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

<passage>:
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] Duane's hand flicked to his waist and hung there, poised. His dis-gun remained undrawn. The tall, white-haired man—Stevens—smiled. "You're right, Duane," he said. "I could blast you, too. Nobody would win that way, so let's leave the guns where they are." Duane said, "Do I have to kill you?" It was only a question as he asked it, without threatening. A muted alarm bell sounded through the P.A. speakers, signaling a one-minute warning. The white-haired man cocked his eyebrow. "Not at all," he said. He took the measure of his slim, red-headed "Damn you!" Duane flared. "I was promised fifty thousand. I need that money. Do you think—" "Forget what I think," Stevens said, his voice clipped and angry. "I don't care about fairness, Duane, except to myself. I've done all the Duane stared at him a long second, then nodded abruptly. "I was right have to kill you!" Already his hand was streaking toward the grip of his dis-gun, touching it, drawing it forth. But the white-haired man was faster. His arms swept up and pinioned Duane, holding him impotent. "Don't be a fool," he grated. "Duane—" heard it. Duane lunged forward into the taller man's grip, sliding down to the floor. The white-haired man grappled furiously to keep his hold on Peter's gun arm, but Peter was slipping away. Belatedly, Stevens went for his own gun. He was too late. Duane's was out and leveled at him. " Now gravity. The two men, locked together, floated weightlessly out to the center of the corridor. "Course change!" gasped white-haired Stevens. "Good God!" battle against its own built-up acceleration. The corridor floor rose up with blinking speed to smite them— And the lights went out in a burst of crashing pain for Peter Duane. Someone was talking to him. Duane tried to force an eye open to see who "In the sick bay," she said. "You got caught out when the ship changed course. Lucky you weren't hurt, Peter. The man you were with—the old, white-haired one, Stevens—wasn't so lucky. He was underneath when the jets went on. Three ribs broken—his lung was punctured. He died in the other room an hour ago." Duane screwed his eyes tight together and grimaced. When he opened them again there was alertness and clarity in them—but there was also bafflement. Duane shook his head confusedly. "I don't know anything," he said. "Duane, Duane," a man's heavy voice said. "That won't wash. Don't play "Duane?" he said. "Duane...." He swiveled his head and saw a dark, The nurse, still eyeing Duane with an odd bewilderment, said: "I'll the smile dropped from his face. "You play rough, Duane," he observed. "I thought you'd have trouble with Stevens. I didn't think you'd find it necessary to put him out of the way so permanently. Well, no matter. If you had to kill him, it's bent closer, peered at Duane. "I almost think—" he began. Then he shook his head. "No," he said. "You're lying all right. You killed Stevens to get his share—and now you're trying to hold me up. That's your last chance that just went by, Duane. From now on, I'm running this show!" "Duane here is resisting arrest," Andrias said. "Take him along. We'll while the two uniformed men shoved Duane into the back of the car, climbed in beside him. Andrias gave a curt order, and the car shot My name, it seems, is Peter Duane The thought was starkly incredible to him. A white-haired man, it had been someone named Stevens. He tried to remember. Yes, there had been a white-haired man. And there had been an argument. Something to do with money, with a shipment of goods that Stevens had supplied to Duane. There has even been talk of killing.... But—murder! Duane looked at his hands helplessly. Duane sat down on a lumpy, sagging bed and buried his head in his That's why he'll pay for electron rifles with their weight in gold. " Duane could remember the scene clearly. Could almost see the sharp, aquiline face of the man who had spoken to him. But there memory stopped. of the great craters. Duane remembered sitting in a low-ceilinged, smoke-heavy room, across the table from a tall man with white hair. Stevens! " Four thousand electron rifles violence when the trigger was pulled, spraying radiant death three thousand yards in the direction the gun was aimed.... And that memory ended. Duane got up, stared at his haggard face in the cracked mirror over His reflection—white, drawn face made all the more pallid by the red hair that blazed over it—stared back at him. There was no answer there. If only he could remember— "All right, Duane." The deep voice of a guard came to him as the door swung open. "Stop making eyes at yourself." The trick failed to work. Duane had other things on his mind handed it to Duane. "In spite of your behavior, you can keep alive. You can even collect the money for the guns—Stevens' share as well Duane said, without expression, "No." Duane looked at the man's eyes. Death was behind them, peeping out. That was a shot in the dark—and it missed the mark. Andrias' eyes widened. "You amaze me, Duane," he said. He rose and stepped around the desk, confronting Duane. "I almost think you really have lost your memory, Duane," he said. "Otherwise, surely you would know that this is all the rifles I need. With them I'll Duane said, "You're ready, then...." Duane saw his danger, and reacted. His foot twisted around Andrias' him. His head made an audible, spine-chilling thud as it hit the carpeted floor. Duane got up, retrieving the two heat guns, and stared at him. " They tell me I killed Stevens the same way ," he thought. " I'm Duane stepped over the unconscious man and looked around the room. It Duane took the release he had signed and tore it to shreds. But that An idea bloomed in Duane's brain. He looked, then, at unconscious Duane's fingers Duane's head, butting Andrias in the face, had drawn a he saw the man grimace and an arm flopped spasmodically on the floor. Consciousness was on its way back. Duane touched the heat gun he'd thrust into his belt drew it and held it poised, while he sought to discover what was in his own mind. He'd killed a man already, they said. Was he then a killer—could he shoot Andrias now, in cold blood, with so much to gain and nothing to lose? He stood there a moment. Then, abruptly, he reversed the weapon and ," Duane thought. " Duane's foot lashed out and the door slammed shut Duane's balled left fist came up and connected with the guard's chin. Abruptly the man slumped. Duane took a deep breath and let the man drop to the floor. But he

<question>:
Did Duane actually kill Stevens? How do you know?

<options>:
A No, because even though he was attempting to kill Stevens, he blacked out before he had the chance.
B No, because the nurse said that Stevens died  of a head injury an hour before Duane woke up.
C Yes, because once Duane woke up with amnesia, Andrias told him that he had killed Stevens.
D Yes, because he shot Stevens with his dis-gun just before he blacked out.

<answer>:

A