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

<passage>:
Stories by Alan E. Nourse without note. Circus "Just table. "Where would we go from here?" Finally the man looked up. His eyes were dark, with a hunted look in their depths that chilled Morgan a little. "Where do we go? I don't know. I've tried to think it out, and I get nowhere. But you've end." "I'll tell you where it's going to end," said Morgan. "It's going to end in a hospital. A mental hospital. They'll lock you another cup of coffee and sipped it, scalding hot. "And that," he added, "will be that." The place was dark and almost empty. Overhead, a rotary fan swished patiently. The man across from Morgan ran a hand through his dark hair. "There must be some other way," he said. "There has to be." "Fine. Now go through the whole story again. What happened and tried to flag down a ride." "How did you feel? I mean, was there anything strange that first I hadn't noticed too much—I was concerned with the fall, and whether I was hurt or not. I didn't really think about much else until I hobbled up to that highway and saw those cars coming. Then I could hardly believe my eyes. I thought I was crazy. But a car stopped and asked me if I was going into the city, and I knew I wasn't crazy." Morgan's mouth took a grim line. "You understood the "Well, obviously, I needed money. I had gold coin. There had been no way of knowing if it would be useful, but I'd taken it on chance. I tried to use it at a newsstand first, and the man wouldn't touch it. Asked me if I thought I was the U.S. perfectly smooth and perfectly round, tapered by wear to a with everything else so similar, principles of business would what?" Morgan nodded. "I'm beginning to get the pattern. So what only they weren't so gentle. They wouldn't listen either. They muttered something about cranks and their crazy notions, and when they asked me where I lived, they thought I was—what I tried to rationalize it, and then I quit trying. It wasn't that I attracted attention, or anything like that, quite the contrary. Nobody even looked at me, unless I said something to different I could show them, and say, see, this proves that I'm telling "And what did you find?" "Nothing. Oh, little things, insignificant little things. Your frame of reference. And the coinage, you stamp your coins we don't. And cigarettes. We don't have any such thing as tobacco." The man gave a short laugh. "And your house dogs! We have little animals that look more like rabbits than poodles. But there was nothing any more significant than that. Absolutely nothing." "Except yourself," Morgan said. "Ah, yes. I thought that over carefully. I looked for differences, obvious ones. I couldn't find any. You can see that, just looking at me. So I searched for more subtle things. Skin texture, fingerprints, bone structure, body proportion. I still anything about who I was or where I came from to it. He was thorough, and when he finished he patted me on the back and said, 'Parks, you've got nothing to worry about. You're as fine, strapping a specimen of a healthy human bitterly. "I guess I was supposed to be happy with the verdict, defied reason, it was infuriating." Morgan nodded sourly. "Because you're not a human being," he said. "That's right. I'm not a human being at all." "How did you happen to pick this planet, or this sun?" Morgan asked curiously. "There must have been a million others to choose from." unhappily. "I didn't make the choice. Neither did anyone else. Travel by warp is a little different from travel by the rocket you fiction writers make so much of. With a rocket vehicle you pick your destination, make your calculations, and off you go. The warp is blind flying, strictly blind. We send an unmanned scanner ahead. It probes around more or less hit-or-miss until it locates something, somewhere, that looks habitable. When it spots a likely looking place, we keep a tight beam on it and send through a manned scout." He grinned sourly. "Like me. If it looks good to the scout, he signals back, and they leave the warp anchored for a sort of permanent gateway until we can get a transport beam built. But we can't control the directional and dimensional scope of the warp. There are an infinity of ways it can go, until we have a guide beam transmitting from the other side. Then we can just scan a segment of space with the warp, and the scanner picks up the beam." He shook his head wearily. "We're new at it, Morgan. We've only tried a few dozen runs. We're not too far ahead of you in technology. We've been using rocket vehicles just like yours for over a century. That's fine for a solar system, but it's not much good for the stars. When the warp principle was discovered, it looked like the answer. But something went wrong, the scanner picked up this planet, and I was coming through, and then something blew. Next thing I knew I was falling. When I tried to make contact again, the scanner was gone!" "And you found things here the same as back home," said Morgan. "The same! Your planet and mine are practically twins. Similar cities, similar technology, everything. The people are the same, with precisely the same anatomy and physiology, the same sort of laws, the same institutions, even compatible languages. Can't you see the importance of it? This planet is on the other side of the universe from mine, with the first intelligent life we've yet encountered anywhere. But when I try to tell your people that I'm a native of another star system, they won't believe me !" "Why should they?" asked Morgan. "You look like a human being. You talk like one. You eat like one. You act like one. What you're asking them to believe is utterly incredible." " But it's true. believe you, what do you to do about it? Why pick me , of all the people you've seen?" You were here, you were alone, so I started talking. And then I found out you wrote stories." He looked up eagerly. "I've got to get back, Morgan, somehow. My life is there, my family. And think what it would mean to both of our worlds—contact with another intelligent race! Combine our knowledges, our technologies, and we could explore the galaxy!" He leaned forward, his thin face intense. "I need money and I need help. I know some of the mathematics of the warp principle, know some of the design, some of the power and wiring principles. You have engineers here, technologists, physicists. "Of course they won't. They've got a war or two on their do?" write world about me, you can tell exactly what has happened. I know how public interest can be aroused in my world. It must be the same in yours." Morgan didn't move. He just stared. "How many people have you talked to?" he asked. "A dozen, a hundred, maybe a thousand." "And how many believed you?" "None." "You mean would believe you?" " Not one soul. Until I talked to you." "You believe me?" Morgan nodded sadly. "I believe you. Yes. I think your warp brought you through to a parallel universe of your own planet, not to another star, but I think you're telling the truth." "Then you can help me." "I'm afraid not." "Why not?" Morgan pointed to the magazine lying on the table. "I write, "You should look more closely. I have a story in this issue. "Go ahead, look at it." The stranger from the stars leafed through the magazine, the life was gone out of his voice. He spread the pages viciously, The paragraph said: for argument." He glanced up at the man across the table. "Where do we go from here?"

<question>:
What is a theme of the story?

<options>:
A People who tell lies often will eventually get themselves into trouble.
B The truth does not matter if no one believes it.
C Space travel is dangerous.
D There are aliens walking among us.

<answer>:

B