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

<passage>:
tailor—maybe to settle a grudge. The shirt that went with it was an unsuccessful violet. The black string tie lent a dubious air of The man who had supplied the outfit was still asleep. I figured Granthan's mission was the most vital of the war. an unpadded acceleration couch—the kind the Terrestrial Space Arm installs in seldom-used lifeboats. There were three more couches, but no one in them. I tried to sit up. It wasn't easy but, by applying a but the forearm was black, with deep red showing at the bottom of the cracks where the crisped upper layers had burst.... There was a first-aid cabinet across the compartment from me. I tried my right leg, felt broken bone-ends grate with a sensation that transcended pain. I heaved with the other leg, scrabbled with the charred arm. The crawl to the cabinet dwarfed Hillary's trek up Everest, but I reached it after a couple of years, and found the cyclone fence with a locked gate. microswitch on the floor that activated the thing, and then I was I came out of it clear-headed but weak. My right leg was numb, but reasonably comfortable, clamped tight in a walking brace. I put up a hand and felt a shaved skull, with sutures. It must have been a fracture. The left arm—well, it was still there, wrapped to the shoulder and held out stiffly by a power truss that would keep the scar tissue from pulling up and crippling me. The steady pressure as the elbow. "I'll get your change, sir," he said, reaching for his hip. He jumped out, opened my door, helped me out with a hand under my good truss contracted wasn't anything to do a sense-tape on for replaying at leisure moments, but at least the cabinet hadn't amputated. I wasn't complaining. As far as I knew, I was the first recorded survivor of contact with the "I'll be all right." "Keep it." a broken leg and third-degree burns, plus a fractured skull—I shouldn't have been able to fall out of bed, much less make the trip from Belshazzar's and how had I managed to dog that running on a broken femur, handling heavy levers with charred fingers "Granthan!" he burst out. "Where are the others? What happened out Gilgamesh —I think. I got out. I lost a little skin, but the aid cabinet has the case in hand. Tell the Med people the drinks are on me." I finished talking and flopped back, waiting for Kayle's reply. On the the disaster. How does it happen that you alone survived?" "How the hell do I know?" I yelled—or croaked. But Kayle's voice was droning on: "This is war, Granthan. War against a vicious enemy who strike without "I'm sorry, Granthan. I can't let you land on Earth. I can't accept you think of something? I need a doctor!" Presently Kayle replied. "Yes," he said. "You'll have to enter a knowing what was coming. I couldn't really blame him II I tried to gather my wits and think my way through the situation. I was alone and injured, aboard a lifeboat that would be the focus of a I wasn't, of course. I was still the same Peter Granthan, wasn't just any casualty. I had been trained in the subtleties of the mind—and I had been prepared for just such an attack. Now was the time to make use of that training. It had given me one " " " " hatch was open and I pulled myself through, forcing the broken leg. " " the last filament of your life-force! " themselves. Abruptly, a channel lay open. As easily as I would stretch out my hand discovered, worlds where food was free for the taking. Not sulphur alone, but potassium, calcium, iron and all the metals—riches the fleets, far from home, but only at a superficial level. Enough, perhaps, to wreck a ship, but not the complete control needed to send a my word for it. I can build it, though, using standard components, plus for the trip with sessions on the encephaloscope, setting up the "I don't understand that psychodynamics jargon, Granthan," he snapped. you well enough. I'm sorry." I leaned back and chewed the inside of my lip and thought unkind thoughts about Colonel Ausar Kayle. Then I settled down to solve the problem at hand. And I had a few ideas. III over, buffeting me against the restraining harness. lifeboat deep under the surface. Then my escape capsule was bobbing on the water. I would have to risk calling Kayle now—but by voluntarily giving my Kayle's face appeared. "Don't fight it, Granthan," he croaked. "You somebody out here to pick me up, before I add sea-sickness to my other complaints." Granthan." I felt cold sweat pop out on my forehead. "You've got to listen, "I'm sorry, Granthan," Kayle said. "It's too late—even if I could "Mr. Granthan, I am General Titus. On behalf of your country, and in the name of the President—who has been apprised of this tragic situation—it is my privilege to inform you that you will be awarded Although you failed, and have in fact been forced, against your will, from your gallant attempt. Mr. Granthan, I salute you." The general's arm went up in a rigid gesture. "Goodbye, Granthan. Try to understand...." Men fell on him, dragged him back. "— for a grip with my good hand. "God-awful looking, shaved head, arm stuck out out, and I heard the unconscious body slam to the ground like a poled creaked, pulling at my arm. My broken leg was throbbing its indignation at the treatment it had received—walking brace and all—and the burned arm was yelling aloud for more of that nice dope that had been keeping it from realizing how bad it was. All things considered, I felt like a badly embalmed mummy—except that I was hungry. I had been a fool not to fill my pockets when I left the escape capsule in the shallows off Key Largo, but things had been happening too fast. for groceries. He'd never believe he'd seen me. I pressed the release on the power truss, gingerly unclamped it, then rigged a sling from a strip of shirt tail. I tied the arm to my side as inconspicuously as possible. I didn't disturb the bandages. I needed new clothes—or at least different ones—and something to I walked the man to the door, and through it. Behind a linoleum-topped patches under her arms looked up without interest as the door banged. My host went on to the counter, gestured toward the waxed-paper-wrapped sandwiches under a glass cover. "I'll take 'em all. And candy bars, and cigarettes. And give me a big glass of water." "Put it in a bag. Quick." "Look who's getting bossy—" My host rounded the counter, picked up a used paper bag, began stuffing My host took two dog-eared bills from his shirt pocket, dropped them The trainman crossed the platform, headed for the boxcar. He slid the loose door back a few inches against the slack latch, pushed the bag inside, placed the glass of water beside it, then pulled off his grimy original idea hadn't been his own. Orleans in another twelve hours. The first step of my plan included a raid on the Delta National Labs but that was tomorrow. That could good, but I had a stake in staying on my feet. I still had a few miles unencumbered. Unless you wanted to count the walking brace on my right leg and the sling binding my arm. I thanked him and got in. He gave me a glance and I pinched off his

<question>:
Who put Granthan's leg in a walking brace?

<options>:
A The med people
B He did it himself
C A colonel
D The first aid cabinet

<answer>:

D