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

<passage>:
relentlessly toward him. He awoke still screaming.... A night without darkness passed. Ben lay waiting for Maggie's return, a question already formed in his mind. She came and at once he asked, "Who is the man with the red beard?" Ben Curtis eased his pale, gaunt body through the open doorway of the Blast Inn, the dead man following silently behind him. His fear-borne gaze traveled into the dimly illumined Venusian gin Most of the big room lay obscured behind a shimmering veil of tobacco smoke and the sweet, heavy fumes of Martian Devil's Egg. Here and there, Ben saw moving figures. He could not tell if they were Earthmen, Martians or Venusians. Someone tugged at his greasy coat. He jumped, thinking absurdly that it . I have Martian to Hoover City—except dead. The others are physical or psycho rejects who couldn't get clearance if they went back to Earth. They know "Don't the authorities object?" ?" Ben shook his head. He thought, "Not very strongly. The I. B. I. has too many problems right here to search the whole System for a few two-bit crooks. Besides, we carry it, that's our business." She pursed her lips. "But if they guessed how strong we are or that we have friends planted in the I. B. I.—well, things might be different. There probably would be a crackdown." Ben scowled. "What happens if there is a crackdown? And what will you Martian friend. Maybe you like House of Dreams. For House of Dreams—" ." The boy grabbed his hand. Because Ben could think of no reason for resisting, he followed. They plunged into shifting layers of smoke and can't follow the text-book rules of astrogation out there. You make up your own." Ben stiffened. "And that's why you want me for an astrogator." through the drone of alcohol-cracked voices. Maggie rose, her eyes wistful. "If you want to come—and if you get well." She looked at him strangely. Several times, Ben glimpsed the bulky figures of CO 2 -breathing They were smoky gray, scaly, naked giants, toads in human shape. They stood solitary and motionless, aloof, their green-lidded eyes unblinking. They certainly didn't look like telepaths, as Ben had heard they were, but the thought sent a fresh rivulet of fear down his spine. Once he spied a white-uniformed officer of Hoover City's Security against the stone booths. Keep walking , Ben told himself. You look the same as anyone else here. Keep walking. Look straight ahead. The officer passed. Ben breathed easier. ," piped the Martian boy. "A Close in the shadows." Ben winced. How did this kid know he wanted to sit in the shadows? Frowning, he sat down—he and the dead man. The Martians were fragile, doll-like creatures with heads too large for For an instant, Ben's mind rose above the haunting vision of the dead man. He thought, What are they doing here, these Martians? Here, in faces of the Inn's other occupants. You've got to find him , he thought. His body was buried now—probably in the silent gray wastes outside Luna City. But he'd become a kind of invisible Siamese twin, as much a part of Ben as sight in his eyes. Sometimes the image would be shuffling drunkenly beside him, its lips spitting whiskey-slurred curses. Again, its face would be a pop-eyed mask of surprise as Ben's fist thudded into its jaw. More often, the face would be frozen in the Ben smiled. "If it weren't for spacemen, you wouldn't be here." Ben stiffened. He was twenty-four and dressed in the white, crimson-braided uniform of the , Ben thought. He took his drink and moved three stools down the bar. Cobb followed. "You don't like the truth, eh, kid? You don't like people to call you a sucker." Ben rose and started to leave the bar, but Cobb grabbed his arm and be dyin' of radiation rot or a meteor'll get you. Wait and see, sucker!" Until this instant, Ben had suppressed his anger. Now, suddenly and He sank to the floor, eyes glassy, blood tricking down his jaw. Ben knew that he was dead. Then, for a single absurd second, Ben was seized with terror—just as, a moment before, he'd been overwhelmed with anger. fantastic conjecture in the men's audiozines—was rumored to be a " The Martian kid grinned, his mouth full of purple teeth. "I ?" "This isn't my first night here," Ben lied. "I've been around a while." You know why city is called Hoover City?" Ben didn't answer. "They say it is because after women come, they want first thing a Ben raised his hand as if to strike the boy. " But his picture must have been 'scoped to Venusian visiscreens. A reward must have been offered for his capture. Whom could he trust? The Martian kid, perhaps? Far down the darkened aisle nearest him, his eyes caught a flash of You idiot! The damned Martian kid! You should have known! undisturbed. They stood unmoving, their staring eyes shifting lazily in Ben's direction. "Curtis!" one of the policemen yelled. "You're covered! Hold it!" Ben whirled away from the advancing police, made for the exit into which the musicians had disappeared. A hissing sound traveled past his left ear, a sound like compressed air door closed behind him. The glare of the flashlight faded from his vision—if he still had vision. "You're sure?" the voice persisted. "I'm sure," Ben managed to say. "I have no antidote. You may die." His mind fought to comprehend. With the anti-paralysis injection, "Anti ... anti ..." The words were as heavy as blobs of mercury forced from his throat. "No ... I'm sure ... sure." He didn't hear the answer or anything else. Ben Curtis had no precise sensation of awakening. Return to a deep, staccato grunting. But he heard someone say, "Don't try to talk." It was the same gentle voice he'd heard in the Blast Inn. "Don't talk. Just lie still and "It would be a long story. Perhaps I'll tell you tomorrow." A new thought, cloaked in sudden fear, entered his murky consciousness. "Tell me, will—will I be well again? Will I be able to walk?" "No." He looked at her, wondering. "You won't tell me?" "Not yet. Later, perhaps." Her eyes twinkled mischievously. "Because you're a good astrogator." His own eyes widened. "How did you know that?" Fascinated, Ben nodded. He gaped incredulously, struggling to rise from his pillows. "I—don't get it." "There are ways of finding out what we want to know. As I told you, we have many friends." ! Ben stared at the photo for a long time. At length, he slipped into restless sleep. Images of faces and echoes of words spun through his brain. accused him. Somewhere were two lost children crying in the night. And towering above him was a red-bearded man whose great hands reached down and beckoned to him. Ben crawled through the night on hands and knees, his legs numb and useless. The crying of the children was a chilling wail in his ears.

<question>:
Why is the rumor that Martians can read minds especially scary to Ben?

<options>:
A If they can, they definitely know he's guilty of what he's done.
B It would mean that Martians are fully aware of what Earth people are thinking, and manipulating them.
C If they can, he's uncomfortable with the notion that they can read his thoughts.
D Not being able to confirm if it's true or not makes Ben wary of interacting with any of them.

<answer>:

A