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

<passage>:
By RAY BRADBURY This was Burnett's last trip. Three more . Sam Burnett shook his long head, trying to think clearly. Pallid and quiet, three bodies lay on the cold transparent tables around him machines stirred, revolved, hummed. He didn't see them. He didn't see Burnett didn't move. He stood there in his rumpled white surgical deep. It didn't belong to him anymore. Rice said: "Boyohbody! Two more pick-ups and back to New York. Me for a ten-day drunk!" another in galactic fury, to sidle up behind gutted wrecks of ships, salvaging any bodies still intact after the conflict. Two men. Rice and himself. Sharing a cozy morgue ship with a hundred other men who had forgotten, quite suddenly, however, to talk again. Ten years of it. Every hour of those ten years eating like maggots inside, working out to the surface of Burnett's face, working under the husk of his starved eyes and starved limbs. Starved for life. Starved Burnett jerked. Rice's voice clipped through the drainage-preservative lab, bounded against glassite retorts, echoed from the refrigerator Burnett closed his eyes and said a couple of words, firmly. Nothing was But even a machine breaks down.... "Sam!" Rice turned swiftly as Burnett dragged himself up the ladder. Red and warm, Rice's face hovered over the body of a sprawled enemy official. "Take a look at this!" Burnett caught his breath. His eyes narrowed. There was something wrong completely in milk-pale syntha-silk, a holstered gun at the middle. Burnett rubbed his jaw. "Well?" Rice exploded. His eyes were hot in his young, sharp-cut face, hot and black. "Good Lord, Sam, do you know who this is?" Burnett scowled uneasily and said no. "It's Lethla!" Rice retorted. swept out past Earth in a new war concerning Io. That's out, Rice." Rice stood about three inches below Sam Burnett's six-foot-one. Jaw hard and determined, he stared at Sam, a funny light in his eyes. His fingers twitched all by themselves at his sides. His mouth twisted, "You're one hell of a patriot, Sam Burnett!" Burnett reached out with one long finger, tapped it quietly on Rice's barrel-chest. "Haul a cargo of corpses for three thousand nights and days and see how patriotic you feel. All those fine muscled lads bloated and crushed by space pressures and heat-blasts. Fine lads who start out smiling and get the smile burned off down to the bone—" Burnett swallowed and didn't say anything more, but he closed his eyes. heart waiting warm and heavy at the base of his throat. "This is my last cargo, Rice. I can't take it any longer. And I don't like a dead cold star. Rice sucked in his breath. Burnett forced himself to take it easy. From the corners of his eyes he saw Rice's expression go deep and tight, biting lines into his sharp face. Rice got it out, finally. "How'd you do it?" he demanded, bitterly. "How'd you live in the void? It's impossible!" A crazy thought came ramming down and exploded in Burnett's head. at all." Prickles of sweat appeared on Rice's face. He swore at the Venusian and the Venusian laughed like some sort of stringed instrument, high and quick. coils. The radio. Burnett put his shoulder blades against the wall-metal, looking at his feet. When he glanced up, Rice's fresh, animated face was spoiled by the new bitterness in it. Rice said it, slow: "Interplanetary law declares it straight, Lethla! Get out! Only dead "Kriere!" Rice acted as if he had been hit in the jaw. Burnett moved his tongue back and forth on his lips silently, his eyes lidded, listening to the two of them as if they were a radio drama. Rice's voice was sullen. "A set-up for you, huh? Traveling under the protection of the Purple Cross you can get your damned All-Mighty safe to Venus." now! " Rice didn't move. Burnett moved first, feeling alive for the first time in years. "Sure," said Sam, smiling. "We'll pick him up." Burnett scowled and smiled together. "No tricks. You'll have Kriere on board the Constellation Burnett went up, quick. Almost as if he enjoyed doing Lethla a favor. Rice grumbled and cursed after him. On the way up, Burnett thought about it. About Lethla poised like a white feather at the top, holding death in his hand. You never Burnett set his teeth together, bone against bone. Help Kriere escape? See him safely to Venus, and then be freed? Sounded easy, wouldn't be hard. Venusians weren't blind with malice. Rice and he could come out alive if they cooperated. Two muscles moved on Burnett, one in each long cheek. The sag in his "Very," said Burnett. hating a job and hoping that some day there would be a last trip and it would all be over. Burnett laughed through his nose. Controls moved under his fingers like fluid loved, caressed, tended by his familiar touching. Looking ahead, Burnett cut. Kriere's milky face floated dreamily into a visual-screen, eyes sealed, lips gaping, hands sagging, clutching emptily at the stars. water-blue uniform, emblems shining gold, heat-gun tucked in glossy jet holster. With Kriere aboard, chances of overcoming him would be eliminated. Now: Rice and Burnett against Lethla. Lethla favored because of his gun. Kriere would make odds impossible. Burnett slipped from the control console. Rice replaced him grimly. Burnett smiled right back at him. What Kriere didn't know was that he was about to end a ten-years' war. Burnett jabbed a purple-topped stud. The star-port clashed open as it had done a thousand times before Burnett spun about and leaped. The horror on Lethla's face didn't go away as he fired his gun. Rice came in fighting, too, but not before something like a red-hot ramrod stabbed Sam Burnett, catching him in the ribs, spinning him back like a drunken idiot to fall in a corner. Out of the red darkness, Rice's voice came and then he could see Rice's young face over him. Burnett groaned. Rice said, "Sam, you shouldn't have done it. You shouldn't have, Sam." "To hell with it." Burnett winced, and fought to keep his eyes open. Something wet and sticky covered his chest. "I said this was my last Constellation , though, Rice." His voice trailed off. "You watch the shelves fill up and you never know who'll be next. Who'd have thought, four days ago—" "Rice?" "Yeah, Sam?" "We haven't got a full cargo, boy." Burnett was lying down, not moving, but somehow Rice was going away a million miles. "Ain't I one hell of a patriot, Rice?" Then everything got dark except Rice's face. And that was starting to dissolve. He could still see Rice standing over him for a long time, breathing out and in. Down under the tables the blood-pumps pulsed and pulsed, thick and slow. Rice looked down at Burnett and then at the empty shelf at the far end of the room, and then back at Burnett again. And then he said softly:

<question>:
Which of following statements is not a true statement about the differences between Rice and Burnett?

<options>:
A Rice is patriotic, while Burnett is treasonous
B Rice is new to the job, while Burnett is experienced
C Rice is young, while Burnett is old
D Rice is idealistic, while Burnett is cynical

<answer>:

A