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

<passage>:
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that He frowned at the rap sheet, trying to figure out what got a girl like He was partly right. He would be right in the middle of it—for every No mixing. That was the prescription that kept the city-state alive. There's no harm in and once they spread, the neat compartmentation of society was pierced. The breakout would mean riot on a bigger scale than any prison had ever known. But he was also partly wrong. Because the breakout wasn't seeming to attractive and young—not beyond hope, surely. Maybe she had got off disciplinary block help straighten her out? He rubbed his ear and him to judge their cases. block guard had to break up a fight between her and another wench, and she claimed the same business—said she didn't understand when the don't care. I don't care!" had managed, by strength of will, not to hear that she had omitted clearly the next step for her. What's she in for?" violate the Categoried Class laws. Don't waste your time with her, Cap'n. She's a figger-lover!" anything, she had had a better environment than O'Leary himself, and look what she had made of it. The direction of evolution is toward specialization and Man is no exception, but with the difference that his is the one species that creates its own environment in which to specialize. From the moment to the point of smaller contact and less communication between the most basic physical necessities—and not even always then. But this was desirable, for the more specialists, the higher the degree of civilization. The ultimate should be the complete segregation of each specialization—social and genetic measures to make them breed true, because the unspecialized man is an uncivilized man, or at any rate he does not advance civilization. And letting the specializations mix would produce genetic undesirables: clerk-laborer or Professional-GI misfits, for example, being only half specialized, would be good at no specialization. And the basis of this specialization society was: "The aptitude groups are the true races of mankind." Putting it into law was only the legal enforcement of a demonstrable fact. "Evening, Cap'n." A bleary old inmate orderly stood up straight and O'Leary noted, with the part of his mind that always noted those There wasn't anything wrong with that job, he told himself. It was a perfectly good civil-service position—better than post-office clerk, right that he should be proud of it. He was civil-service born and bred, and naturally he was proud and content to do a good, clean civil-service job. If he had happened to be born a fig—a a mechanic or a soldier, or even a laborer, for that matter. loaf, work and loaf. Of course, he wouldn't really want that kind of life, because he was Civil Service and not the kind to try to cross over class barriers that weren't meant to be— " elsewhere it was called "the hole," "the snake pit," "the Klondike." When you're in it, you don't much care what it is called it is a place for punishment. And punishment is what you get. guard. The outside guard looked impassively back—after all, he was on the outside. The inside guard muttered: "Wipe rats! They're getting on my nerves." The outside guard shrugged. "Detail, The outside guard said sourly: "A woman, for God's sake. Now O'Leary knows I hate it when there's a woman in here. It gets the others all riled up." could ignore the prisoners—they simply could not move fast enough, against the electronic drag of the field, to do any harm. But it was a passed them by and she was fighting off an almost uncontrollable urge to retch. "We got a lady with us! Maybe we ought to cut out this yelling so as not to disturb the lady!" He screeched with howling, maniacal laughter. "Anyway, if we don't cut this out, they'll get us in trouble, Flock!" don't quit this lousy job. Hey, you! Pipe down or I'll come in and beat your head off!" human , she told herself miserably, trying to weep silently so as not to give the guards the satisfaction of hearing her—they were animals! Resentment and anger, she could understand. She told herself doggedly that resentment and anger were natural and right. They were perfectly normal expressions of the freedom-loving citizen's rebellion against the vile and stifling system of Categoried Classes. It was good that system— But did they have to scream so? The senseless yelling was driving her crazy. She abandoned herself to "Trouble? What trouble?" did you want to worry me for? There's nothing wrong with playing ball in the yard. That's what recreation periods are for." "You don't see what I mean, Warden. Lafon was a professional on the don't mix it isn't natural. And there are other things." O'Leary hesitated, frowning. How could you explain to the warden that it didn't just as important as my job," he said piously. " Everybody's job is just as important as everybody else's, right? But we have to stick to our own jobs. We don't want to try to that for the warden to talk to him? after all, 'Specialization is the goal of civilization,' right?" He was don't want to worry about end of running the prison. And want to worry about trouble coming up. I smell the signs." "But suppose it's too big to handle. Suppose—" "Well, then," he said at last. "You just remember what I've told you what ? You're going to WHAT?" thought that maybe, after all, the man was really in pain. Maybe the happen was that the guard reached up and closed the switch that actuated the tangler fields on the floors of the cells. The prison rules were humanitarian, even for the dregs that inhabited the Greensleeves. Ten minutes out of every two hours, even the worst case lovely term for it. Score one more painful lesson in her new language course. She rubbed rubber the faster you tried to move, the greater the resistance. grateful. At least she didn't have to live quite like a fig—like an here, he told himself—not for the first time. And imagine, some people realized cloudily, it was a rather unusual smell. Something burning. Almost like meat scorching. vain about it, even at times he had been known to boast of his ability Every time but this. was something that glinted and smoked. it had been made out of a bed-spring, ripped loose from its frame God had been hidden during other rest periods, felt like raw acid. "All right," whispered Flock, "just walk out the door and you won't get hurt. Unless the other screw makes trouble, you won't get hurt, so tell him not to, you hear?" himself real bad and he needs a doctor." He gestured playfully at the every limb and class. In its ten million homes, in its hundreds of impact of the news from the prison. For the news touched them where their fears lay. Riot! And not merely a street brawl among roistering wipes, or a bar-room fight of greasers relaxing from a hard day at the plant. The riot was down among the corrupt sludge that underlay the state itself. Wipes brawled with wipes and no one cared but in the Jug, all classes were cast together. They caught the words from a distance—not quite correctly. "Riot!" querulously awake in her nursery at home. "What in God's name is the use of a club? You can't hurt a wipe by hitting him on the head. You'd they were to fly interdicting missions at such-and-such were the ones who might actually accomplish something. They took up

<question>:
What might the story be trying to point out?

<options>:
A A society of specialized people would be incredibly difficult to manage, and ultimately inefficient.
B A society of specialized people would be incredibly difficult to manage, but worth it for the work that would get done.
C People will always try to rebel against the system, no matter what form it's in.
D It goes against human nature to try to segregate people, no matter how it's done.

<answer>:

D