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

<passage>:
relentlessly toward him. He awoke still screaming.... A night without darkness passed. Ben lay waiting for Maggie's return, a question already formed in his mind. With never a moment to rest, the pursuit through space felt like a game of hounds and hares ... or was it follow the leader? "Who is he?" She sat on the chair beside him. why you saved me?" "Why aren't you with him now?" "He said unexplored space is no place for a woman. So I've been Investigation and trying to find recruits like yourself. You know how we operate?" He told her the tales he'd heard. She nodded. "There are quite a few of us now—about a thousand—and a after we got pushed off Mars. We lost a few men in the construction, but with almost every advance in space, someone dies." "Venus is getting too civilized. We're moving out and this dome is only to Hoover City—except dead. The others are physical or psycho rejects who couldn't get clearance if they went back to Earth. They know it, that's our business." She pursed her lips. "But if they guessed how strong we are or that we have friends planted in the I. B. I.—well, things might be different. There probably would be a crackdown." pushed out of the System itself. Maybe it won't be the white-suited boys who'll make that first hop to the stars. It The boy grabbed his hand. Because Ben could think of no reason for resisting, he followed. They plunged into shifting layers of smoke and through the drone of alcohol-cracked voices. They passed the bar with its line of lean-featured, slit-eyed Ben stiffened. "And that's why you want me for an astrogator." Maggie rose, her eyes wistful. "If you want to come—and if you get well." She looked at him strangely. "Suppose—" He fought to find the right words. "Suppose I got well and decided not to join Jacob. What would happen to me? Would you let me go?" Her thin face was criss-crossed by emotion—alarm, then bewilderment, then fear. "I don't know. That would be up to Jacob." He lay biting his lip, staring at the photo of Jacob. She touched his hand and it seemed that sadness now dominated the flurry of emotion that had coursed through her. When she left, his eyes were still turned toward Jacob's photo. He was like two people, he thought. , Ben told himself. Close in the shadows." Ben winced. How did this kid know he wanted to sit in the shadows? For an instant, Ben's mind rose above the haunting vision of the dead Sometimes the image would be shuffling drunkenly beside him, its lips spitting whiskey-slurred curses. At the age of five—perhaps in order to dull the memory of his parents' death in a recent strato-jet crash—he'd spent hours watching the night Ben rose and started to leave the bar, but Cobb grabbed his arm and Until this instant, Ben had suppressed his anger. Now, suddenly and Ben knew that he was dead. Then, for a single absurd second, Ben was seized with terror—just as, a moment before, he'd been overwhelmed with anger. He ran. peeking through electric fences of spaceports. Or— There were old wives' tales of a group of renegade spacemen who operated from the Solar System's frontiers. The spacemen weren't outlaws. They were misfits, rejectees from the clearing houses on Earth. Ben didn't answer. "They say it is because after women come, they want first thing a Ben raised his hand as if to strike the boy. reward must have been offered for his capture. Whom could he trust? The Martian kid, perhaps? Eyes blinked and squinted. There were swift, frightened movements and a chorus of angry murmurs. The patrons of the Blast Inn were like tatter-clad occupants of a house whose walls have been ripped away. falling. The white-clad men charged, neuro-clubs upraised. A woman screamed. The music ceased. The Martian orchestra slunk with feline stealth to a rear exit. Only the giant Venusians remained undisturbed. They stood unmoving, their staring eyes shifting lazily in Just another second— Or would the exits be guarded? He heard the hiss. body overpowered him. In the dark world beyond his fading consciousness, he heard a voice yell, "Turn on the damn lights!" "You may die if you don't give yourself up." "No, no." He tried to stumble toward the exit. at once. "Anti ... anti ..." The words were as heavy as blobs of mercury forced consciousness was an intangible evolution from a world of black nothingness to a dream-like state of awareness. He felt the pressure of hands on his naked arms and shoulders, hands that massaged, manipulated, fought to restore circulation and constantly above him—a face, he supposed. He tried to talk. Although his lips moved slightly, the only sound was a deep, staccato grunting. But he heard someone say, "Don't try to talk." It was the same gentle mist. Always, it seemed, the soft voice was echoing in his ears: "Swallow this now. That's it. You must have food." Or, "Close your and thirty. Her features, devoid of makeup, had an unhealthy-looking pallor, as if she hadn't used a sunlamp for many weeks. Yet, at the same time, her firm slim body suggested a solidity and a strength. Her straight brown hair was combed backward, tight upon her scalp, and drawn together in a knot at the nape of her neck. "I—I am better," he murmured. His words were still slow and thick. "I "Yes." "Why?" Suddenly he began to cough. Breath came hard. She held the oxygen mask in readiness. He shook his head, not wanting it. "Why?" he asked again. "It would be a long story. Perhaps I'll tell you tomorrow." A new thought, cloaked in sudden fear, entered his murky consciousness. He lay back then, panting, exhausted. "You have nothing to worry about," the girl said softly. Her cool hand touched his hot forehead. "Rest. We'll talk later." His eyes closed and breath came easier. He slept. the edge of the Universe overlooking a solemn, silent and matterless void. The girl entered the room. "Hi," she said, smiling. The dark half-moons under her eyes were less prominent. Her face was relaxed. She increased the pressure in his rubberex pillows and helped him rise to a sitting position. He looked at her, wondering. "You won't tell me?" "Not yet. Later, perhaps." "Then how did you get me here? How did we escape from the Inn?" She shrugged. "We have friends who can be bribed. A hiding place in the "Maggie." "Why did you save me?" His own eyes widened. "How did you know that?" She sat on a plain chair beside his bed. "I know everything about you, "There are ways of finding out what we want to know. As I told you, we have many friends." He fell back into his pillows, breathing hard. She rose quickly. "I'm sorry," she said. "I shouldn't have told you yet. I felt so happy "Maggie, you—you said I'd live. You didn't say I'd be able to walk She hesitated. He thought, Damn it, of all the questions, why did I ask that? "Children?" "Two. I don't know their ages." She left the room. He sank into the softness of his bed. As he turned over on his side, down and beckoned to him. Ben crawled through the night on hands and knees, his legs numb and useless. The crying of the children was a

<question>:
Why did Maggie decide to save Ben?

<options>:
A She felt sorry for him, knowing he hadn't meant to kill Cobb.
B She knew her husband needed an astrogator.
C She was also on the run and needed a companion.
D She was pressured by the others.

<answer>:

B