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

<passage>:
its contents when he was through BY FREDERICK POHL Out in the great gas cloud of the Orion and there was the question of time. they all have come from his own ship. He was prepared to swear that nothing like this antique had been aboard. The drone began again in his ear, as it had at five-minute intervals all along: And louder, blaring, then fading to normal volume as the AVC circuits toned the signal down, another voice. A woman's voice, crying out in panic and fear: " like a voice. He could not quite hear it, but it was there. He sat as still as he could, listening Hatcher, who was not human, did not possess truly human emotions to this damned, dark, dismal hole of a place where everything was out to Hatcher knew that this was not a freak show, but a matter of life and hurt him and nothing explained what was going on. He cried aloud in exasperation: "If I could only Hatcher hesitated. "No," he said at last. "The male is responding well. out, brought here in a suit ... well, it was an explanation with more holes than fabric, like a fisherman's net, but at least it was rational. How to explain a set of Gibbon's from them issued the pungent, distasteful halogen odor. They might be ventilators, he thought but if so the air they brought in was worse than what he already had. apparently in her late thirties. She appeared to be Chinese. She breathed, a little raggedly but without visible discomfort her face was relaxed as though she were sleeping. She did not rouse as he moved her. He realized she was breathing the air of the room they were in. His instant first thought was that she was in danger of asphyxiation refreshed him, like icewater between rounds, and with a clearing head he remembered what a spacesuit was good for. Of course, the thing might not be operating. He reached for the microphone again— He cried aloud. antibiotic—and with the prayerful emotions of a starving, shipwrecked, sailor, watching the inward bobbing drift of a wave-born cask that may Suppose you call him "Hatcher" (and suppose you call it a "him.") Hatcher a number of sports which defy human Hatcher's principal task at this moment was to run the "probe team" yet they were the calmest limbs in the room "Paranormal powers," muttered Hatcher's second in command, and the After a long moment he turned his senses from the Earthman. "Incredible—but it's true enough," he said. "I'd better report. Watch him," he added, but that was surely unnecessary. Their job was to Hatcher hurried through the halls of the great buried structure in Hatcher identified himself and gave a quick, concise report: "The subject recovered consciousness a short time ago and began to inspect his enclosure. His method of doing so was to put his own manipulating certain appurtenances of an artificial skin we had provided for him. "He then began to vibrate the atmosphere by means of resonating organs in his breathing passage. "Simultaneously, the object he was holding, attached to the artificial skin, was discovered to be generating paranormal forces." now, but I can say that they are electromagnetic vibrations modulating a carrier wave of very high speed, and in turn modulated by the vibrations of the atmosphere caused by the subject's own breathing." "Fantastic," breathed the councillor, in a tone of dawning hope. "How about communicating with him, Hatcher? Any progress?" was not really a waste of time for him with the organs he had left in biophysical nuances of his enclosure —"and tried to guess his needs and we're frightening him half to death. We can't go faster. This creature is in no way similar to us, you know. He relies on paranormal forces—heat, light, kinetic energy—for his life. His chemistry is not ours, his processes of thought are not ours, his entire organism is closer to the inanimate rocks of a sea-bottom than to ourselves." "But the danger to the specimen—" Hatcher protested automatically. now ." Hatcher did not like the idea of endangering the Earthman. It cannot Hatcher did not want him destroyed. It had been difficult enough entirely pleasant to Earthmen. A slit in the lower hemisphere of his body opened, like a purse, emitting a thin, pussy, fetid fluid which Hatcher caught and poured into a disposal trough at the side of the of kelp it closed, and his body was supplied with nourishment for another day. He returned quickly to the room. existence to their enemies— "Hatcher!" The call was urgent second in command, very excited. "What is it?" Hatcher demanded. Hatcher was patient themselves into their vestigial slots, poured back their wastes into his own circulation and ingested what they needed from the meal he had just taken.... "Now!" cried the assistant. "Look!" "Killing him, Hatcher?" Hatcher rose and shook himself, his mindless members floating away like perhaps, a nice new sound that had not been there before a very faint, an almost inaudible elfin hiss. but perhaps, he thought, he could smell one. The unpleasant halogen odor from the grating was surely stronger now. He stood there, perplexed. A tinny little voice from the helmet of the space suit said sharply, calling from?" He forgot smell, sound and temperature and leaped for the suit. "This calling. Answer, please!" "I am answering, damn it," he roared. "What took you so long?" hours to get a message to the ship and back? And if so ... where in the name of heaven was he? of his situation and his guesses. "I don't know how I got here. I don't know how long I've been gone, since I was unconscious for a consider what to do next. He mopped his brow. With the droning, repetitious call from the ship finally quiet, the room was quiet again. And warm. and more than that. The halogen stench was strong in his nostrils again. Hurriedly McCray scrambled into the suit. By the time he was sealed down he was coughing from the bottom of his lungs, deep, tearing rasps that pained him, uncontrollable. Chlorine or fluorine, one of them was in the air he had been breathing. He could not guess where it had come from but it was ripping his lungs out. He flushed the interior of the suit out with a reckless disregard for the wastage of his air reserve, holding his breath as much as he could, daring only shallow gasps that made him retch and gag. After a long time he could breathe, though his eyes were spilling tears. He could see the fumes in the room now. The heat was building up. Automatically—now that he had put it on and so started its deep-space suit, regulation garb when going outside the pressure hull of an FTL ship. It was good up to at least five hundred degrees in thin air, perhaps three or four hundred in dense. In thin air or in space it was the elastic joints and couplings that depolymerized when the heat grew too great in dense air, with conduction pouring energy in faster than the cooling coils could suck it out and hurl it away, it was the refrigerating equipment that broke down. never mind how. Never mind what he would, or could, do next all those questions could recede into the background of his mind while he swung the ax and battered his way out of this poisoned At this rate, he thought grimly, he would be an hour getting through it. Did he have an hour? But it did not take an hour. One blow was luckier than the rest as nearly closed as he could it might not keep the gas and heat out, but it would retard them. could batter it open, but it was not likely that much would be left of

<question>:
What does hatcher mean when he says, “to vibrate the atmosphere by means of resonating organs in his breathing passage.”

<options>:
A To speak
B To sigh
C To panic
D To breathe

<answer>:

A