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

<passage>:
TOLLIVER'S ORBIT was slow—but it wasn't boring. And it would get you there—as long as "Great!" muttered Betty. "What a lucky girl I am!" After a while , he promised himself, I'll explain how I cut the fuel million miles distant. "Try not to be simple—for once!" growled Jeffers. "A little percentage here and there on the cargoes never shows by the time figures get back to Earth. The big jets in the home office don't care. They count it on the estimates." "You asked any of them lately?" Tolliver prodded. "Now, listen ! Maybe they live soft back on Earth since the mines and the Jovian satellite colonies grew but they were out here in the ," he complained. "You know I took this piloting job just to scrape up money for an advanced engineering degree back on Earth. I only want to finish my year—not get into something I can't quit." Jeffers fidgeted in his chair, causing it to creak under the bulk of whenever your contract's up. Think we'd bend a good orbit on your account?" that way, either you get in line with us or you're through right now!" "You can't fire me," retorted the pilot pityingly. "I came out here on a contract. Five hundred credits a week base pay, five hundred for hazardous duty. How else can you get pilots out to Jupiter?" "Okay I can't fire you legally—as long as you report for work," hazardous duty!" "Doesn't matter," answered Tolliver, grinning amiably. "The hazardous part is just being on the same moon as you for the next six months." He winked and walked out, deliberately leaving the door open behind him so as to enjoy the incoherent bellowing that followed him. Looks like a little vacation , he thought, unperturbed. He'll come around. I just want to get back to Earth with a clean rep. Let Jeffers and his gang steal the Great Red Spot off Jupiter if they like! It's their risk. which was "Tuesday" by the arbitrary calender constructed to match Ganymede's week-long journey around Jupiter. His contract guaranteed a pilot's rating, but someone had neglected to specify the type of craft to be piloted. of one of the airtight tractors used between the dome city and the spaceport, or for hauling cross-country to one of the mining domes. He soon found that there was nothing for him to do but hang around the garage in case a spaceship should land. The few runs to other domes seemed to be assigned to drivers with larger vehicles. The following day was just as boring, and the next more so. He swore handing out soft jobs to nephews, I mean." "Aah, these young punks just come out for a few months so they can go back to Earth making noises like spacemen. Sometimes there's no reason but them for sending a ship back with a crew instead of in an economy orbit. Wait till you see the baggage you'll have to load!" Later in the day-period, Tolliver recalled this warning. Under a portable, double-chambered plastic dome blown up outside the ship's or does he just know where bodies are buried? "They were making dates," said the girl. "Were they ribbing me, or is it true that none of the four of them goes back with the ship?" "It's true enough," Tolliver assured her. "We need people out here, and it costs a lot to make the trip. They found they could send back loaded ships by 'automatic' flight—that is, a long, slow, economical orbit and automatic signalling equipment. Then they're boarded approaching Earth's orbit and landed by pilots who don't have to waste their time making the entire trip." He followed the signals of a spacesuited member of the port staff and maneuvered out of the dome. Then he headed the tractor across the "Yeah," he went on, "right now, I don't do a thing but drive missions from the city to the spaceport." "Missions! You call driving a mile or so a mission ?" mission!" "You can call me Betty. What happened to him?" "I'll tell you some day," Tolliver promised darkly. "This moon can Mercury, something like 3200 miles in diameter, so things get heaped up at steep angles. When the rock and ice are set to sliding, they come at you practically horizontally. It doesn't need much start, and it paycheck he had received that morning. It did not, naturally, indicate he was drawing the salary of a space pilot. Betty looked thoughtful. "I'm retiring in six months if I'm still alive," he said bravely, edging the tractor into the airlock at their destination. "Made my pile. No use pushing your luck too far." told en route from the spaceport. Hardly sixty seconds later, he led her into a maze of stacked crates After a brief search, he located the spacesuits. Many, evidently He led the way out a rear door of the warehouse. With the heavy knife "Where are you going?" asked Betty. "Pretty official, as a matter of fact." "All right," Tolliver decided. "We'll try the ship you just came in on. They might have finished refueling and left her empty." He grabbed Betty by the wrist of her spacesuit and headed for the It promptly developed that she had something to learn about running on ice in such low gravity. Until they were out of direct line of sight from the settlement, Tolliver simply dragged her. Then, when he decided that it was safe enough to pause and tell her , he consoled himself. It was a long mile, even at the pace human muscles could achieve on Ganymede. They took one short rest, during which Tolliver was forced to explain away the dangers of slides and volcanic puffballs. He admitted to having exaggerated slightly. In the end, they reached the spaceship. There seemed to be no one about. The landing dome had been collapsed and stored, and the ship's airlock port was closed. inside, but he managed. They passed through the airlock, fretting at the time required to seal, pump air and open the inner hatch and then In the control room, he shoved the girl into an acceleration seat, "Takeoff!" shrilled Betty. "What do you think you're going to do? I He ran a practiced eye over the board, reading the condition of the ship. It pleased him. Everything was ready for a takeoff into an economy orbit for Earth. He busied himself making a few adjustments, doing his best to ignore the protests from his partner in crime. He warned her the trip might be long. the right direction?" making contact. It took only a few minutes, as if the channel had been monitored "Space Patrol?" whispered Tolliver incredulously. request as if he had been hanging in orbit merely until learning who to go down after. "We do have one trouble," he heard Betty saying. "This tractor driver, Tolliver, saved my neck by making the ship take off somehow, but he says it's set for a six-month orbit, or economy flight. Whatever they call it. I don't think he has any idea where we're headed." Tolliver pulled her back, holding her in mid-air by the slack of her firm. If old Koslow had a son to impersonate—" "I'd be stuck for six months in this orbit with some brash young man," Tolliver finished for her. "I guess it's better this way," he said meditatively a moment later. "Oh, come on ! Can't they get us back? How can you tell where we're going?" "I know enough to check takeoff time. It was practically due anyhow, so we'll float into the vicinity of Earth at about the right time to be picked up." He went on to explain something of the tremendous cost in fuel necessary to make more than minor corrections to their course. Even along enough fuel to head back would be something else again. "We'll just have to ride it out," he said sympathetically. "The ship is the case in about three hours on Ganymede."

<question>:
Where was the space craft heading in the end?

<options>:
A In orbit around Ganymede
B To the Space Patrol ship
C To Koslow Spaceways headquarters
D A 6-month journey back to Earth

<answer>:

A