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

<passage>:
that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] In order to make Izaak Walton's sport complete, there must be an angler, a fish, and some bait. All three existed on Arz but there was a question as to which was which. The third night of the inevitable pre-dawn rainbow began to shimmer over the eastern ocean. Sunrise brought him alert with a jerk, frowning at sight of two pinkish, outside. "Roll out on the double! I'm going to magnofilm this!" butchery gets on my nerves." water. "You know I can't do that, Arthur. These Arzians may turn out to be Fifth Order beings or higher, and under Terran Regulations our tampering with what may be a basic culture-pattern would amount to armed invasion. We'll have to crack that cackle-and-grunt language of theirs and learn something of their mores before we can interfere." gathering, nets and fishing spears in hand, at the edge of the sheltering bramble forest. "What stumps me is their motivation," he said. "Why do the fools go out to that islet every night, when they must know damned well what will happen next morning?" entire globe in the scouter and found nothing but water and a scattering of little islands like this one, all covered with bramble. It wasn't a beyond them by a million years." Stryker and Farrell traded baffled looks. The city had become something of a fixation with Gibson, and his dogged insistence—coupled with an irritating habit of being right—had worn their patience thin. "Get set! Here they come!" feet in length and a glistening chlorophyll green in the early light. as usual, to stop the slaughter." "A neat example of dog eat dog," Farrell said, snapping off the forest, ignoring the Earthmen, and lined the casting ledges along the beach to begin their day's fishing. stubbornly. "But it's here somewhere, and I'm going to find it. Will either of you be using the scouter today?" you won't find anything." a vague sense of that the discrepancy assumed definite form. He recalled then that on the first day of the of the pink fishers had fallen from a casting ledge into the water, and would surely have gone in after him. completed itself with automatic logic, almost rousing Farrell out of his doze. "I'll be damned," he muttered. "No boats, and they don't swim. " He fell asleep with the paradox unresolved. cubicle and broke a packaged meal from the food locker. The visicom over "He's scouring the daylight side now," Stryker said. "Arthur, I'm going to ground Gib tomorrow, much as I dislike giving him a direct order. be." Farrell shrugged. "I'd agree with you offhand if it weren't for Gib's bullheaded habit of being right. I hope he finds it soon, if it's here. I'll probably be standing his watch until he's satisfied." already, the close, soft night of a moonless tropical world whose moist Farrell lit his pipe and turned to the inconsistencies he had uncovered. startled. Why two? Why not three or four, or only one? He stepped out through the open lock and paced restlessly up and down on the springy turf, feeling the ocean breeze soft on his face. Three days of dull routine logwork had built up a need for physical action that chafed his temper he was intrigued and at the same time annoyed by the squids, and his desire to understand that relation was aggravated by the knowledge that Arz could be a perfect world for Terran colonization. That is, he thought wryly, if Terran colonists could stomach the weird custom pursued by its natives of committing suicide in pairs. He went over again the improbable drama of the past three mornings, and found it not too unnatural until he came to the motivation and the means his whole fabric of speculation fell into a tangled snarl of inconsistencies. He gave it up finally how could any Earthman rationalize the outlandish compulsions that actuated so alien a race? his restlessness. He made his decision abruptly, laying aside the He did not choose a weapon because he saw no need for one. The torch "Damn Terran Regulations," he muttered. "I've got to know ." briskly, eager for action now that he had begun. Just inside the edge of the bramble he came upon a pair of Arzians curled up together on the unrevealing. He worked deeper into the underbrush and found other sleeping couples, center of the island without further discovery and was on the point of from behind. lassitude swept him into a darkness deeper than the Arzian night. His last conscious thought was not of his own danger, but of Stryker—asleep and unprotected behind the open port.... prismatic glimmer of early-dawn rainbow shining on the water before him. but for some seconds his shuttling mind was too busy to consider the danger of predicament. Whatever brought me here anesthetized me first , he thought. more seconds passed before he gained control of himself, sweating with the He bent every ounce of his will toward raising his right hand, and failed. His arm was like a limb of lead, its inertia too great to budge. He surface ripples. resting between thorn forest and against the inner curve of his elbow. He bent his will again toward motion through him. If he could put pressure enough against the stud.... !" He gathered himself for another shout, and recalled with a chill of horror the tablet Stryker had mixed into his nightcap the night before. suggestion of flapping wings. "Farrell! What the devil are you doing on that butcher's block?" Farrell fought down an insane desire to laugh. "Never mind that—get here fast, Gib! The flying-lizards—" outcrop just under the surface of the water, waiting with barbed with shock-born lucidity: . The scouter settled on the outcrop beside Farrell, so close that the hot The scouter darted for shore with Farrell lying across Gibson's knees in Farrell had a last dizzy glimpse of the islet against the rush of green water below, and felt his shaky laugh of relief stick in his throat. Two of the octopods were swimming strongly for shore, holding the rigid Arthur. Just hang on tight. I'll explain everything when we get you safe in the ." Farrell forced himself to relax, more relieved than alarmed by the In the chair. The paralysis was still wearing off slowly, easing Farrell's fear of being permanently disabled. bottom—a city to compare with anything men ever built." "None," Gibson said. "I think the city must have been built ages ago—by men or by a manlike race, judging from the architecture—and was submerged later by a sinking of land masses that killed off the original builders and left Arz nothing but an oversized archipelago. The squids took over then, and from all appearances they've developed a culture of their own." "Are cattle, or less," Gibson finished. "The octopods are the dominant race, and they're so far above Fifth Order that we're completely out of armed invasion." surface colonization conflict with an undersea culture, Gib? Why couldn't we share the planet?" the squid-people, making a dry-land canvass of his preserve here to pick a couple of victims for this morning's show, that carried you off last "Colonization being out of the question, we may as well move on before the octopods get curious enough about us to make trouble. Do you feel up don't think I want to stick here and be used for bait again, do you?" free of Arz.

<question>:
Of the following options, what is a potential moral of this story?

<options>:
A Exploration of the unknown can lead to many surprises.
B Discovery is fun and can be done without inherently endangering one's wellbeing.
C Communication with other species and cultures is a delicate process that needs to be done with care.
D Learning is a process that takes time and can be best done independently.

<answer>:

A