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 published in 1963. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was Circus "Just suppose," said Morgan, "that I did believe you. Just too ordinary, Morgan thought. Finally the man looked up. His eyes were dark, with a hunted look in their depths that chilled Morgan a little. "Where got to believe me, Morgan. I'm lost, I mean it. If I can't get help, I don't know where it's going to 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 up and they'll lose the key somewhere." He poured himself 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." "All right, let's start from the beginning again," Morgan say your name is Parks—right?" Parks nodded. " Parks' eyes widened. "I—I was speechless. At 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 language?" "Oh, yes. I don't see how I could have, but I did. We talked all the way into New York—nothing very important, but we understood each other. His speech had an odd sound, but—" Morgan nodded. "I know, I noticed. What did you do when you got to New York?" "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. Treasury or something. When he saw that I was serious, he sent me to a money lender, a hock shop, I think he called it. So I found a place—" Parks dropped two small gold discs on the table. They were perfectly smooth and perfectly round, tapered by wear to a thin blunt edge. There was no design on them, and no printing. Morgan looked up at the man sharply. "What did you get for these?" Parks shrugged. "Too little, I suspect. Two dollars for the small one, five for the larger." "You should have gone to a bank." "I know that now. I didn't then. Naturally, I assumed that Morgan sighed and leaned back in his chair. "Well, then what?" Parks poured some more coffee. His face was very pale, Morgan thought, and his hands trembled as he raised the cup to his lips. Fright? Maybe. Hard to tell. The man put down the cup and rubbed his forehead with the back of his hand. think what anyone at home would do in my place. That seemed a good bet. I asked a policeman where it was, and then I went there." "But you didn't get to see him." and that I would have to have an appointment. She let me speak to another man, one of the mayor's assistants." "And you told him?" "No. I wanted to see the mayor himself. I thought that was the best thing to do. I waited for a couple of hours, until another assistant came along and told me flatly that the mayor a deep breath. "So I stated it. And then I was gently but firmly ushered back into the street again." "They didn't believe you," said Morgan. "Not for a minute. They laughed in my face." Morgan nodded. "I'm beginning to get the pattern. So what did you do next?" "Next I tried the police. I got the same treatment there, when they asked me where I lived, they thought I was—what did they call it?—a wise guy! Told me to get out and not come back with any more wild stories." "I see," said Morgan. But there was nothing any more significant than that. Absolutely nothing." "Except yourself," Morgan said. fingerprints, bone structure, body proportion. I still couldn't find anything. Then I went to a doctor." Morgan's eyebrows lifted. "Good," he said. Parks shrugged tiredly. "Not really. He examined me. He practically took me apart. I carefully refrained from saying on the back and said, 'Parks, you've got nothing to worry being as I've ever seen.' And that was that." Parks laughed Morgan nodded sourly. "Because you're not a human being," he said. "How did you happen to pick this planet, or this sun?" Morgan asked curiously. "There must have been a million others to choose from." Parks unbuttoned his collar and rubbed his stubbled chin 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 Morgan. "The same! Your planet and mine are practically twins. the other side of the universe from mine, with the first intelligent 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. " Morgan shrugged. "So it's true. I won't argue with you. But as I asked before, even if I did There was a desperate light in Parks' eyes. "I was tired, tired 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 They could fill in what I don't know and build a guide beam. But they won't do it if they don't believe me. Your government won't listen to me, they won't appropriate any money." "Of course they won't. They've got a war or two on their hands, they have public welfare, and atomic bombs, and rockets to the moon to sink their money into." Morgan stared at the man. "But what can I ! That's what you can do. You can tell the 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 nobody would believe you?" " Not one soul. Until I talked to you." And then Morgan was laughing, laughing bitterly, tears rolling down his cheeks. "And I'm the one man who couldn't help you if my life depended on it," he gasped. "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." Jefferson Parks gripped the table, his knuckles white. "Why?" he cried hoarsely. "If you believe me, why can't you help me?" Morgan pointed to the magazine lying on the table. "I write, yes," he said sadly. "Ever read stories like this before?" Parks picked up the magazine, glanced at the bright cover. "I barely looked at it." "You should look more closely. I have a story in this issue. The readers thought it was very interesting," Morgan grinned. "Go ahead, look at it." The stranger from the stars leafed through the magazine, stopped at a page that carried Roger Morgan's name. His eyes caught the first paragraph and he turned white. He set the magazine down with a trembling hand. "I see," he said, and

<question>:
Why did Morgan think that Parks' world was an alternate reality version of his own?

<options>:
A Parks told him that this was the case
B Parks looked too different from regular humans to be from his own world
C There were too many similarities between the worlds and societies on them
D The government let Morgan know that this was true

<answer>:

C