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

<passage>:
In order to make Izaak Walton's sport complete, there must was a question as to which was which. The third night of the Marco Four's planet was a repetition of the two before it, a nine-hour intermission of drowsy, pastoral peace. Navigator Arthur Farrell—it was his turn to stand watch—was sitting at an open-side port with a magnoscanner ready offshore, their blank triangular faces turned stolidly toward the beach. cook than like the veteran commander of a Terran Colonies expedition. Gibson followed, stretching his powerfully-muscled body like a wrestler to throw off the effects of sleep. Gibson was linguist-ethnologist of the crew, a blocky man in his early thirties with thick black hair and heavy brows that shaded a square, humorless face. 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." Farrell turned an irritable stare on the incurious group of Arzians gathering, nets and fishing spears in hand, at the edge of the "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 city these pink fishers could have built, either. The architecture was 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. we were making planetfall, that's all." "Get set! Here they come!" as usual, to stop the slaughter." behind three of their number who disappeared under the surface like Chattering pink natives straggled past from the shelter of the thorn forest, ignoring the Earthmen, and lined the casting ledges along the beach to begin their day's fishing. "Nothing we've seen yet could have built that city," Gibson said that the discrepancy assumed definite form. He recalled then that on the first day of the Marco's planetfall one had all but drowned before his fellows pulled him out with extended spear-shafts. Which meant that the fishers could not swim, else some would surely have gone in after him. And the Marco's crew had explored Arz exhaustively without finding any completed itself with automatic logic, almost rousing Farrell out of his Then how the devil do they get out to that islet? " He fell asleep with the paradox unresolved. the control board hummed softly, its screen blank on open channel. "Gibson found his lost city yet?" Farrell asked, and grinned when Stryker snorted. understand how dangerous to our assignment an obsession of that sort can be." 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 enigmatic relation that linked the Arzian fishers to the dragons and 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 of transportation that placed the Arzians in pairs on the islet, when 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? He went inside again, and the sound of Stryker's muffled snoring fanned He did not choose a weapon because he saw no need for one. The torch would show him how the natives reached the outcrop, and if he should need help the audicom would summon Stryker. Investigating without Regulations, but— "Damn Terran Regulations," he muttered. "I've got to know ." mossy ground, sleeping soundly, their triangular faces wholly blank and unrevealing. He worked deeper into the underbrush and found other sleeping couples, but nothing else. There were no humming insects, no twittering night-birds or scurrying rodents. He had worked his way close to the center of the island without further discovery and was on the point of muscles of balance and respiration his body was paralyzed. 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 failed. returned with the scouter. He grew aware then that sensation was returning to him slowly, that the through him. If he could put pressure enough against the stud.... !" Worn out by his work, Stryker had made certain that he would not be easily disturbed. The flattened sun-disk on the water brightened and grew rounder. Above with shock-born lucidity: I wanted a backstage look at this show, and now I'm one of the cast . in the ." Farrell forced himself to relax, more relieved than alarmed by the In the of being permanently disabled. "We never saw the city from the scouter because we didn't go high enough," Gibson said. "I realized that finally, remembering how they used high-altitude blimps during the First Wars to spot submarines, and when I took the scouter up far enough there it was, at the ocean Stryker stared. "A marine city? What use would sea-creatures have for buildings?" "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 "Invasion of a squid world?" Farrell protested, baffled. "Why should surface colonization conflict with an undersea culture, Gib? Why couldn't we share the planet?" "Because the octopods own the islands too, and keep them policed," a couple of victims for this morning's show, that carried you off last world, Arthur, don't you see? And like most civilized peoples, they're sportsmen. The flying-lizards are the game they hunt, and they raise the couldn't spot their motivation!" Gibson got up and sealed the port, shutting out the soft morning breeze. "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 to the acceleration, Arthur?" Farrell and Stryker looked at each other, grinning. Farrell said: "You don't think I want to stick here and be used for bait again, do you?" He and Stryker were still grinning over it when Gibson, unamused, blasted the

<question>:
Did the characters accomplish their goal?

<options>:
A No. The characters had many questions, some of which were resolved, but a few important ones were left unanswered.
B No. The characters learned something they didn't want to know and it caused them to want to defy orders.
C Yes. They learned what they wanted to learn and made good choices based on what they learned.
D Yes. Not only did they learn what they needed to, but they had fun interactions with the species on the planet which improved their understanding.

<answer>:

C