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

<passage>:
who just lay on their shelves, all one hundred of them, waiting for a decent burial. "Number ninety-eight." Coming matter of fact and slow, Rice's voice from the ceiling radio hit Burnett. Rice said: "Boyohbody! Two more pick-ups and back to New York. Me for a ten-day drunk!" into a floor incinerator mouth. Back to Earth. Then spin around and 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 "Sam!" Burnett jerked. Rice's voice clipped through the drainage-preservative your job with mechanical hands. 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 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. "Don't say it calm, Sam. Say it big. Say it big! If Lethla is here in What the hell. He was tired. Talk about bodies and rulers to someone else. Rice grabbed him by the shoulders. "Snap out of it, Sam. Think! Kriere—The All-Mighty—in our territory. His right hand man dead. That means Kriere was in an accident, too!" Sam opened his thin lips and the words fell out all by themselves. "Look, Rice, you're new at this game. I've been at it ever since the Venus-Earth mess started. It's been see-sawing back and forth since the day you played hookey in the tenth grade, and I've been in the thick "But Lethla! His body must mean something!" thousand miles, we'll get it. Unfortunately, the tide of battle has 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, hearing the chug-chug-chug of the blood pumps down below, and his own 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 care much how I go back to earth. This Venusian here—what's his name? Lethla. He's number ninety-eight. Shove me into shelf ninety-nine beside him and get the hell home. That's how I feel!" Rice was going to say something, but he didn't have time. Lethla was alive. 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. What in hell would Lethla be wanting aboard a morgue ship? Lethla half-crouched in the midst of the smell of death and the 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. Lethla showed his needle-like teeth. "I thought it might be. Where's Lethla came down. Like a breath of air on the rungs. He smiled. "That's better. Now. We can talk—" Rice said it, slow: "Interplanetary law declares it straight, Lethla! Get out! Only dead men belong here." Lethla's gun grip tightened. "More talk of that nature, and only dead men there will be." He blinked. "But first—we must rescue Kriere...." "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. Lethla's voice came next: 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." "No tricks," said Lethla. hard. Venusians weren't blind with malice. Rice and he could come out alive if they cooperated. "There's your Ruler now, Lethla. Doing somersaults. Looks dead. A good Lethla with an intent scowl. Funny. This was the first and the last eliminated. Now: Rice and Burnett against Lethla. Lethla favored because of his gun. Kriere would make odds impossible. Lethla had to be yanked off guard. Shocked, bewildered, where Lethla would send a bullet crashing into rib, sinew, "Steady, Rice," he said, matter of factly. With the rockets cut, there was too much silence, and his voice sounded guilty standing up alone in the center of that silence. "Take controls, Rice. I'll manipulate the star-port." know, Lethla, there's an old saying that only dead men come aboard the That was the only way to draw Lethla off guard. 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. Fists made blunt flesh noises. Lethla went down, weaponless and screaming. Rice kicked. After awhile Lethla quit screaming, and the He didn't finish laughing for maybe ten minutes. He heard the retriever claws come inside, and the star-port grind shut. Out of the red darkness, Rice's voice came and then he could see Rice's 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 , 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—" mouth. He had a lot more words to say, but only time to get a few of them out: "Rice?" "Yeah, Sam?" "We haven't got a full cargo, boy." Lethla—number ninety-nine is Kriere. Three thousand days of rolling His voice got all full of fog. As thick as the fists of a dozen warriors. Rice was going away from him. Rice was standing still, and 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. Ninety-eight: Lethla. Ninety-nine: Kriere. 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,

<question>:
How does Lethla die?

<options>:
A Lethla shoots himself with his own gun
B Rice and Burnett expel him into the vacuum of space
C Burnett kills him with the mechanical claw
D Rice beats him to death

<answer>:

D