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

<passage>:
a day accepted by the young, cherished by we old. Across the gently undulating hills stood the magnificent Melopolis, encradling the Oracle of Delni. I do not, of course, believe in the gods per se still there is a grandeur in the very stones that transcends their human sculptors, and it is no wonder to me that many cling tenaciously, and ignorantly, to the old religion. returned, and settled down to live. Saddened, but resigned and content to live in peace with his knowledge and his power. Gone now are all the ancient evils, wars, emergencies. seldom seen today. Indeed, Melia was on this account made the butt of many jokes and, I fear, would have had a lonely life of it had it not "Sias," they were saying, "the Maternite's gone." I stared in amazement. "Gone? It cannot be gone. It has always been—" the Elder?" Then turned to me, and said calmly, "The watcher at the Maternite Machine, it appears, has been drunk. The heat rose above the warning, continued to rise, and then—poof. Everything has evaporated in Maternite. All the Prelife is gone." emergency, it is wise to speak with caution. That is, I suppose so. I have never before been in a real emergency. A man my age does not hurry in the heat of the midday sun—maddugs nenglishmin go out in the midday sun, as the ancients say, although I that they stood in the midst of an unprecedented happening indeed, an emergency. For a machine had failed! Not in the memory of the eldest among us has a machine failed. They were created so long ago, indeed, that the ignorant believe them to have been constructed by the gods themselves. And never, so far as I know, has one failed. Small wonder that the watcher had been negligent. Indeed, the watcher is more a tradition than a necessity. Besides, had he been sober, he would not have known what to do. For who knows the mysterious workings of the machines? those left were the most earnest and intelligent. "I would not bore you," he said, "with details of which only the gods are sure. Know, then, that once granted a few cells of Prelife, it is an easy matter for the Maternite Machine to add more and more thus assuring us, as has always been, a continuous source of Prelife to be around the Hall. "But now," he continued, however, with less assurance and indeed with even a stutter here and there, "an unprecedented situation has arisen. Indeed, I might call it an emergency. For the M-Maternite Machine has actually failed." Cries of "Treason" sprang up, and I fear it might have gone hard for "That is not the worst," he cried, as if in defiance. "All the Prelife has been dried up. It will not function. There is no more. And there will be no more children!" At this I feared the Conclave was about to riot. It is at such times think. Rocsates leaned forward and asked, "Must there not—must there not have been a beginning to Prelife? For the Machine, it seems, cannot make it and yet it came from somewhere." "Riddles are not called for," I answered severely. "Are not riddles often the beginning of knowledge?" he asked, in that irritating dumber-than-thou attitude of his. "Must there not, long ago, have been a source of Prelife: a source now forgotten? And may it not even now—should we discover it—be available to us? I am reminded of the story of the animals of old—" "I fear your mind is wandering, Rocsates," I was forced to interrupt. "I know well the legend of the animals, but what does it have to do—" The heads of the Conclave were turning to me, quizzically. I hastened to explain the legend of the animals. "It is said that many thousands of years ago, time without reckoning, there existed on the earth creatures who were alive like us, and yet not like us. It is said indeed exist. It is recorded most scientifically in the films." "If it be so," I said, quieting the hub-bub that followed, "and I would not doubt your word, Rocsates, for all know you are the wisest of men—if it were so, then, what of it?" "May it not be," Rocsates put in, "that these animals had no machines to such creatures. And indeed, if they had Maternite Machines, why then we would yet have these animals among us." "And how, then, did these animals reproduce?" I asked. "How, indeed? And is there not a legend—admitted only a legend—that says there was a time before the machines, and before the Maternite Machine, and that at such a time both the animals and Men reproduced from within their own bodies?" attentively to Rocsates, who, amid cries of "Heresy" and "Treason", went on: "I should like to ask the Conclave for permission to search the ancient records, in the hope of finding some such knowledge that would prove or Gods, this Rocsates! The books, as well he knows, are so ancient, and so delicate, that they are kept in an air-tight tomb lest, being handled, they be destroyed and all knowledge within them lost. Therefore, they have not been read in the known history of our race. And Rocsates has been anxious for an excuse— "Sias," he went on, "if there exists such knowledge as I seek, is it not indeed lost to the memory of Man? And if so, are not the books the only place where it may be found?" your excretory system is not so mechanically dextrous as ours. And, you reason?" "Rocsates," I interrupted. "All this is fascinating, of course. But if you could be quick—" then nonexistent machines. The She's are not wanderers from another land, but they have lived with us for all time they are not another seems to have been so simple that there was once a problem of over-population." Order was lost among the Conclave as each man turned to speak to his neighbor, and for some time I could not restore order. I realized that reproduction must have been a pleasant thing to do otherwise they would not have done so to excess. And if it was a pleasant thing to do, where is the necessity for the machines, and why were they created?" they cannot do until they meet again. I needed a sufficient excuse to call a meeting of the Conclave, The Conclave had come to order and formalities had been initiated when Rocsates entered and took his place. He clutched under one shoulder a thin, rectangular object, but that is not what impressed me. His appearance—he looked as if he had not slept of late, nor eaten either. had carried in. "It is a book. It is entitled, 'Living a Normal Sex Life.' It seems to be some sort of a do-it-yourself pamphlet." He attention. He went on, speaking low. "The word 'Sex' is not defined, suppose," he said. "You see, once upon a time there were birds and bees...." When he finished the Conclave sat in horrified silence. His words, no use throughout all these generations, will they not have evolved into nothingness?" "I do not think so," Rocsates replied after a while. "What to us is an eon, to evolution is but an instant. And then the swelling of the breasts, I believe, proves that there is still reproductive activity in some, at least, of the She's." friend, he thought even now of the comfort of Melia. The marble table was indeed hard, and from Rocsates' description it seemed that Melia's "They may indeed have succeeded," Rocsates replied. "There is mentioned a time lapse which is necessary. The child does not appear immediately." "It doesn't matter," I said disconsolately. "Who could ask them to go through such an ordeal again?"

<question>:
How is the book "Living a Normal Sex Life" seen by these people?

<options>:
A It is frightening in an exciting way, for the people to learn something new
B They respect its truths but are nervous about its implications
C It is an important historical text appreciated from a research perspective
D It is a rare artefact of a less-understood time

<answer>:

B