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

<passage>:
makes the news public? You know what would happen if this thing should leak!" intercom began feeding out a long sheet of paper the new answer from the Brain. It reached a certain length, then was automatically sheared overrode his erstwhile genial features. I had a horrible suspicion. "Not again?" I said softly. greatest mystery, Jery assumed that it was because of his mental agility. But when he got to Mars to find out why fifteen boys had vanished from Grade, when he realized all at once that "someone wrote all those stories in the textbooks." While everyone else looked forward variously Oddly enough, it worked out, and he now does nothing else. He says, "I'd like to say I do this for fulfillment, or for cash, or because it's my destiny however, the real reason (same as that expressed by Jean Kerr) is that this kind of stay-at-home self-employment lets me sleep late in the morning." 1 deadline memos. to retrace quite a bit of my lifetime up till that moment, seeking vainly for some reason why they'd be standing there, so terribly and "... Yes," I said, some terrified portion of my mind waiting masochistically for them to draw their collapsers and reduce me to a heap of hot protons. always reacts to an obvious cliche. Then, with something like a look of relief on his blunt face, he "I'd rather not discuss that, sir, if you don't mind." "Do you mind if I do mind?" "Oh ... Oh, well if you put it like that. It's girls, sir. They block my mind. Ruin my work." "I don't get you." think of looking at twice, except for business reasons, of course, has to stay out of my office when I'm working, or I can't function." "You have my sympathy, son," Baxter said, not unkindly. maternity, but I was able to ask, "Me? For Pete's sake, why, sir?" "When the current emergency arose and all our usual methods failed, we had to submit the problem to the Brain." "And," I said, beginning to be fascinated by his bewildered manner, "what came out?" to make. IC had none to make. Damn it all to hell!" He brought a meaty fist down on the desktop. "No one has an explanation! All we know is that the Brain always picks the right man." highhanded treatment of my emotions. "How nice!" I said icily. "Now if I only knew the problem!" Baxter blinked, then lost some of his scowl. "Yes, of course "What a gesture!" Baxter went on, hardly speaking directly to me at all. "Inter-nation harmony! Good will! If these mere boys can get together and travel the voids of space, then so can everyone else! Why should there be tensions between the various nations comprising the World Government, when there's none between these fine lads, one from every civilized nation on Earth?" "You sound disillusioned, sir," I interjected. Where was I?" "You were telling about how this gesture, the WG sending these kids off for an extraterrestrial romp, will cement relations between those nations who have remained hostile despite the unification of all governments on Earth. Personally, I think it was a pretty good idea, myself. Everybody likes kids. Take this jam we were trying to push. Pomegranate Nectar, it was called. Well, sir, it just wouldn't sell, and then we got this red-headed kid with freckles like confetti all I thought a second, then nodded. "They've been having such a good time that the government extended their trip by—Why are you shaking your head that way, sir?" "Because it's not true, Delvin," he said. His voice was suddenly old and tired, and very much in keeping with his snowy hair. "You see, the I came up in the chair, ramrod-straight. "Their mothers—they've been getting letters and—" "Forgeries, Fakes. Counterfeits." "You mean whoever took the Scouts is falsifying—" "No. My men are doing the work. Handpicked crews, day and night, have been sending those letters to the trusting mothers. It's been ghastly, Delvin. Hard on the men, terribly hard. Undotted i 's, misuse of tenses, deliberate misspellings. They take it out of an adult, especially an adult with a mind keen enough to get him into Interplanetary Security. We've limited the shifts to four hours per man per day. Otherwise, they'd all be gibbering by now!" "And your men haven't found out anything?" I marvelled. form of an electronic brain, and even works on the same principle—can tell you that two and two make four. But can it tell you why? "Well, no, but—" "That, in a nutshell is our problem. We coded and fed to the Brain every shred of information at our disposal the ages of the children, for instance, and all their physical attributes, and where they were last seen, and what they were wearing. Hell, everything! The machine disconcerting thought. "Yes," said Baxter. "That's what bothers me." And well they might be. An Amnesty-bearer can suddenly decide a subject is not answering questions to his satisfaction and simply blast the annoying party to atoms. It makes for straight responses. Of course, Phobos II when the incident fifteen fair-sized young boys through its impervious hull without leaving a trace. "Chow time, sir. That's when you expect to have the little—to have the kids in your hair, sir. Everyone wants his rations first—You know drinking. Otherwise, we'd all dehydrate, with no water to replace the water we lost." because, in the affair of the missing Space Scouts, my malevolent with the pilot. And I'm ordinarily on the shy side, as a matter of fact." "It's the Amnesty that does it," he said, gesturing toward the disc. It automatically act the part. A shame, in a way." "The hell it is!" Baxter snapped. "Good grief, man, why'd you think the Amnesty was created in the first place?" I sat up straight and scratched the back of my head. "Now you mention it, I really don't know. It seems a pretty dangerous thing to have about, the way people jump when they see it." "It is dangerous, of course, but it's vitally necessary. You're young, Jery Delvin, and even the finest history course available these days is slanted in favor of World Government. So you have no idea how tough believe...." He waved me silent. "No connection at all, son. No, red tape was, well, involvement. Forms to be signed, certain factors to be considered, classifications, bureaus, sub-bureaus, congressional committees. It was impossible, Jery, my boy, to get anything done whatsoever without consulting someone else. And the time lag and paperwork involved made accurate and swift action impossible, sometimes. What we needed, of would have put us right back where we'd been before. No, we left it up to the Brain. We'd find ourselves in a tight situation, and the Brain after being fed the data, would come up with either a solution, or a name." I had a sudden thought. "Say, what happens if two men are selected by the Brain? Who has authority over whom?" Baxter grimaced and shivered. "Don't even think such a thing! Even your mentioning such a contingency gives me a small migraine. It'd be unprecedented in the history of the Brain or the Amnesty." He grinned, suddenly. "Besides, it can't happen. There's only one of these—" he

<question>:
Why is it unexpectedly hard for the men to forge letters for the children?

<options>:
A There is a huge amount of letters to write and families to keep up with. It's a lot of information
B They have to intentionally write poorly, which is proving to be difficult with the volume they have to write
C None of them are particularly good at writing letters, making it difficult for them
D It makes them too emotional, because it involves children.

<answer>:

B