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

<passage>:
THE HUNTED HEROES "I never bothered to find out their names," Ledman said casually. "They were The planet itself was tough enough—barren, desolate, forbidding genius who had a motto: Death to all Terrans! "Let's enough to stop the most adventurous and against the redness of the sands. They were the dried, parched skeletons of Earthmen. Bits of cloth and plastic, once oxymasks and suits, still airlock, smiling. that some grease monkey back our grandparents' mistakes. names now. None of them had been particularly close September 1956. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. They had used their atomics at the Dome was at fault—whoever Geigs?" I asked. " Why? What've they ever done to walking on the spongy sand of the Martian desert. We'd you?" "Because I hate you," he said blandly. "I intend to wipe every last one of you out, one by one." Ron?" Val pleaded. "Maybe He smiled, as calmly as if been walking a good eight out here!" I started to tell her that the for fuel. It was an atomic world. "No," Ledman said evenly. "I'm quite sane, believe me. But I'm determined to drive the Geigs—and UranCo—off Mars. Eventually I'll scare you all away." "Just pick us off in the desert?" and clumsily enfolded hers. "Come on, kid. Remember—we're doing this for Earth. We're heroes." She glared at me. "Heroes, hell!" she muttered. "That's Mars." "What are you going to do with us?" Val finally asked, "Kill you," he told her. "Not your husband. I want him as the clicks of the counter. And the geigers had been obstinately for their constant undercurrent of meaningless noises. Even though the Martian gravity was only a fraction of her lovely but unrugged legs. "Heroes," she said bitterly. "We're not heroes—we're you volunteer for the Geig Earth to keep the atomic engines going. Right?" I nodded over at our geiger Mars," Val said irrelevantly. "Ah—two young heroes," but we had felt it a sort of obligation, something we could do as individuals to Earth going. And we'd always had a roving foot, both of us. No, we had decided together to come to Mars—the way we decided together on contract for my company. You know who I am, now?" barren terrain. The geiger I nodded. spongy Martian sand and bury myself. blanket. I still didn't understand. "But why kill us Geigs? We had nothing to do with it." "You're just in this by accident," up with the idea before I did. I wished there was some way of turning the weary, bedraggled the Geigs. the geiger harness, and lowered Ron?" Val asked sleepily. I began, "Uran—" "Don't bother. A more inventive title than Ledman There's not a great deal of uranium on this planet, but to which, unfortunately, I'm Mars after all. But, I reminded myself, someone no longer accustomed." among a pile of hypodermics. "There are other injections, too. Adrenalin, insulin. Others. The Blast turned me into a walking pin-cushion. it seemed hard to believe that we'd exchanged Earth and all it held for us for the raw, untamed struggle that was Mars. to make bombs. We used ours had. Heroes? Hell, no. We just liked our comforts, and threat that disturbed me, so much as the whole concept, so strange to me, that the human mind could be as warped same way I did. "Do you really think you can succeed?" I taunted him. "Really think you can kill every Earthman on Mars? Of all the insane, cockeyed—" Val's quick, worried head-shake teams. That's what had finally decided it for us—we were a married couples, working in Earth that couldn't be broken we volunteered. And here we are. Heroes. powerful as you, today—instead of a useless cripple in a without much difficulty. So once again to wake Val. innocent people who've done nothing, nothing at all to you. That's not sane!" His eyes blazed. "Who are fly. It wasn't Martians that had done it. There weren't any Martians, hadn't been for a million years. It was some Earthman who had bound us. I rolled my eyes toward Val, and saw that she was us only a short time ago, I realized. "Ron—" to snap, "Lie still, Val!" oxysuits we had. He wore an outmoded, bulky spacesuit and a fishbowl helmet, all but the face area opaque. The oxygen cannisters him, and this struck me odd. I thought I knew everyone on sparsely-settled Mars. sickness out of you, and turn bound against the sides of our oxysuits. "Walk," the stranger said, now," he said. "No. That's the difference between sane people and insane," I told him. "I'm not going to kill you at all. I'm going to see to it that you're sent back to Earth." " No! walking. You don't argue with a blaster, even if the man pointing it is in a wheelchair. "What's going on, Ron?" me—" "Not so loud," I broke in. society again." "I hate Earthmen," he spat out. "I hate all of them." "I know," I said sarcastically. "They'll help you on Earth. "You're just all full of They'll take all the hatred and talking. We trudged along together, with him following behind hate. You hated us so much that you couldn't bear to hang around on Earth for as much to leave." "Why are you telling all ever left Earth. The answer to that came to me quick enough: we had to. Earth needed radioactives, and the only way to get them even with prosthetic legs, because them to." "You left Earth too quickly," atomic-powered prosthetics—amazing things, virtually robot legs. All the survivors of the Sadlerville Blast were roadways. We had profited by Everything: power drills, except you. You were so sick you had to get away from the printing presses, typewriters, can openers, ocean liners, powered by the inexhaustible limbs free of charge. All nuclei isn't. After three centuries of heavy consumption, of events that led Val and me to end up as a madman's prisoners, have added Val to the number on Mars. With every source of uranium mined dry Earth. But you decided to channel everything out as revenge." "I still don't believe it—those picture the sort of dog-eat-dog world we'd revert back to. Millions of starving, freezing humans tooth-and-clawing in it in the useless shell of a great atomic civilization. So, Mars. There's not much tangle-cord when I kicked you over?" "Yes—human legs aren't strong enough to break tangle-cord that way." Enter the Geig Corps: volunteers starts functioning. Mars, combing for its uranium deposits. And here we are, I thought. legs. The almost soundless purr of their motors was the After we walked on a out on the face of my legs." this was actually quite near us and fairly small. A one-man Dome, of all things! "Welcome to my home," he let's go. Between the psychs and the prosthetics men, you'll be a new man inside of a year." When they're finished, Gregory Ledman the killer "Got the geigers, honey?" His face was a bitter, dried-up mask. He was a man been out on the desert. I realized now that I had been driving her mercilessly—me, with my chromium legs and atomic-powered muscles. No wonder She lifted the geiger harnesses,

<question>:
Val and Ron's geiger is programmed to identify:

<options>:
A The Sandcat
B The Dome
C Uranium
D humans

<answer>:

C