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

<passage>:
"If I'm a spy," he said impatiently, "then I'm supposed to look for Illustrated by WEST Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that were to destroy everything that was noble and egg yolk, a stuck zipper, a feedback in the aircon exhaust, the window sticking at full transparency—well, I won't go through the whole sorry the roof on the city, as they say. It was just one of those days. Everybody gets them. Days when you're Project?" fixation on that one subject of punctuality. The result of her job, this Project to attack any other project, then why in the world should again. "Now, then," he said. "If you know it doesn't make any sense for Project and had blown itself up. Well, of course, after working as an ore-sled dispatcher for three days. a spy, and I'm it was my breakfast allotment and I was hungry—and while hurriedly jury-rigging drapery across that gaspingly transparent window—one hundred and fifty-three stories "I come," he said, "from a Project about eighty miles north of here. speeches, trying to select the most effective one. I had a Whimsical Approach: "Honey, I see there's a nice little Non-P apartment available up on one seventy-three." And I had a Romantic Approach: "Darling, I can't live without you at the moment. straight down to slag—I kept going over and over my prepared proposal Temporarily, I'm madly in love with you. I want to share my life the dreams again. And this time he can build better, because he has the horrible example of the recent past to guide him away from the pitfalls. There's no need any longer for the Projects." And that was like saying there's no need any longer for stomachs, but I didn't say so. I didn't say anything at all. malfunctioning air-cons, and I managed somehow to leave the apartment at five minutes to ten. Projects were no longer needed, then the Commission was out of a job, Linda lived down on the hundred fortieth floor, thirteen stories away. It never took more than two or three minutes to get to her place, so I was giving myself plenty of time. that traveled between the hundred thirty-third floor and the hundred sixty-seventh floor, where it was possible to make connections for either the next local or for the express. So it couldn't be more than twenty stories away. And this was a non-rush hour. keep us from being interrupted. Frantic, I dashed from the apartment again, back down the hall to the piled on top of all the other annoyances and breakdowns of the day I got some more letters that spelled: BUSY. . any attention to. "We're not supposed to give this information out, "A spy. He was discovered on the hundred forty-seventh floor, and aims "He runs it up and down the shaft," she explained, "trying to crush the way up to the hundred forty-seventh floor before being unmasked! more spies there were in the Project, still unsuspected? no reality for me. The Project, after all, was self-sufficient and completely enclosed. No one ever left, no one ever entered. Under our roof, we were a nation, two hundred stories high. The ever-present threat of other projects had never been more for me—or for most other people either, I suspected—than occasional ore-sleds that didn't building, occasional spies of our own leaving the Project in tiny bring back news of any immediate threats and dangers that project might within the Project life was full, the knowledge of external dangers merely lurking at the backs of our minds. After all, those external old—had private names for every major war of the twentieth century. There was the Ignoble Nobleman's War, the Racial Non-Racial War, and World Wars One, Two, and Three. The rise of the Projects, according to Dr. Kilbillie, was the result of many many factors, but two of the most important were the population meant that there was continuously more and more people but never any more space. So that housing, in the historically short time of one century, made a complete transformation from horizontal expansion to vertical. Before 1900, the vast majority of human beings lived in tiny huts of from one to five stories. By 2000, everybody lived in Projects. From the very beginning, small attempts were made to make these Projects more than dwelling places. By mid-century, Projects (also called apartments and co-ops) already included restaurants, shopping centers, baby-sitting services, dry cleaners and a host of other adjuncts. By the end of the century, the Projects were completely self-sufficient, with food grown hydroponically in the sub-basements, separate floors set aside for schools and churches and factories, robot ore-sleds capable of seeking out raw materials unavailable within the Projects themselves and so on. And all because of, among other things, the population explosion. It seems there was a power-struggle between two sets of then-existing nations (they were something like Projects, only horizontal instead of strategic atomic weapons all over the place. After the war almost the whole However, what with all of the other treaties which were broken during was quite sure any more who was on whose side. That project over there And so life went on, with little to remind us of the dangers lurking was left to the Army. The rest of us simply lived our lives and let it other side of them. didn't we? Usually, I mean, when they didn't contain spies. So what was information), the Project had been built when there still had been such things as municipal governments (something to do with cities, which were more or less grouped Projects), and the local municipal government required a complete set of stairs in every building constructed in the flight, that meant two hundred and eight steps. Could I descend two hundred and eight steps for my true love? I could. If the door would open. steps and a floor. Eight steps and a landing, eight steps and a floor. On the landing between one fifty and one forty-nine, there was a smallish door. I paused, looking curiously at it, and saw that at one time letters had been painted on it. The letters had long since flaked answers flashed through my mind. The more recent maps might simply elevator shaft. didn't look like a reminded me of a rather taciturn milkman who used to make deliveries to said. "Good," he said—just as we both heard a sudden raucous squealing from perhaps four flights down, a squealing which could be nothing but the opening of a hall door. It was followed by the heavy thud of ascending boots. The Army! false move I'll kill you. Now, we're going to your apartment. We're friends, just strolling along together. You got that?" I nodded. "You'll never get away," I told him. "The whole Project is alerted." cups, lunch and dinner." "What do you do for a living?" to be able to maintain the fiction should he question me further about it. their cargo before they're brought into the building." "For what? Who cares about that?" him. Incredible! I nearly poured boiling water all over myself. "Outside? Of course not!" "The same thing," he grumbled, "over and over again. Always the same of the caves? The long slow painful creep of progress, for millennia, "I'll tell you this," he said belligerently. "A lot longer than it growing up. His dreams were getting bigger and grander and better all the time. He was planning to tackle ! The moon first, and then the planets, and finally the stars. The whole universe was out there, tail between his legs. That's What rocket launchers on the roof, they're rusted through with age. And what spy. "And what are one of the other projects." information." what a spy, then it follows that I'm doing the same thing, right?"

<question>:
How are the various Projects in the story related to each other?

<options>:
A They are governed like states within a country
B They are connected by underground corridors to avoid radiation at the surface
C They are largely governed like separate countries
D They are separate wings of the same humongous building

<answer>:

C