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

<passage>:
understand it all. But—Martin, dying alone like that in a place like this—!" Martin crawled into the circular pipe behind the grate. It tilted up Martin called out faintly, pulling Rodney out of the pipe. Crew members Martin set the lifeboat down carefully, with all the attention one was the last thing Martin heard before he collapsed. Martin led Wass, and the gangling, scarecrow-like Rodney, through the and the previous ten, in the time allowed them for exploration while this planet was still close enough to their own to permit a safe return "Hey, Martin!" Rodney called through his helmet radio. Martin paused. pile, as if sharing Martin's thoughts. "That's all we need, isn't it?" Martin looked at the semi-transparent figures of wind and dust "It's here, too." Martin stood up. "Let's try farther on. Rodney, radio the ship, tell them we're going in." is—was—for." "Defense," Rodney, several yards behind, suggested. "Could be," Martin said. "Let's go in." slowly across Martin's mind. "All right!" he rapped out—and the image "Pictures," Martin decided. "We have twelve hours. We'll start here. What's the matter, Wass?" Martin ignored the remark. "Go get it. Rodney and I will be somewhere Wass turned away. Martin and Rodney started slowly down the wide metal sometime, a common ancestor? Martin noted the shoulder-high doors, the Martin's spine. "What's the matter?" Anger rose in Martin. "You didn't," he said flatly, gripping the Rodney wrenched free of Martin's grip. He gestured wildly. "That—" "Martin!" Wass' voice came through the receivers in both their radios. "Martin, I can't get out!" Rodney mumbled something, and Martin told him to shut up. Martin clapped a hand on Rodney's shoulder again, starting him moving, "No go," Martin said to Wass. He bit at his lower lip. "I think it must separated." Walking with Rodney, Martin heard Wass' voice, flat and metallic this?" He shook his head angrily, saying, "Judging by reports of the rest of hundreds of thousands of years to activate such a screen." Wass said coldly, "He's right, Martin." Martin crossed an intersection, Rodney slightly behind him. "You're Martin shook his head. "No. To be effective, the shield would have to cover the city." Martin shrugged. "Let's look." Martin chose an arch, with beyond it a metal ramp, which tilted The three advanced to the end of the central corridor, pausing before a great arch, outlined in the too-careful geometrical figures Martin had come to associate with the city builders. The three torches, shining roof. "Is this it," Wass murmured, "or an auxiliary?" "What would you suggest, instead?" Martin asked calmly. "No!" Martin said, sharply. That was one assumption they dared not make. Rodney turned. "But—" "No. Wass, how much time have we?" "Eleven hours," Rodney repeated. "Eleven hours!" He reached out for the switch again. Martin swore, stepped forward, pulled him back roughly. "We've got to—" "No!" Then, more quietly—"We still have eleven hours to find a way out." "Ten hours and forty-five minutes," Wass disagreed softly. "Minus the And Captain Morgan can't wait for us, Martin." that much less time to find a way out. Martin—" "I'm holding mine." Martin waited. Martin hung back waiting for the others to go ahead of him down the out?" Martin asked. "Sure. Why not?" "We're wearing heavy suits and bulky breathing units. We have no equipment." Martin adjusted his torch, began to lead the way down the metal ramp. Martin shined his light upward, and the others followed his example. "I don't know. I have no idea." Martin gestured toward the ramp with Martin turned on his heel and started down a metal avenue which, he three lights, past openings in the occasional high metal partitions, past something which was perhaps a conveyor belt, past another something which could have been anything at all. holding his gun. "To the switchboard, Martin?" "Unless someone has a better idea," Martin conceded. He waited. But Rodney was holding the gun ... and Wass was.... Then—"I can't think of anything else." Martin was in the lead. Wass followed him silently. Rodney, tall, Then Wass touched his elbow. "Look there, Martin. Left of the ramp." Light from their torches was reflected, as from glass. "All right," Rodney said belligerently into his radio. "What's holding up the procession?" Martin was silent. Wass undertook to explain. Why not, after all? Martin asked himself. It was in Wass' own interest. In a moment, all three were standing before Martin blinked. He thought how little time they had. He wet his lips. Martin raised his arm tensely. "Opening a seed bank doesn't help us find a way out of here." He started up the ramp. "Besides, we've no water." Rodney came last up the ramp, less jaunty now, but still holding the gun. His mind, too, was taken up with childhood's imaginings. "For Martin made a final effort. "Rodney, it's still almost nine hours to Martin leaped, knocking him to the floor. Rodney's gun skittered away Martin was watching Rodney, struggling to get up. "I agree. As a last now that he was up again. "Martin, I—" Martin turned his back. "Skip it, Rodney," he said gently. Martin glanced at Wass, then started out of the switchboard room, not Martin placed one foot on the metal incline. He angled his torch down, "Seven hours," Wass said quietly, "until take-off." "One more level," Martin said, ignoring the reference to time. "I ... think it's the last." Martin urged him on. "You know what a man-hole cover looks like." He Martin swung his flashlight, illuminating the distorted metal shapes. expeditions to study. So will we if we don't find a way to get out." Their radios recorded Rodney's gasp. Then—"Martin! Martin! I think Martin began to run. After a moment's hesitation, Wass swung in behind Martin kneeled, grasped the wheel. It turned easily—almost too hinge. The three men, clad in their suits and helmets, grouped around the Rodney's sudden grip on Martin's wrist nearly shattered the bone. "Martin! It's all alive! It's moving!" Martin hesitated long enough for a coil to move sinuously up toward the opening. Then he spun the wheel and the hatch slammed down. Then—"It wasn't.... Why did you close the hatch then?" Martin did not say he thought the other two would have shot him, Martin went to the wheel. He noticed Wass was standing behind Rodney The hatch rose again at Martin's direction. He stood beside it, Martin anchored the rope soundly, and paused, half across the lip Wass sighed and refused to meet Martin's gaze. Martin looked at him Rodney began the descent. Looking up, Martin saw Wass above Rodney. "All right, Wass," Martin said quietly, as Rodney released the rope and sank into the dust. "Not me," the answer came back quickly. "You two fools go your way, I'll go mine." "Wass!" "Of course," Martin growled. Martin. Two hours. Hear me, Rodney?" Martin pulled his left foot from the sand and growled deep in his Martin. I—" Martin switched off his radio, sick. "Well?" "I've been trying to get you," Rodney said, frantically. "Why didn't you answer?" "We couldn't do anything for him." "So he did," Martin said, very quietly. Then Martin said, "Did you listen until the end?" Rodney nodded, jerkily. "He pulled three more switches. I couldn't

<question>:
How many times did Martin open the hatch?

<options>:
A 1
B 0
C 2
D 3

<answer>:

C