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

<passage>:
sick, but it was written that he would never die. Of course, it was up to the Earth doctor to see that he didn't! [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from it. The call from Morua II came in quite innocently, relayed to the ship from HQ in Standard GPP Contract code for crash priority, which meant Top Grade Planetary Emergency, and don't argue about it, fellows, just get there, fast. Red Doctor Sam Jenkins took one look at the call-source like a hound on a fox. The fact that Morua II was a Class VI planet didn't quite register with anybody, just then. Ten minutes later the Red Doctor reached for the results of the Initial bodily. The last time an Earth ship landed there half the crew was summarily shot and the others came home with their ears cut off. Seems the folks on Morua II didn't want a Contract with Hospital Earth. And they're still in the jungle, as far as their medicine goes. Witch doctors and spells." He tossed the Info-card down the chute with a growl. "So now we have an emergency call from them in a Contract code they couldn't possibly know." The surgeon in the green undershorts chewed his lip. "Looks like If we still happen to be around later, that is." It had always been that way. Since the first formal Medical Service Contract had been signed with Deneb III centuries before, Hospital Earth had laboriously built its reputation on that single foundation stone: immediate medical assistance, without question or hesitation, whenever and wherever it was required, on any planet bound by Contract. That was the law, for Hospital Earth could not afford to jeopardize a Contract. In the early days of galactic exploration, of course, Medical Services was only a minor factor in an expanding commercial network that drew transport, and in production techniques—but Earth stood unrivaled in its development of the biological sciences. Wherever an Earth ship landed, the crew was soon rendering Medical Services of one sort or another, whether they had planned it that way or not. On Deneb III the Medical Service Contract was formalized, and Hospital Earth came into being. Into all known corners of the galaxy ships of the General Practice Patrol were dispatched—"Galactic Pill Peddlers" forging a chain of Contracts from Aldebaran to Zarn, accepting calls, diagnosing ills, arranging for proper disposition of whatever medical problems they came across. Serious problems were shuttled back to Hospital Earth without delay more frequently the GPP crews—doctors of the Red and surgery—were able to handle the problems on the spot and by themselves. It was a rugged service for a single planet to provide, and it was costly. Many planets studied the terms of Contract and declined, physicians, eh?" He eyed them up and down as though he disapproved of Aguar halted them at the door-way. "His Eminence will see you," he growled. "Who is His Eminence?" Jenkins asked. "The Lord High Emperor of All Morua and Creator of the Galaxies," Aguar rumbled. "He is the Tenth Son of a Tenth Son, and it is written that he can never die. When you enter, bow," he added. The Tenth Son of a Tenth Son couldn't have cared less whether they His Eminence looked up at them from bloodshot eyes and greeted them "He is afflicted with a Pox, as any fool can see. All others it kills—but His Eminence is the Tenth Son of a Tenth Son, and it is "What about your own doctors?" cure all, the stories say. You are very wise, they say. You balance consult your physicians. We'll need healthy Moruans to examine—" antibiotic was more deadly to the race than the virus was...." "Might not be such a bad idea for Morua," the Red Doctor muttered send in a full crew of technicians to a newly-Contracted planet to make the initial Bio-survey of the indigenous races. Bio-chemists, physiologists, anatomists, microbiologists, radiologists—survey work among organ systems could be categorized, tested, studied, and compared, and the information used in combating native disease. Given no major setbacks, and full cooperation of the natives, the job only handled external examinations and blood and tissue chemistries ran the X-ray and pan-endoscopic examinations. After four grueling His Eminence bows out, somebody has to bow in, right? Maybe you, huh?" Kiz began sputtering indignantly the Red Doctor cut him off. "It adds up," he said heatedly. "You've got the power, you've got your magic and all. Maybe you were the boys that turned thumbs down so violently on the idea of a Hospital Earth Contract, eh? Couldn't risk having outsiders cutting in on your trade." Jenkins rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "But somehow it seems to me you'd have a whale of a lot in bewilderment. "You're going to kill him," he moaned. "Prayers, promises, pills and post-mortems. That's the Medical service for you." Sam grinned. "Maybe you should operate on him. That "No thanks, not me. This is a medical case and it's all yours. What do you want me to do?" they expect the Spirit of the Pox to come out of His Eminence when at the foot of the bed and beat His Eminence steadily for one hour out of four, with new rawhide. When His Eminence protested this, we were Eminence, he reflected, must have had the constitution of an ox. He glanced over at the panting figure on the bed. "But doesn't fighting, but the tube went down. The Red Doctor ground three white Eminence and the plink-plink of the pestle on the mortar. The flask of In the sickroom His Eminence was drenched with sweat, his face patient's vital signs, wiped more sweat from his furry brow. Quite it on the stone floor. Then he grabbed the wizard's paw, raising it high. "You've done well!" he cried to the bewildered physician. "It's over now—the Spirit has departed. His Eminence will recover." They escorted him in triumphal procession back to the Lancet Wally Stone stared in disbelief as Jenkins and Kiz bowed and hugged each other like long-lost brothers at a sad farewell. "I finally got through to somebody at HQ," he said as the Red Doctor climbed aboard. "It'll take them twenty days at least, to get help, considering that Morua is not a Contract planet and we're not supposed to be here in the first place, but that's the best they can do...." Services of Hospital Earth. "Take a look, my boy—the juiciest Medical Services Contract that's been written in three centuries—" He tossed the Contract in the dry-storage locker with a sigh. "Old Kiz just finished his first lesson, and he's still wondering what went on—" "So am I," said the Green Doctor suspiciously. "It was simple. We cured His Eminence of the Pox." "With what? Incantations?" "Oh, the incantations were for the expected them, obviously, since that was the only level of medicine Bio-survey we were hamstrung. But whatever the Pox is, it obviously involves fever, starvation and dehydration. I knew that His Eminence "Not quite," said the Red Doctor. "You're forgetting that I had one other prescription to use—the oldest, most trustworthy healer-of-all-ills known to medicine, just as potent now as it was a thousand years ago. Without it, Hospital Earth might just as well pack up her little black bag and go home." He smiled into the mirror as he adjusted the scarlet band of the Red Service across his shoulders. "We

<question>:
What was the highest priority of the Doctors while treating His Eminence?

<options>:
A Learning about his ailment so they could cure it elsewhere in the galaxy
B Sparing their own lives
C Fulfilling their hippocratic oath to do no harm to His Eminence
D Convincing His Eminence to sign a contract with Hospital Earth

<answer>:

B