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

<passage>:
This was Burnett's last trip. Three more shelves to fill with space-slain warriors—and he would be among the living again. [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] He heard the star-port grind open, and the movement of the metal claws groping into space, and then the star-port closed. Burnett didn't move. He stood there in his rumpled white surgical gown, staring at his fingers gloved in bone-white rubber feeling all tight and wild inside himself. It went on for days. Moving the ship. Opening the star-port. Extending the retriever claw. Plucking some poor warrior's body out of the void. He didn't like it any more. Ten years is too long to go back and from the ceiling radio hit Burnett. "Number ninety-eight," Burnett repeated. "Working on ninety-five, ninety-six and ninety-seven now. Blood-pumps, preservative, slight surgery." Off a million miles away his voice was talking. It sounded Burnett peeled the gloves off his huge, red, soft hands, slapped them another in galactic fury, to sidle up behind gutted wrecks of ships, salvaging any bodies still intact after the conflict. inside, working out to the surface of Burnett's face, working under the Burnett jerked. Rice's voice clipped through the drainage-preservative shelves. Burnett stared at the tabled bodies as if they would leap to life, even while preservative was being pumped into their veins. "Sam! On the double! Up the rungs!" Burnett closed his eyes and said a couple of words, firmly. Nothing was grinding collisions, tossed from mother ships and dancing head over suits, mouths open for air that had never been there in a hundred billion centuries. And they kept dancing without music until you extended the retriever-claw and culled them into the air-lock. That was all the war-glory he got. Nothing but the stunned, shivering silence, the memory of rockets long gone, and the shelves filling up and who the next ones would be. After ten years you made yourself blind to them. You went around doing your job with mechanical hands. But even a machine breaks down.... "Sam!" Rice turned swiftly as Burnett dragged himself up the ladder. Burnett caught his breath. His eyes narrowed. There was something wrong Burnett didn't say anything, but he climbed the rest of the way, delicately made as a fine white spider. Eyelids, closed, were faintly blue. The hair was thin silken strands of pale gold, waved and pressed close to a veined skull. Where the thin-lipped mouth fell open a cluster of needle-tipped teeth glittered. The fragile body was enclosed completely in milk-pale syntha-silk, a holstered gun at the middle. Burnett rubbed his jaw. "Well?" Burnett scowled uneasily and said no. "Look, Rice, you're new at this game. I've been at it ever since the Venus-Earth mess started. It's been see-sawing back and forth since the day you played hookey in the tenth grade, and I've been in the thick "And if it does? Have we got guns aboard this morgue-ship? Are we a "You're one hell of a patriot, Sam Burnett!" barrel-chest. "Haul a cargo of corpses for three thousand nights and Burnett swallowed and didn't say anything more, but he closed his eyes. "This is my last cargo, Rice. I can't take it any longer. And I don't necessary talking. It didn't say anything either, but Burnett knew what Burnett swallowed hard. The body had looked funny. Too dead. Now he knew why. Involuntarily, Burnett moved forward. Lethla moved like a Rice sucked in his breath. Burnett forced himself to take it easy. From A crazy thought came ramming down and exploded in Burnett's head. of his face. He shucked it off, trailing air-tendrils that had been inserted, hidden in the uniform, ending in thin globules of oxygen. He spoke. Triumph warmed his crystal-thin voice. "That's how I did it, Earthman." Burnett laughed, too. Ironically. "First time in years a man ever came "I know you're weaponless Purple Cross regulations. And this air-lock ladder. Two long breaths later something crashed metal and glass and coils. The radio. Burnett put his shoulder blades against the wall-metal, looking at his Rice didn't move. Burnett moved first, feeling alive for the first time Burnett scowled and smiled together. "No tricks. You'll have Kriere on Burnett went up, quick. Almost as if he enjoyed doing Lethla a favor. a white feather at the top, holding death in his hand. You never knew whose body would come in through the star-port next. Number Burnett set his teeth together, bone against bone. Help Kriere escape? Burnett laughed through his nose. Controls moved under his fingers like loved, caressed, tended by his familiar touching. Looking ahead, he squinted. "There's your Ruler now, Lethla. Doing somersaults. Looks dead. A good trick." "Cut power! We don't want to burn him!" eliminated. Now: Rice and Burnett against Lethla. Lethla favored Burnett's jaw froze tight. He could feel a spot on his shoulder-blade was too much silence, and his voice sounded guilty standing up alone in the center of that silence. "Take controls, Rice. I'll manipulate the star-port." Burnett slipped from the control console. Rice replaced him grimly. Burnett strode to the next console of levers. That spot on his back kept aching like it was sear-branded X. For the place where the bullet sings and rips. And if you turn quick, catching it in the arm first, why— Kriere loomed bigger, a white spider delicately dancing on a web of stars. His eyes flicked open behind the glassite sheath, and saw the Burnett jabbed a purple-topped stud. The star-port clashed open as but for the first time it was a good sound. And out of the star-port, at Sam Burnett's easily fingered directions, slid the long claw-like mechanism that picked up bodies from space. Lethla watched, intent and cold and quiet. The gun was cold and quiet, too. The claw glided toward Kriere without a sound, now, dream-like in its slowness. It reached Kriere. Burnett inhaled a deep breath. The metal claw cuddled Kriere in its shiny palm. Lethla watched. He watched while Burnett exhaled, touched another lever and said: "You Constellation . I believe it." And the claw closed as Burnett spoke, closed slowly and certainly, all around Kriere, crushing him into a ridiculous posture of silence. There was blood running on the claw, and the only recognizable part was the head, which was carefully preserved for identification. That was the only way to draw Lethla off guard. Burnett spun about and leaped. ramrod stabbed Sam Burnett, catching him in the ribs, spinning him back He didn't finish laughing for maybe ten minutes. He heard the retriever claws come inside, and the star-port grind shut. Out of the red darkness, Rice's voice came and then he could see Rice's young face over him. Burnett groaned. "To hell with it." Burnett winced, and fought to keep his eyes open. be next. Who'd have thought, four days ago—" Something happened to his tongue so it felt like hard ice blocking his Burnett was lying down, not moving, but somehow Rice was going away a

<question>:
What item on board the ship does Burnett use an improvised weapon?

<options>:
A The blood-pumps
B The rockets
C His surgical tools
D The mechanical claw

<answer>:

D