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

<passage>:
"They look pretty complicated." "Not at all. The questions are quite explicit." Craig looked them over quickly. do is bet on the validity of a homesick dream! Flight Officer Robert Craig surrendered the tube containing his service record tapes and stood waiting while the bored process clerk examined the seal. "Your clearance," said the clerk. "We send it on ahead. Go to Grav 1 desk." A murmur greeted the order. Craig experienced the thrill of knowing the envy of the others. Grav 1—that meant Terra. He crossed the long, dreary room, knowing the eyes of the other men were upon him. "Your service tapes," the next noncom said. "Where you going?" "Grav 1—Terra," fumbled Craig. "Los Angeles." "Los Angeles, eh? Where in Los Angeles?" It had been a weird day and he had not liked it. There was no telling how long it would take him to shake his—sea legs, the psychologist had called it. One thing was sure: Terra aggressively went after its strangers. aggressive after Clerical, eh?" "I'm a little anxious to get home, I suppose," said Craig defensively. "By 'home' you mean Terra. But you've never been there, have you?" "No, but my father—" "Your parents left Terra during the Second Colonization of Cassiopeia II, didn't they?" "Yes," Craig said. He was uncomfortable The captain laughed reassuringly. "No, don't put up your guard again. The worst is over. Short of Gravitational conditioning, there is nothing to stop you from going to Terra." "Sorry, I guess I'm a little touchy. This is my first time...." "Quite natural. But it being your first time—in quite a number of conditioning." "Conditioning?" asked Craig. "Yes. You have spent eleven years in space. Your body is conditioned to "I know all about this, Captain." "You've undoubtedly read popularizations in tapezines. But you have the beginning. I'll turn you over to psychometry for the usual tests be pinned down to any specific condition the spaceman would find intolerable. Craig began to hate the delay that kept him from Terra. Through the ports of the headquarters base satellite, he scanned the constellations for the scores of worlds he had visited during his eleven years in space. They were incredibly varied, even those that supported life. He had weathered difficult landings on worlds with rip-tide gravities, had triple star systems. He had been on Einstein IV, the planet of eight moons, and had felt the pulse of all eight of the satellites at once that no PON could completely nullify. But even if he could accept the psychologist's authority for the unspoken warning he felt underlying all that the man said. "Of course it has changed," Craig was protesting. "Anyway, I never really knew very much about Terra. So what? I know it won't be as it was in tapezines either." "Yet you are so completely sure you will want to live out your life that you could not decide that for me and that my decision is logical. You tell me spacemen don't settle down on Terra. Yet you won't—or can't—tell me why. I've got a damned good job there—" "You may find that 'damned good jobs' become boring." "Sure. What else can it be?" "Mr. Craig," the psychologist said slowly, "you have my authorization for you to return to Terra as a private citizen of that planet. You will be given a very liberal supply of PON—which you will definitely need. Good luck. You'll need that too." conditioning process. over him. Four elongated eyes peered at him. Attendants coming for to take me home.... "Touch me and I'll kick your teeth in!" he yelled. "I'm going to Terra. Wish you were going to Terra?" Then it was better. Oddly, he passed the twelfth day easily. By the conditioning. The huge headquarters base centrifuge aboard the man-made satellite had gradually caused their bodies to respond once more to a Then they again began taking paraoxylnebutal in preparation for the free-fall flight to Terra. Only one of the score of men in the centrifuge tank remained voluntarily in his cot. "What will they do, exile him?" "Not to Chociante, if that's what you mean. They just jerked his space card and gave him a one-way ticket to Terra." "For twelve murders?" asked Craig incredulously. "That's enough, son." The old man eyed Craig for an instant before looking away. "Pick something to talk about. What do you figure on doing when you get to Terra, for instance?" "I'm going into Import. My father was in it for twenty years." "Sure," said the old spaceman, watching a group of young crewmen guess I spent too long in Zone V." He paused to examine his wrinkled hands. They were indelibly marked with lever callouses. "You get to thinking anyone who stays closer'n eighty light years from Terra is a "Whereabouts?" "Los Angeles." The old man looked up at Craig. "You don't know much about Terra, do you, son?" "Not much." beginning to feel a reaction to the short free-fall flight from the headquarters satellite. The audio called out: "Flight Officer Robert Craig. Flight Officer Robert Craig. Report to Orderly 12. Report to Orderly 12 through the With pangs of anxiety he could not completely suppress, Craig obeyed. Orderly 12 handed him a message container. "Who's it from? Somebody on Terra?" "From a private spaceman named Morgan Brockman." " with me, but she wouldn't go. Earth was a lot different then than it is now. They don't have to tell me impressions. One day he would recall this moment, his first on the planet Terra. He tried to recall his first thrill at seeing Los Angeles, 1500 square miles of it, from the ship as it entered the atmosphere. He was about to step off the last step when a man appeared hurriedly. A rather plump man, he displayed a toothy smile on his puffy red face. "A moment, sir. Just a little greeting from the Terra. You understand, of course. Purely routine." Craig remained on the final step of the ramp, puzzled. The man turned "Customs. Bet you never got such a smooth screening before, eh?" "You mean he screened get it over with quick." Craig made his way toward the spaceport administration building. His first physical contact with Terra had passed unnoticed. "Sir! Sir!" cried a voice behind him. He wheeled to see a man walking briskly toward him. personnel man said finally. "That so?" "Yes." He turned to face Craig briefly before continuing. "You must been anywhere very long. This is my first real experience with life on a planet. As an adult, anyway." The personnel man seated himself once more and pressed a button on a "Miss Wendel, this is Mr. Craig. Mr. Craig, my secretary. Mr. Craig will enter Minerals and Metals, Zone V." attempted to catch her eye had she not immediately occupied herself with unfolding the legs of a small instrument she was carrying. "This is Mr. Craig's first landing on Terra, Miss Wendel," the personnel man continued. "Actually, we shall have to consider him in much the same way we would an extraterrestrial." The girl glanced at him once more, this time with a definite quizzical look in her brown eyes. "Three complete tours of duty, I believe." "Four," corrected Craig. "Four tours of three years each, minus a year's terminal leave." "I take it you have no identification card?" the man asked. without looking at Craig. "Yes." The man laughed. "You'll excuse us, Mr. Craig. We realize that you couldn't be expected to be familiar with Terra's fashions. In your present outfit you would certainly be typed as a ... well, you'd be made uncomfortable."

<question>:
Which activity is part of the psychometric evaluation?

<options>:
A A trial period of exposure to gravity conditions on Terra
B Role playing worst case scenarios on Terra
C Exposure to video and audio footage from Terra
D Lengthy interviews with multiple officials who have been to Terra

<answer>:

A