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

<passage>:
Illustrated by Bernklau [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Astounding Science whatever to do with whether others are afraid, nor with whether it is in fact dangerous. It's your view of the matter that counts! multi-colored little sparks of thoughts and memories that scattered through the darkness like tiny glowing mice, fleeing from something unknown, fleeing outwards and away toward a somewhere that was equally unknown scurrying, moving, changing—each half recognizable as it longer scattering the fleeing memories, but merely blanketing them. And slowly—ever so slowly—the powerful cohesive forces that existed not-blackness faded. The associative powers of the mind began putting The process was far from complete when Broom regained consciousness. Broom sat up abruptly and looked around him. The room was totally What? the effect was greater He tried to force his memory to give him the information he was looking for, but it wouldn't come. A face flickered in his mind for a moment, and a name. Contarini. He seemed to remember a startled look on the Italian's face, but he could neither remember the reason for it nor when it had been. But it would come back Meanwhile, where the devil was he? some kind. It was some sort of carpeting that covered the floor from wall away from the door it looked almost normal, except that the objects on it were like nothing that had ever existed. Their purposes were unknown, and their shapes meaningless. And knew immediately that, no matter what it looked like, it wasn't wood. The illusion was there to the eye, but no wood ever had such a objects on the table and pull his hand away from the unnatural wall. It this was no time to start. What would his men think of him if they saw him getting shaky over the mere touch of a woodlike wall? The memories were coming back. This time, he didn't try to probe for them surface verified the decision. The only thing that looked at all familiar on the table was a sheaf of studs. more seemed to be forthcoming. Still, he decided it might be best to let things alone. There was no point in messing with things that undoubtedly controlled forces beyond his ability to cope with, or understand. After Time? What had Contarini said about time? Something about its being like a ... something else. What? Contarini had made it plain that going into the past was impossible. Then could he, Broom, get would a sudden jump of centuries do? well explore his surroundings a little more. He resolved to keep his Broom decided he might as well get a good look at whatever was outside Broom backed away from the window and let the curtain close. He'd had unfamiliar, outlandish clothing, but Broom had seen odder clothing in of the picture. It was almost as if there were a mirror there, reflecting the face of a man who stood invisibly before it. It wasn't, of course it was only a painting. But the lifelike, somber eyes of the man were focused directly on him. Broom decided he didn't chair. Broom's footsteps sounded loud in the room, the echoes rebounding with the soft carpeting than the carpet it had a kind of queer resiliency of its own. well lit. For the first time, he thought of the possibility that there might be someone else here besides himself. He looked around, wishing that he had a weapon of some kind. Even a knife would have made him feel better. But there had been no chance of that, of course. Prisoners of war are Contarini had said that it would be ... how had he said it? "Like sleeping for hundreds of years and waking up in a strange world." His wish for a weapon came back, stronger than before. The very fact that he had seen no one set his nerves on edge even more than the sight of a known enemy would have done. the unreadable characters on it. He wished fervently that he could decipher them anyway? The door behind him was pressing against his hand with a patient insistence, as though it wanted to close itself. He almost let it close, but, at the last second, he changed his mind. Better the devil we know than the devil we don't , he thought to himself. of the dish when he returned would tell him that he was not alone in come through showed the telltale glow from the other side. Why? He had the terrible feeling that he had been drawn across time to this place for a purpose, and yet he could think of no rational reason for believing so. stone-walled dungeon, with its smelly straw beds, lit only by the faint shaft of sunlight that came from the barred window high overhead. Contarini, the short, wiry little Italian who was in the next cell, looked at him through the narrow opening. "I still think it can be done, my friend. It is the mind and the mind alone that sees the flow of time. The body experiences, but does not see. Only the soul is capable of knowing eternity." Broom outranked the little Italian, but prison can make brothers of all men. "You think it's possible then, to get out of a place like this, simply by thinking about it?" Contarini nodded. "Why not? Did not the saints do so? And what was that? Contemplation of the Eternal, my comrade contemplation of the Eternal." Broom held back a grin. "Then why, my Venetian friend, have you not left this place long since?" "I try," Contarini had said simply, "but I cannot do it. You wish to know why? It is because I am afraid." "Afraid?" Broom raised an eyebrow. He had seen Contarini on the battlefield, dealing death in hand-to-hand combat, and the Italian hadn't impressed him as a coward. this, I have a great fear. Only a saint can handle such things, and I am no saint." "I hope, my dear Contarini," Broom said dryly, "that you are not under the impression that I am a saint." "No, perhaps not," Contarini said. "Perhaps not. But you are braver than I. I am not afraid of any man living. But you are afraid of neither the living nor the dead, nor of man nor devil—which is a great deal more than I can say for myself. Besides, there is the blood of kings in your veins. And has not a king protection that even a man of noble blood such as myself does not have? I think so. "Oh, I have no doubt that you could do it, if you but would. And then, perhaps, when you are free, you would free me—for teaching you all I Broom had thought that over for a moment, then grinned. "All right, my friend The memory faded from Broom's mind. Had he really moved through some neither. He had to get back. The utter alienness of this bright, shining, lifeless wonderland was too much for him. perhaps—somehow—some force would return him to where he belonged. scooped up the dish in one big hand and ran on into the room, letting Broom's eyes opened, and instantly every muscle and nerve in his his clothes. He was not as tall as Broom, and he looked soft and overfed. His paunch protruded roundly from the open front of the short coat, and there was a fleshiness about his face that betrayed too much good living. the tenseness in his voice betrayed his fear. Broom relaxed. He had "I won't hurt you," Broom said. "I had no intention of intruding on your property, but all I ask is help." Broom laughed. "You have nothing to fear from me, little man. Permit me to introduce myself. I am Richard Broom, known as—" He stopped, and his scattered again during the passage through centuries of time came back more quickly and settled back into their accustomed pattern more easily. The face was that of the Italian, Contarini. He was looking both worried and disappointed. were gone. Richard Broom sat up on his palette of straw. The scene in the strange why I had gone to that ... that place. And when I remembered, I came back." Contarini nodded sadly. "It is as I have heard. The memory ties one too strongly to the past—to one's own time. One must return as soon as the THE END

<question>:
What is Broom’s relationship with Contarini?

<options>:
A They are strangers.
B They are both prisoners.
C They are brothers.
D They are both con artists.

<answer>:

B