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 PLANET NAMED JOE By S. A. LOMBINO There were more Joes on Venus than you could shake a ray-gun at. Perhaps there was method in Colonel Colonel Walsh had a great sense of humor. I hated his guts ever since we went through the Academy together, but he had a great sense of humor. For example, he could have chosen a Second Looie for the job on Venus. He might even have picked a Captain. But he liked me about as much as his fingers. He held them up in front of him like a cathedral. "Yes, sir," I said. "It will involve finding one man, a Venusian native." I wanted to say, "Then why the hell don't you send a green kid on the job? Why me?" Instead, I nodded and watched him playing with his added, "For a native, that is." I had never liked Walsh's attitude toward natives. I hadn't liked the way he'd treated the natives on Mars ever since he'd taken over there. Which brought to mind an important point. "I always figured Venus was under the jurisdiction of Space III, sir. I thought our activities were confined to Mars." "Mmmm," he said, "yes, that's true. But this is a special job. It so happens this Venusian is the one man who can help us understand just what's happening on Mars." I tried to picture a Venusian understanding Mars and I didn't get very far. "He's had many dealings with the natives there," Walsh explained. "If it "revolt." It had been going on for six months now and we'd lost at least a thousand men from Space II. Revolt. "And this man is on Venus now?" I asked for confirmation. I'd never been to Venus, being in Space II ever since I'd left the Moon run. It was just like Walsh to ship me off to a strange place. "Yes, Major," he said. "This man is on Venus." At the Academy he had called me Fred. That was before I'd reported "A relatively simple assignment," Walsh said. Personal habits? Anything?" Walsh seemed to consider this for a moment. "Well, physically he's like any of the other Venusians, so I can't give you much help there. He does have a peculiar habit, though." "What's that?" I sighed. "Well, it's not very much to go on." "You'll find him," Walsh said, grinning. "I'm sure of it." The trip to Venus came off without a hitch. I did a lot of thinking on that trip. I thought about Mars and the revolt there. And I thought about Colonel Leonard Walsh and how he was supposed to be quelling that pushing the natives around, there'd been trouble. It was almost as if the whole damned planet had blown up in our faces the moment he took over. Swell guy, Walsh. Venus was hotter than I'd expected it to be. Much too hot for the tunic I was wearing. It smelled, too. A funny smell I couldn't place. Like a mixture of old shoe and after-shave. There were plants everywhere curse Walsh for taking me away from my nice soft job in Space II. There wasn't much inside the club. A few tables and chairs, a dart game and a bar. Behind the bar a tall Venusian lounged. "Skip it," I said. "How do I get to the captain's shack?" great gag. Very funny. Very.... "You Major Polk, sweetheart?" the Venusian who'd just come in asked. was empty. Quickly, he pressed a button on his desk and the door popped open. A tall, blue Venusian stepped lithely into the room. was so funny. I tossed him my withering Superior Officer's gaze and waited for his explanation. "I hadn't realized this was your first time on Venus," he said. "Is there a local hero named Joe?" I asked. "No, no, nothing like that," he assured me. "It's a simple culture, you know. Not nearly as developed as Mars." "I can see that," I said bitingly. "And the natives are only now becoming acquainted with Terran culture. "Easy, sir," Bransten said, turning pale. I could see that the Captain wasn't used to entertaining Majors. "The enlisted men. You know how "Well," Bransten went on, "that sort of thing mushrooms. The natives are a simple, almost childish people. It appealed to them—the Joe business, I mean. Now they're all Joe. They like it. That and the cigarettes." He cleared his throat and looked at me apologetically as if he were personally responsible for Venusian culture. In fact, he looked as if he were responsible for having put Venus in the heavens in the first place. "Do you understand, Major? Just a case of extended idiom, that's all." difficulties, are you?" One: I could say the hell with Walsh and Venus. That would mean hopping the next ship back to Earth. Service altogether. Two: I could assume there really was a guy name Joe somewhere in that jungle, a Joe separate and apart from the other Joes on this planet, a trader Joe who knew the Martians well. I could always admit failure, of was I'd try to find him. It was still a hell of a trick though. I cursed Walsh again and pushed the buzzer near my bed. A tall Venusian stepped into the room. "Joe?" I asked, just to be sure. "Who else, boss?" he answered. almost a childish people! "His name is Joe," the Venusian told me. "Best damn guide on the When he was gone I began figuring out a plan of action. Obviously, I'd just have to traipse through the jungle looking for a guy named Joe on a planet where everyone was named Joe. Everybody, at least, but the Captain, the small garrison attached to the Station, and me. I began wondering why Walsh had gone to so much trouble to get rid of me. The job, as I saw it, would take a hell of a long time. It seemed gag, and I made up my mind to be extremely careful from here on in. The guide arrived at fifteen hundred on the dot. He was tall, elongated, looked almost like all the other Venusians I'd seen so far. "I understand you need a Grade A guide, sir," he said. impenetrable jungle invariably to find a little path leading directly me a while to realize they were addressing me and not my guide. Everybody was Joe. It was one beautiful, happy, joyous round of stinking, hot jungle. And I wasn't getting any nearer my man. Nor had I any idea how I was supposed to find him. I began to feel pretty low Joe, on the other hand, enjoyed every moment of the trip. In each village he greeted the natives cheerfully, told them stories, swapped that would give a momentary lift to my own depressed state of mind. He would talk for hours on end as we hacked our way through the jungle. "I like Venus," he said once. "I would never leave it." "Have you ever been to Earth?" I asked. "No," Joe replied. "I like Terrans too, you understand. They are good for Venus. And they are fun." "Fun?" I asked, thinking of a particular species of Terran: species Leonard Walsh. just my guide. There had been the strained relationship of employer and began to crumble. I found myself telling him all about Earth, about grinding pace to find what we were looking for. "What's the story?" I whispered. "You gave me a powerful handicap to overcome," Walsh said. "I suppose I unimportant drama. understand the seriousness of our voices. What had happened to the "The natives," he practically shouted. "They ... they...." "A man of my calibre," he said then, his face grim. "Dealing with

<question>:
What made the narrator's mission so difficult?

<options>:
A No one cooperated with the narrator to help him find the right Joe.
B He became incapacitated by the hot weather on Venus.
C He became physically lost on Venus.
D The inhabitants of Venus were all very much the same.

<answer>:

D