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

<passage>:
ruthless invaders. He was Yandro, the he was destined to fight both sides. My senses came to me slowly and somehow shyly, as if not sure of their way or welcome. I felt first—pressure on my brow and chest, as if I And at once there was an answer: " I knew the language of that answer, but where it came from—above, beneath, or indeed within me—I could not say. I lifted a hand, and knuckled dust from my eyes. "How did I get here?" I demanded of the speaker. star called Sun. Do you remember Earth?" And I did not know whether I remembered or not. Vague matters stirred deep in me, but I could not for certain say they were memories. I asked yet again: Dondromogon might be. "Birth and beginning—destined leadership—" "Dondromogon?" I mumbled. "The name is strange to me." birth. One face of Dondromogon ever looks to the light and heat, unceasing, bitter, with no quarter asked, given or expected. ." The voice became grand. "Suffice it that you were needed, and that the time was ripe. There is a proper time, like a blocky silhouette, a building of sorts. The voice spoke no more. I had not the time to wonder about it. I got to my feet, bent double to keep from being blown over, and staggered called Dondromogon, what manner of intelligent life bade defiance to I woke up out there in the dust storm, and I managed to come here for shelter." the wall beside the door-jamb. "There's a bigger reward for capture than for warning," objected his friend in turn, "and whoever comes to take this man will claim Both stared narrowly. "No spy? No enemy?" asked the broad-faced one who had first spoken. Then, to his comrade: "No reward, then." "I think there'll be a reward," was the rejoinder, and the second man's hand stole to the sword-weapon. With a whispering rasp it cleared from its scabbard. "If he's dead, we get pay for both warning and capture—" His thumb touched a button at the pommel of the hilt. The dull blade The other had drawn a weapon of his own, a pistol-form arrangement. I turned on him, but too late. He pressed the trigger, and from the nothing. Memory left me." "The story is a strange one," she commented. "And your name?" "I do not know that, either. Who are you?" "Stranger," he said to me, "can you think of no better tale to tell than you now offer?" "I tell the truth," was my reply, not very gracious. "You will have to prove that," he admonished me. "What proof have I?" I demanded. "On this world of yours—Dondromogon, isn't it called?—I'm no more than an hour old. Accident or shock has taken my memory. Let me have a medical examination. A scientist probably can tell what happened to put me in such a condition." The officer at the table was touching a button. An attendant appeared, received an order, and vanished again. In a few moments two other men came—one a heavily armed officer of rank, the other an elderly, bearded fellow in a voluminous robe that enfolded him in most dignified and bowed toward me. "Surely you are Yandro, the Conquering Stranger," The other made a little grimace. "This may be Yandro, though I'm a souls to worship, not to study. If indeed he is Yandro," and he was "Who might Yandro be?" I demanded, very uncomfortable in my bonds and Old Sporr almost crowed. "You see? If he was a true imposter, he would come equipped with all plausible knowledge. As it is—" "As it is, he may remember that the Conquering Stranger is foretold to come with no memory of anything," supplied the officer. "Score one against you, Sporr. You should have been able to instruct me, not I you." old and well-thumbed, with dim gold traceries on its binding. Sporr snatched it, and turned to a brightly colored picture. He looked once, his beard gaped, and he dropped to his knees. "Happy, happy the day," he jabbered, "that I was spared to see our great champion come among us in the flesh, as was foretold of ancient real respect and shyness this time. "If you are Yandro himself, you can real man—" "That could be plastic surgery," rejoined the officer. "Such things are artfully done by the Newcomers, and the red mantle he wears more easily assumed." Doriza shook her head. "That happens to be my cloak. I gave it to him because he was naked, and not for any treasonable masquerade. But the thumb-print—" "Forgive me, great Yandro," said the officer thickly. "I did not know." "Get up," I bade them. "I want to hear why I was first bound, and now worshipped." II stopped. "I have arranged for that," Sporr began, then fell silent, fingers combing his beard in embarrassment. "Pardon, great Yandro," babbled Sporr. "I was saying that I arranged and tasting of spice, and a tumbler of pink juice. I felt refreshed and satisfied, and thanked Sporr, who led me on to the next room. of which Sporr spoke. The door closed softly behind me—I was left alone. of chest and shoulder, and legs robust enough to carry such bulk. The face was square but haggard, as if from some toil or pain which was now Sporr was waiting in the room where I had eaten. His eyes widened at sight of me, something like a grin of triumph flashed through his "It is indeed Yandro, our great chief," he mumbled. Then he turned and fore-teller of wisdom. Yandro is with us, he awaits his partners and "I serve Yandro," she vowed tremulously. "Now and forever—and happy that I was fated to live when he returned for the rescue of all Dondromogon." "Please get up," I bade her, trying not to sound as embarrassed as I herself at my left hand. "Will Yandro come this way? He will be awaited Yandro is wise as well as powerful. But the Newcomers do not want to "Doriza, gentlewoman of the guard, conducts Yandro, the Conquering My mind flew back to the two scrubby, venial guardsmen who had first welcomed me "Yandro, folk of the Council! He deigns to give you audience." Yandro! They all spoke the name in chorus, and bowed toward me. Silence then, a silence which evidently I must break. I broke it: "Friends, I am among you with no more memory or knowledge than an "The tenth part of the wonders which concern mighty Yandro have not He was the greedy-faced man, short but plump, and very conscious of the dignified folds of his purple robe. One carefully-tended hand brushed back his ginger-brown hair, then toyed with a little moustache. will speak simply. Our hopes have been raised by Yandro's return—the return presaged of old by those who could see the future, and more recently by the death in battle of the Newcomer champion, called Barak." "Barak!" I repeated. "I—I—" And I paused. When I had to learn my own name, how could it be that I sensed memory of another's name? "Barak was a brute—mighty, but a brute." Thus Gederr continued. even as they are without their battle-leader, so we have ours." "You honor me," I told him. "Yet I still know little. It seems that I Dondromogon. But I must know them before I can help." to her "Tell him, Elonie." Then he faced me. "Have we Yandro's

<question>:
Choose the most likely outcome if the narrator was not determined to be Yandro?

<options>:
A He would have never met Doriza.
B He would be sent back to Earth.
C He would not be honored on Dondromogon.
D His memory would have came back faster.

<answer>:

C