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

<passage>:
I repeated it patiently. "But why?" he cried, sinking down into the chair before me. In an instant all the joy had gone out of him. I could not understand his forgetting one tiny thing—like calls to like. Peter's eyes were dull, his limbs slumped. For a moment I thought that trickling down into his sodden sleeve, and falling, drop by slow drop, "To do so would be illogical." He waved his hands helplessly. "Gratitude?" he muttered. "No, you don't understand that, either." "I do not understand 'friend,'" I said. arrangement: I did what Peter wished, so long as I did not actively an expression on his face that I had never seen there before, and that, and yet it had nothing to do with logic, somehow, I did not like to see. It was disquieting, and so I hastened to the end that I knew was inevitable. either. It was just an emptiness—a void that could not be filled by eating or drinking. Peter called an emotion It was not a longing. I had no desire that things should be otherwise than they were. I did not even wish that Peter were not dead, for reason had told me that he had to die. That was the end of it. But the void was still there, unexplainable and impossible to ignore. me, nagging, gnawing. And suddenly—something moved on the skin of my For the first time in all my life I had found a problem that I could Young Peter Karson put the last black-print down and sighed with A discordant note suddenly entered his fantasy. He looked up, conscious of the walls of his office again, but could see nothing unusual. Still, that thin, dark whisper of dread was at the back of his mind. Slowly, For a moment or an eternity it hung there, unsupported, the bulging eyes staring at him. Then it grew misty at the edges. It dissolved slowly away and was gone. He stared after it, stunned into immobility. Down in the street moment he heard the faint swish of a tube car going past. Everything glad that what he had seen was terrible reality rather than even more terrible illusion. laboratory. Peter took it in fifteen seconds, running, and stumbled to "What makes, Peter my love?" she asked, and bent back to the ledger. "Darling, what's wrong?" hours straight. Haven't seen anybody, haven't heard anything. Why?" you know I haven't one—it bores me or upsets me, depending on whether "Peter!" she said faintly. "Why do they broadcast such things?" "They have to," he told her grimly. "There will be panics and suicides, and they know it away from their victims and angled slowly up the street. Peter reached Then they faded slowly. It was impossible to say whether they had gone through the solid wall, or simply melted away. The man and woman clung together, waiting. Peter's lips were cold with sweat. Tiny nerves in his face and arms "Wait here," he mouthed. She was after him, clinging to his arms. "No, Peter! Don't go in there! Peter! cleared away to make room for an incompleted setup. Peter walked down Peter forced himself forward another step. Little Harry Kanin, In a moment Peter realized what they were doing to him. He stood, in a terrible voice, "Why? Why?" but there was a tiny sound in Peter's brain, a thin, dry whispering. "I can't understand," he cried wildly. "What do you want?" He heard a faint sound behind him, and whirled. It was the first Opreniktoulestritifenrelngetnaktwiltoctpre. " His voice was hoarse. "Don't look! Don't—Go back!" The horrible, Somebody said, "Doctor!" He wanted to say, "Yes, get a doctor. Lorelei—" but his mouth only "Where am I?" he said. He tried to turn his head, but a firm hand Peter's head began spinning just a little. Glass clinked from a metal In a moment he began to relax, and the room got fuzzy again. Just before he drifted off, he said sleepily, "You can't—fool me. It's been more —than three—months." "But where is she?" Peter complained. "You still haven't explained why months ago." "But why?" Peter whispered. Peter couldn't think of anything to say. Dr. Arnold's voice went on "And since then?" Peter asked huskily. enough to take care of a quarter of the earth's population, the other three-quarters will be dead, or worse." "I wonder," Peter said shakily, "if I am strong enough to take it." last hope, you see." "Our last hope?" "I see," said Peter. And for the first time, he thought of the . No plan leaped full-born into his mind, but, Lorelei said, "You can't do it. I won't let you! Peter—" "Darling," he began wearily. "Don't throw your life away! Give us time—there must be another way." but that's only delaying the end. They still come down here, only not as many. The mortality rate is up, the suicide rate is up, the birth rate is down, in spite of anything we can do. You've seen the figures: we're riding a curve that ends in extinction fifty years from now. "They'll live, and we'll die, because they're a superior race. We're a million years too far back even to understand what they are or where He stared unseeingly past her wet, upturned face. "You know why," he said bitterly. "Those rays are strong. They don't only work on embryos they change adult life forms, too. I have one chance in seven of staying alive. You'd have one chance in a million of staying beautiful. I couldn't stand that. I'd kill myself, and then humanity would die, Her sobs gradually died away. She straightened slowly until he no longer had to support her, but all the vitality and resilience was gone out of her body. "All right," she said in a lifeless voice. "You'll come back, Peter." He turned away suddenly, not trusting himself to kiss her goodbye. A line from an old film kept echoing through his head. " They'll !" We'll come back, but not as men. We'll come back, but not as elephants. We'll come back, but not as octopi. He was trembling violently. He ran the last few steps, stumbled into the airlock, and pressed the stud that would seal the door behind him. We'll come back.... He heard the massive disk sink home, closing him its slow, monstrous alchemy upon him. Peter waited until the changes hungry, slept when his driving purpose let him, and worked unceasingly, searching for the million-to-one chance. He stared sometimes through changed eyes at the tiny blue star that was Earth, wondering if the race he had left behind still burrowed in its worm-tunnels, digging deeper and deeper away from the sunlight. But after a time he ceased even to wonder. Peter closed the diary. "The rest you know, Robert," he said. He rose and strode nervously over to the window. I watched him as he He turned again, and I saw the old scar on his cheek where I had once accidentally drawn one of my talons across his face. "And now," he said softly, "we will go home. I've waited so long—keeping the control chamber and the engine room locked away from He looked at me, a little oddly, almost as if he had some instinctive

<question>:
Before his departure, Peter recalls a line from a film. Why does it come to mind for him?

<options>:
A He recognizes that he will be a changed, mutated man when he returns. He literally will come back "not as a boy."
B He's trying to convince himself that he and humanity will be able to come back, with the emphasis on "We'll come back."
C The situation is grave. Like men who go off to war, the journey will change them. He won't be coming home as the same "boy."
D He's not sure he'll be coming back, and the song is bittersweet for him.

<answer>:

A