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

<passage>:
The red planet lived and would die to the soul-tearing tunes of his fiendish piping. residence cannot explain. Outwardly a tourists' mecca, with white and darker side, ever present, ever hidden. While earthmen work and plan, building, repairing, bringing their vast energy and progress to decadent Mars, the silent little reddies go their devious ways, following ancient laws which no amount of terrestial logic can shake. Time-bound ritual, mysterious passions and hates, torturous, devious logic ... all these, like dark winding underground streams run beneath little reddies, keeping the terrestial-imposed peace on the red planet. And when Jared Haller sent to Earth for one of the Terrestial Intelligence, that silent efficient corps of trouble-shooters, something was definitely up. "You sent to Earth a while ago for an operator?" police force to handle." Jared Haller's strong hands tapped nervously upon the desk. "No one has greater respect for our local authorities than myself. Captain Maxwell is a personal friend of mine. But I remarkable inventions, which make it easy for them to track down criminals." Ranson nodded. That was true. T.I. didn't allow its secret devices to be used by any other agency, for fear they might become known to Broadcasting Company! And I don't have to tell you that whoever controls M.B.C. controls Mars! Here's the set-up! Our company, although state owned, is largely free from red-tape, so long as we stress the good work we terrestials are doing on Mars and keep any revolutionary propaganda off the air-waves. Except for myself, and half a dozen other it's ready for autonomy. Which it isn't yet, by quite some. As you know." Ranson nodded, eyes intent as the pattern unfolded. Martian war-songs being played and some rabble-rouser yelling 'down with the terrestial oppressors' and there'd be a revolution. Millions of reddies against a few police, a couple of regiments of the Foreign Legion. It'd be a cinch." "But," ... Ranson frowned ... "this is only an interesting supposition. The reddies are civilized, peaceful." "Outwardly," Haller snapped. "But what do you or any other earthmen know about what goes on in their round red heads? And the proof that some revolt is planned lies in what's been happening the past few terrorized expression on his face I've ever seen. Fear, causing the heart attack, his doctor said. You begin to see the set-up? Three men, each a vital power in M.B.C. gone within three weeks! And who's next? Who?" Jared Haller's eyes were bright with fear. "Suicide, insanity, heart attack." Ranson shrugged. "All perfectly normal. Coincidence that they should happen within three weeks. What "It's all right." Jared Haller grinned crookedly. "I'm not insane. Yet. Look, Mr. Ranson! There's just one clue to these mysterious deaths! And that's the music! In each instance the servants told of hearing, very faintly, a strange melody. Music that did queer things to them, them, like an undercurrent of madness, ran the macabre melody. fayeh these, he decided, that their unknown serenader lay concealed. an insane desire to run amok. To inflict pain, to see red blood flow, rose in a frenzied death-wail. his master, and it was driving him to frenzy. "Kill!" the weird rhythm Whether it was the deadly melody outside, or the instinct of bared in animalistic grins, breath coming in choked gasps, whirling At that moment the lethal rhythm outside changed abruptly. From the yearning seductive tone. A call, it seemed, irresistible, soft, with exquisitely beautiful scenes, of women lovely beyond imagination. All a moth is drawn to a flame. The piping of Pan, the fragile fantasies of toward the source of the music, like a man drugged. As he approached the window the melody grew louder. The hypnotism of sound, he knew, but he didn't care. It was enthralling, irresistible. was lost in the golden world that the elfin melody conjured up. He saw uniformed figures leaping to the bank. From the shadow of the fayeh disappeared among the twisting narrow streets. Bathed in cold sweat, "Yes." Ranson nodded sombrely. "In the struggle. Self-defense. But even if it hadn't been self-defense, I probably would have fought with him. That music was madness, I tell you! Madness! Nobody's responsible when under its influence! I...." alleged music. I might believe you, Ranson, but how many other people would? Even members of Terrestial Intelligence aren't sacro sanct. I'll have to hold you for trial." "Hold me for trial?" Ranson leaned forward, his gaunt face intent. "While the real killer, the person playing that music, gets away? Look! Let me out of here for twelve hours! That's all I ask! And if I don't track down whoever was outside Haller's house, you can...." "It'll only make it tougher for you when we nab you again! Be sensible! Put down that gun." terrestials on Mars! And I'm going to stop it! So long, captain! You can try me for murder if you want, after I've done my job here!" Free of headquarters, Ranson began to run. Only a few moments, he knew, before Maxwell and his men blasted a way to freedom, set out in little reddies padded, silent, inscrutable, themselves a part of the eternal mystery of Mars. fayeh there was little danger, he felt, of patrolmen hunting for him at Haller's house. The captain had little faith in copybook maxims about the murderer returning to the scene of the crime. the famous "electric bloodhound," by which criminals could be tracked. matter, left by the mysterious serenader, were sucked up the tube, registered on a sensitive plate, just as delicate color shades register on the plate of a color camera. it was a safe bet that no one other than the strange musician had while animals, possessing more sensitive perceptions, can follow less distinct trails. To duplicate this mechanically had proven more difficult than an electric eye or artificial hearing device, but in the end they had triumphed. Their efforts had resulted in the machine Ranson now carried. that he had once more picked up the faint elusive scent. gambling dens, dives full of drunken spacehands and slim red-skinned the person he was trailing must have entered one of the houses. Very person who had played the mad murder melody had entered that house! Might still be there! Quickly he telescoped the "electric bloodhound," which, from their stilted symbolic ideographs must have dated back to Half-terrestial, half-Martian, he seemed, with the large hairless head Ranson gasped. The bizarre figure was that of Dr. Elath Taen, master-scientist, sought by the T.I. for years, in vain! Elath Taen, outlaw and renegade, whose sole desire was the extermination of all terrestials on Mars, a revival of the ancient glories of the red planet. The tales told about him were fabulous and this was the man deliberately, to strip off his rubber gloves. The music was a caress, soft as a woman's skin. Slow, drowsy, like open, saw a slim, dark, exotic girl step through into the room. Slung about her neck in the manner of an accordian, was a square box, with enigmatic girl, watched her hands dance over the keys to produce the soft lulling music. About her head, he noticed, was a queer copper helmet, of a type he had never before seen. And then the girl, Elath

<question>:
Who was the "exotic girl" most likely?

<options>:
A Elath Taen's co-conspirator.
B A contractor for T.I.
C An advocate for Martian rights.
D An independent vigilante.

<answer>:

A