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

<passage>:
Washington , first to set Americans upon Mars. His Honor's handclasp was somewhat moist and cold. His Honor's eyes held a trace of remoteness. Still, he was the honored home-comer, the successful returnee, the he would talk. Or would he? For he had very little to tell. He had traveled and he had returned and his voyage was very much like the voyages of the great mariners, from Columbus onward—long, dull periods of time passing, strangers. There were dozens of them up and down the street, standing beside parked cars, looking at him. But when he looked back at them, their eyes dropped, they turned away, they began moving off. He was still too much the First One to have his gaze met. feature. It was like looking into the mirror and seeing himself twenty-five years ago. But Ralphie's face was drawn, was worried in a way that few ten-year-old faces are. "Pretty good." Edith said, "He made top forum the six-month period before vacation, and he made top forum the six-month period you went away, Hank." He nodded, remembering that, remembering everything, remembering the warmth of her farewell, the warmth of Ralphie's farewell, their tears as he left for the experimental flight station in the Aleutians. They had feared for him, having read of the many launchings gone wrong even in continent-to-continent experimental flight. They had been right to worry. He had suffered much after that blow-up. But now they should be rejoicing, because he had survived and made the to get up on time when you were stationed at the base outside of town. You always said it reminded you—being able to see the sky—that you known, and that the beds and the barrier between them were her own choice, if only an unconscious choice. He went to the bed near the window, stripped off his Air Force blue jacket, There were several more on his back, and one on his right thigh. They'd been treated properly and would soon disappear. But she had never seen had changed. He was tired of thinking. He lay down and closed his eyes. He let himself taste bitterness, unhappiness, a loneliness he had never known friends which was, if anything, stronger than before. Once he could communicate this, the strangeness would disappear and the First One would again become good old Hank. It was little enough to ask for—a return to old values, old relationships, the normalcies of the backwash instead of the freneticisms of the lime-light. It would certainly be drop out of sight. So there he was, Henry Devers, at home with the family. So there he was, the hero returned, waiting to be treated as a human being. "Still going like sixty. We'll sell out before—" At that point he looked at Hank, and Hank nodded encouragement, desperately interested in mumbled, "Soup's getting cold," and began to eat. His hand shook a little his ruddy face was not quite as ruddy as Hank remembered it. Hank looked at Edith Edith was busy with her plate. Hank looked at Ralphie Ralphie was busy with his plate. Hank looked at Joe Joe was chewing, gazing out over their heads to the kitchen. Hank looked at Lucille she was disappearing into the living room. of, that he could have smashed more than a table. Edith said, "Hank!" Edith said, "He'll stay home, Hank. We'll spend an evening together—talking, watching TV, playing Monopoly." Hank stood up. "The question is not whether I want to. You both know I eyes—his wife's and son's eyes—could not meet his, and so he said he lighted room. "Phil and Rhona are here." He blinked at her. She smiled, and it seemed her old smile. "They're so anxious to see you, Hank. I could barely keep Phil from coming up and waking you himself. They want to go out and do the town. Please, Hank, say you will." He sat up. "Phil," he muttered. "Phil and Rhona." They'd had wonderful clapped Hank on the shoulder (but not the way he always had—so much more gently, almost remotely), and insisted they all drink more than was good for them as he always had. And for once, Hank was ready to go along on the drinking. For once, he matched Phil shot for shot, beer for beer. They didn't bowl very long. At ten o'clock they crossed the road to Manfred's Tavern, where Phil and the girls ordered sandwiches and coffee and Hank went right on drinking. Edith said something to him, but he merely smiled and waved his hand and gulped another ounce of nirvana. There was dancing to a juke box in Manfred's Tavern. He'd been there many times before, and he was sure several of the couples recognized him. But except for a few abortive glances in his direction, it was as if he were a stranger in a city halfway around the world. Hank said, "First one dance with my loving wife." Phil finished a story about a Martian and a Hollywood sex queen and looked at his wife and then past her at the long, cast-iron fence paralleling the road. "Hey," he said, pointing, "do you know why that's the most popular place on earth?" Rhona glanced to the left, and so did Hank and Edith. Rhona made a little sound, and Edith seemed to stop breathing, but Phil went on a "You know why?" he repeated, turning to the back seat, the laughter rumbling up from his chest. "You know why, folks?" Rhona said, "Did you notice Carl Braken and his wife at—" Hank said, "No, Phil, why is it the most popular place on earth?" Phil said, "Because people are—" And then he caught himself and waved his hand and muttered, "I forgot the punch line." "Because people are dying to get in," Hank said, and looked through the window, past the iron fence, into the large cemetery at the fleeting tombstones. The car was filled with horrified silence when there should have been nothing but laughter, or irritation at a too-old joke. "Maybe you should let me out right here," Hank said. "I'm home—or that's what everyone seems to think. Maybe I should lie down in an open grave. Maybe that Edith said, "Oh, Hank, don't, don't!" "Hank," Edith whispered from the guest room doorway, "I'm so sorry—" all work out in time." "Yes," she said quickly, "that's it. I need a little time. We all need a little time. Because it's so strange, Hank. Because it's so frightening. I should have told you that the moment you walked in. I think I've hurt you terribly, we've all hurt you terribly, by trying to hide that we're "I'm going to stay in the guest room," he said, "for as long as necessary. For good if need be." "How could it be for good? How, Hank?" That question was perhaps the first firm basis for hope he'd had since returning. And there was something else Edith said, "Yes, and I'm so grateful that you're here, Hank. Please He knew what the question was. It had been the first asked him by everyone from the president of the United States on down. "I saw nothing," he said. "It was as if I slept those six and a half months—slept without dreaming." She came to him and touched his face with her lips, and he was satisfied. Later, half asleep, he heard a dog howling, and remembered stories of how they announced death and the presence of monsters. He shivered and pulled the covers closer to him and luxuriated in being safe in his own

<question>:
Why do people keep asking Hank what he saw?

<options>:
A Hank was dead for months. People want to know about the afterlife.
B Hank was on the moon for months. People want to know what life was like there.
C Hank was dead for months. People want to know which religion got it right.
D Hank was out in space for months. People want to know what he saw on Mars.

<answer>:

A