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

<passage>:
to their character—if such utterly alien creatures could be said to have character. tight-fitting tubular gown. "If I could do anything about it...." "But you can't," he told her. "They're too clever." "Is this crop rotation or did you send for me?" she asked cynically. "If you did, I wish you hadn't. You haven't asked about your son." "I don't even want to think about him," said Tennant. "Let's get on with it." He could sense the restless stirring of the woman within Dana, just as he could feel the stirring toward her within himself—desire that both of them loathed because it was implanted within them by their captors. They walked toward the house. might have been cellophane but wasn't, and it sprouted from a fabric that might have been canvas but was something else. The trees looked They entered the house, which had no roof, continued to move beneath a wasn't. It was a prison, a cage. "Okay, I guess," she said. "The way they manage it, there's nothing a female foreman in a garment-cutting shop before being captured and the three female captives, barely nineteen. But with the eyes of the thinking of what they wanted to eat but would not enjoy when it came. Tennant finished with his order, then got busy with his surprise. Tennant watched the girls as a sweet-voiced crooner began to ply an unfamiliar love lyric to a melody whose similarity to a thousand predecessors doomed it to instant success. it—are they—real?" "As real as you or I," he told her. "It took quite a bit of doing, getting them to put a set together. And I wasn't sure that radio would get through. TV doesn't seem to. Somehow it brings things closer...." foods, with their cigarettes, with everything in their prison—or their cage. Their captors were utterly without a human conception of smell, living, apparently, in a world without odor at all. "Thanks, Eudalia," said Tennant. "I think I can defend myself. But she's right, Dana. We're as helpless as—laboratory animals. They have the means to make us do whatever they want." changing ." He shook his head. "No, Dana, you're not changing. You're adapting. We all are. We seem to be in a universe of different properties as well as different dimensions. We're adjusting. I can do a thing or two myself that seem absolutely impossible." "Why haven't they brought more of us through?" Eudalia asked, tamping out ashes in a tray that might have been silver. "I'm not sure," he said thoughtfully. "I think it's hard for them. They have a hell of a time bringing anyone through alive, and lately they haven't brought anyone through—not alive." "Why do they do it—the other way, I mean?" asked Dana. Tennant shrugged. "I don't know. I've been thinking about it. I suppose it's because they're pretty human." " Human! don't come back. They kill those of us who put up a fight. Those who don't—or can't—they bring back with them. Live or dead, we're just laboratory specimens." "Maybe," Eudalia conceded doubtfully. Then her eyes blazed. "But the things they do—stuffing people, mounting their heads, keeping them on display in their—their whatever they live in. You call that human, Rog?" quietly. "Or in a Museum of Natural History? A zoo? A naturalist's lab? matched his, and a narrow halter. "You thought those up while we ate," he said. It annoyed him to be copied, though he did not know why. She laughed at him silently, tossed her auburn hair back from her face and went out of the roofless house, angrier way. The infants, protected by cellophane-like coverlets, were asleep. "They never cry," the thin woman told him. "But they grow—God, how they grow!" captors had seen to that hall but because that was its function. It didn't actually look like anything save some half-nourished dream a surrealist might have discarded as too nightmarish for belief. As in all of this strange universe, excepting the dome-cages in which the captives were held, the training hall followed no rules of knew this even though no reason The captor Tennant called Opal. Communication was telepathic. Tennant could have yodeled or yelled or sung He went through the entire routine at Opal's bidding. When at last he was allowed to relax, he wondered, not for the first time, if he probing investigation. Opal, like the rest of the captors, was as curious as a cat—or a human being. Tennant sat against a wall, drenched with sweat. There would be endless repetition before his workout was done. On Earth, dogs were said to be intellectually two-dimensional creatures. He wondered if they felt this helpless futility when their masters taught them to heel, to point, to retrieve. Or perhaps that was his intent Tennant could never be sure. They were There was the blurring wrench of forced teleportation and they were in sort of ultradimensional television set, but to Tennant it was as incomprehensible as an oil painting to an animal. Opal was annoyed that Tennant could make nothing of it. Then came the What cover must your body have not to be conspicuous? everything but the date and season. Opal, like the rest of the captors, smell . He thought down where Opal could not detect it. He took another deep, lung-filling drag on his cigarette, looked around the room that was so important a part of his life. The three women back leave them there, then knew that he would try somehow to get them out. the only way his captors would get him back would be as a taxidermist's specimen. He realized, shocked and scared, that his thoughts of escape had his thoughts. Because he felt sure of his captive ... or because he couldn't on Earth? The thought message from Opal crumbled his illusion of freedom. He sank down in a chair, trying to refuse to listen to the rest of the command: Opal had been too interested in the next lab specimen to bother about his thoughts—that was why he had been free to think of escape. power over him. He was not free of them. He understood all too well what they wanted him to do . He'd had one too many and only wanted a little fun. Really, darling, you seem to think that a girl...." he should have expected a triangle, but somehow he hadn't. And here it was, with all of them going through their paces like a trio of tent-show actors. He said, "For God's sake, sit down." captors had let him. skinned those bodies and removed the heads." brought the four of them through, not since they had begun to train him "Rog," she said and her voice trembled, "what are we going to do? What do you want to do?" It would serve her right, but maybe there was another way. "I don't know about you," he said, "but I suspect we're in the same boat. I also have other interests." " What lift? I have a conveyance of sorts a couple of miles down the road." He needed no telepathic powers to read the thoughts around him then. He lover to do something, anything easier and pleasanter than he had expected. They deserved some of the Tennant knew now why he was the only male human the captors had been Otherwise, apparently, men were next to impossible for them to capture. All they could do was kill them and bring back their heads and hides as trophies. With women it was different—perhaps the captors' weapons, whatever they were, worked more efficiently on females. A difference in body chemistry or psychology, perhaps. More than once, during his long training with Opal, Tennant had sent questing thoughts toward his captor, asking why they didn't simply set up the gateway in some town or city and take as many humans as they wanted.

<question>:
What can the captives do?

<options>:
A control their ability to have children
B escape back to their homes when they desire
C fight the alien commands
D create things they think about

<answer>:

D