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

<passage>:
MESSAGE. "Amen! Amen! Amen! Stop." Commander Strykalski smoothed out the in the mellow light. "Maybe," he began hopefully, "It could be a forgery?" Strike shook his head. Lieutenant Whitley looked crestfallen. "Then perhaps old Brass-bottom Gorman means some other guy named Strykalski?" To Cob, eight Martinis made anything possible. "Could there be two Strykalskis?" demanded the owner of the name under discussion. "No." Whitley sighed unhappily. "And there's only one Tellurian Rocket rump! Gorman means us. And I think we've been had, that's what I think!" "Tethys isn't so bad," protested Strike. Cob raised a hand to his eyes as though to blot out the sight of that Hendricks again, I know you! Tethys!" Strike made a passing effort to look stern and failed. "You mean Project Warp?" Cob made a sour face. "Project Warp, yet! Sounds like a dog barking!" nearby scowled at Whitley. The Lieutenant subsided with a final small, turned on his stool to survey the small dance floor. The music and the subdued lights made him think of Ivy Hendricks. He really wanted to see her again. It had been a long time since that memorable flight when out of a tight spot on a perihelion run. Ivy was good to work with ... good to be around. But there was apparently more to this transfer than just Ivy pulling wires to see him again. Things were tense in the System since Probe Fleet skeeterboats had discovered a race of group-minded, non-human had refused any commerce with the Solar Combine. So, reflected Strike, the transfer of the to Tethys for work under the Bureau of Research and Development meant innovations and tests. And Commander Strykalski was concerned. The beloved Old Aphrodisiac didn't take kindly to innovations. At least she never had before, and Strike could see no reason to suppose the cantankerous Cleopatra's Radar Officer, and like all the rest, bound with chains of affection to the cranky old in no other. That's the way Strike ran his crew, and that's the way the Office. There was a smile on her face as she extended her hand. "It's good to see you again, Strike." Strykalski studied her. Yes, she hadn't changed. She was still the Ivy Hendricks he remembered. She was still calm, still lovely, and still very, very competent. "It's a good thing," returned Ivy, still smiling, "that I'll be back at my old job for a while, then." Strykalski raised his eyebrows inquisitively. Before Ivy could explain, Cob and Celia Graham burst noisily into the room and the greetings began again. Ivy, as a former member of the "Now, what I would like to know," Cob demanded when the small talk had been disposed of, "is what's with this 'Project Warp'? What are you planning for Lover-Girl? Your techmen are tearing into her like she was "And why was the alien . It seems that there's at least one other space interlocked and "Why us?" Cob asked thoughtfully. "I'll answer that," offered Strike, "Lover-Girl's a surge circuit monitor, and it's a safe bet this operation takes plenty of power." He looked over to Ivy. "Am I right?" "Right on the nose, Strike," she returned. Then she broke into a wide "Captain Hendricks!" cried the man excitedly, "A message is coming through from the Proxima transsender ... they're under attack!" Strykalski was on his feet. "Attack!" "The nonhumans from Eridanus have launched a major invasion of the Strike felt the bottom dropping out of his stomach, and he knew that "Hold on, Strike!" Ivy Hendricks intervened, "What about the tests?" Strykalski's face was dead set. "I mean it, Ivy." "All right, Strike. I'll be ready," Ivy Hendricks said coolly. Exactly three hours and five minutes later, the newly created When Cob asked why, Strike replied that knowing Gorman, they could expect orders from Luna Base ordering them either to attack or rather dryly that it was likely to be the former, since Space Admiral Gorman had no great affection for either the Cleopatra or her crew. Ivy Hendricks joined them after stowing her gear, and when Whitley asked her opinion, she agreed with Strike. Her experiences with Gorman had been as unfortunate as any of the others. "I was afraid you'd say that," grumbled Cob, "I was just hoping you wouldn't." "Just give me the dope," ordered Strike. "Acknowledge," ordered Strykalski. "Wilco. Communications out." Strike made an I-told-you-so gesture to his Executive. Then he turned "A perfect check with the plotted course! How's that for fancy dead Strike took over the squawk-box. "Right here, Celia. What is it?" Strike cursed. "They've spotted us and they want to scoop us in with that force net! Damn that group-mind of theirs ... it makes for uncanny co-ordination!" He turned back to the communicator. "Cob! Are you on?" "Shift into second-order! We'll have to try and run their net!" "Communications!" called Strike. for any of them ... and she dug her fingernails into her palms trying not to be afraid. Strykalski was rapping out his orders with machine-gun rapidity, making ready to fight his ship if need be ... and against lop-sided odds. But years of training were guiding him now. violence of new atoms being created from old. But there were too many. They hemmed her in, heat rays ever slashing, wounding her. Strykalski fought her controls, cursing her, coaxing her. Damage reports were flowing into the flying bridge from every point in the monitor's body. Lover-Girl was being hurt ... hurt badly. Ivy stumbled across the throbbing deck to stand at Strykalski's side. "The hyper drive!" she yelled, "The hyper drive!" It was a chance. It was the only chance ... for Lover-Girl and Ivy and Cob and Celia ... for all of them. He had to chance it. "Ivy!" he called over his shoulder, "Check with Engineering! See if the thing's hooked into the surge circuit!" At last the communicator began to flash red. Strike opened the circuit Strykalski lurched from his chair as another ray caught the ship for an instant and heated a spot on the wall to a cherry red. Gods! he prayed fervently. Let it work! The sudden silence was like a physical blow. Strike staggered to the glowing !" Cob and Strykalski rushed back to the port, straining to see the catfish!" Strike turned to Ivy. "What do you think it is?" Strykalski found himself at the port again, looking out into the vast stretch of alien void. Terror was seeping like dampness through him, stretching cold fingers into his heart and mind. He realized that apart from their kind. He felt rejected, scorned and lost. Then Strike broke the spell. The effort was great, but it brushed away Strykalski reached for the squawk-box and called Bayne. "Astrogation here," came the shaky reply. In the exposed blisters the agoraphobia must be more acute, reasoned Strike, and Bayne must have been subconsciously stirred up by the disappearance of the familiar stars that were his stock-in-trade. "What?" The astrogator sounded as though he thought Strike had lost his Strike turned to Ivy Hendricks. "Well, Captain Hendricks, this is some

<question>:
How did Gorman feel about Strike?

<options>:
A He wanted him to conduct the hyperspace experiment
B He did not like him
C He liked him for pulling his flagship out of a tight spot
D He had him mixed up with some other guy named Strykalski

<answer>:

B