade took a suit and spacesuits. But how would that leave us any better off than Quade? Why was Quade vulnerable in his spacesuit, as I knew from experience he would be? How could we be less vulnerable, or preferably invulnerable? you're a bottle-fed baby. If transphasia gets you seeing limburger, turn on the radar and you're "You are right," I said, "only transphasia comes right through these air-fast joints." "Something strange about the trance, Captain," Farley said darkly. "Any sound . These suits perfectly soundproof?" "Well, you can pick up sound by conduction. Like putting two helmets together and talking without using radio. You can't insulate enough to block out all sound and still have a man-shaped suit. You have—" "I know. Then you have something like a tractor or a miniature "It would do something else. It would drive you nuts." I shrugged. "It might be distracting." "Captain, take my word for it," argued Farley. "Constant sonic feedback inside a spacesuit will set you rocking against the grain." "Devise some regular system of interruptions," I suggested. and Asleep in the Cradle of the Deep can compensate for high-pitched outside temperatures, and Flight of the Bumble Bee hasn't yet developed anything to make spacemen taste or smell better." like to think how they would taste." "It's an entirely practical idea. Tea-tasters used to drink almond-and-barley water to sharpen their senses. I've observed that wine helps you appreciate culinary art more. Considering the mixed-up I splashed some wine from my drinking tube against the roof of my mouth to sharpen my taste. It brought out the footsteps sharper. It also made job crawling over a melting, chunk-style Hershey bar. I was thankful for the invigorating Sousa march blasting inside my helmet. Before the tape had cut in, kicked on by the decibel gauge, I had heard or felt before with transphasia. His body cooled down because of the screaming wind—psychosomatic reaction—and his heating circuits compensated for the cool flesh. The poor devil's got frostbite and heat prostration." The four of us managed to haul Quade back by using the powered joints in our suits. Hoffman suggested that he had once seen an injured

<question>:
What were the impacts of Gavin’s interventions on the crew’s space suits?

<options>:
A They added more oxygen for longer range
B They made them impermeable to radiation
C They improved the sensory experience for the crew
D They made them stronger to withstand the bouncing of the creatures

<answer>:

C