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

<passage>:
that murderous little beast out of here! Or isn't murder against the "—one hundred thousand dollars. I know." I groaned and turned to of this mess with our skins intact." "Right, Chief." Stebbins moved toward the visiphone. Gorb stepped forward and put a hand on his chest. "Hold it," the Wazzenazzian said crisply. "The Consulate can't help you. I can." "I can get you out of this cheap." and smell them with ease. How cheap?" Gorb grinned rakishly. "Five thousand in cash plus a contract as a specimen with your outfit. In advance, of course. That's a heck of a lot better than forking over a hundred grand, isn't it?" I eyed Gorb uncertainly. The Terran Consulate people probably wouldn't be much help they tried to keep out of local squabbles unless they beings, but there's barely a species anywhere that can resist the old exhibitionist urge. "Send them in one at a time," I told Stebbins. I ducked into the a contingency basis. Get me out of this and you'll have five grand and the contract. Otherwise, nothing." Gorb shrugged. "What have I to lose?" The office buzzer sounded. Auchinleck said unctuously, "The first "Send him, her or it in." "Your name?" I throttled my exclamation of surprise, concealing it behind a quick cough. "Let me have that again, please?" "Of course, that's not the name you were born with." "You understand our terms, Mr. Fitzgerald?" My three staff men, Auchinleck, Stebbins and Ludlow, walked shieldwise "There's been a mistake. We're interested in non-terrestrials only." "I'm a non-terrestrial. My name is Ildwar Gorb, of the planet Wazzenazz XIII." I don't mind conning the public from time to time, but I draw the line "I'm not speaking. I'm a telepath—not the kind that reads minds, just the kind that projects. I communicate in symbols that you translate back to colloquial speech." "Very clever, Mr. Gorb." I grinned at him and shook my head. "You spin a good yarn—but for my money, you're really Sam Jones or Phil Smith from Earth, stranded here and out of cash. You want a free trip back to Earth. No deal. The demand for beings from Wazzenazz XIII is pretty low these days. Zero, in fact. Good-by, Mr. Gorb." He pointed a finger squarely at me and said, "You're making a big mistake. I'm just what your outfit needs. A representative of a hitherto utterly unknown race identical to humanity in every respect! Look here, examine my teeth. Absolutely like human teeth! And—" I pulled away from his yawning mouth. "Good-by, Mr. Gorb," I repeated. "All I ask is a contract, Corrigan. It isn't much. I'll be a big attraction. I'll—" " Good-by, Mr. Gorb! " He glowered at me reproachfully for a moment, stood up and sauntered to the door. "I thought you were a man of acumen, Corrigan. Well, think He slammed the door and I let my grim expression relax into a smile. The first harbinger of woe turned up after lunch in the person of a immediately to a contract." "Sit down, Freeman Heraal. I like to make my own decisions, thanks." "You will grant me a contract!" sometimes useful in dealing with belligerent or disappointed I said, "You'll have to understand, Freeman Heraal, that it's not our because—" "You will hire me or trouble I will make!" in a spume of tanglemesh the instant he went for his blaster, but he insulted your clan, Freeman Heraal. Will you accept my apologies?" I went on, "Please be assured that I'll undo the insult at the earliest "No. You will hire me now." it." away. He wasn't minded to quarrel physically, or he could have knocked but he kept up a growling flow of invective and threats until he was "Come here, you!" "I'm sorry, Mr. Corrigan. I lost sight of this one for a moment, and he came running in—" The little being immediately emitted a soul-shaking gasp. "It is she! must take me to Earth!" "But—" "Well—" "Of course not." I took advantage of his pathetic upset to steam right "I thought the truth would move you." "Then you will refuse me?" his tears. He turned and shambled slowly to the door, walking like a He spoke in a drab monotone that almost, but not quite, had me weeping. uneasy feeling I had just been talking to a being who was about to or another, and they took the bad news quietly enough. The haul for the I had just about begun to forget about the incidents of the Kallerian's outraged pride and the Stortulian's flighty wife when the door opened and the Earthman who called himself Ildwar Gorb of Wazzenazz XIII stepped in. "How did "Change your mind about me yet?" "Get out before I have you thrown out." Gorb shrugged. "I figured you hadn't changed your mind, so I've changed my pitch a bit. If you won't believe I'm from Wazzenazz XIII, suppose I tell you that I what your story is! Get out or—" "—you'll have me thrown out. Okay, okay. Just give me half a second. "You see? He's incompetent. Suppose you fire him, take me on instead. I've been living in the outworlds half my life I know all there is to know about alien life-forms. You can use me, Corrigan." I took a deep breath and glanced all around the paneled ceiling of the office before I spoke. "Listen, Gorb, or whatever your name is, I've had a hard day. There's been a Kallerian in here who just about threatened murder, and there's been a Stortulian in here who's about The office door crashed open at that point and Heraal, the Kallerian, dragging helplessly along in his wake, hanging desperately to his belt. Heraal, who had planted himself in front of my desk, drowned him out with a roar. "Earthman, you have mortally insulted the Clan Gursdrinn!" Heraal boomed, "You are responsible for what is to happen now. I have trigger, Heraal swung that huge sword through the air and plunged it savagely through his body. He toppled forward onto the carpet with the "Well, no, but—" Closing my eyes wearily, I tried to wish the whole babbling lot of them come bursting in here to kill himself too. Was it a fine of $100,000 I was spared further such morbid thoughts by yet another unannounced going down the drain. "Stop him, somebody! He's going to kill himself! He's—" Then somebody sprinted toward me, hit me amidships, and knocked me flying out from behind my desk before I had a chance to fire the man who called himself Ildwar Gorb was getting to his feet and dusting himself off. I weaved dizzily toward my desk and dropped into my chair. A flying abhorrent to them. When they're troubled, they kill the person who caused their trouble. In this case, you." I began to chuckle—more of a tension-relieving snicker than a full-bodied laugh. "Funny," I said. "What is?" asked the self-styled Wazzenazzian. himself pathetic damn near blew my head off." I shuddered. "Thanks for the tackle job." "Don't mention it," Gorb said. I glared at the Ghrynian police. "Well? What are you waiting for? Take

<question>:
What hit the narrator?

<options>:
A the Stortulian's gun
B the wall
C a Ghrynian policeman
D Gorb

<answer>:

D