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

<passage>:
actor are you?" "That's a silly question." "You only have to do three things. Walk with your gun out in front of you, firing. That's number one. Number two is to clutch at your heart and fall down dead. Number three is to clutch at your side, fall down and twitch on the ground. Is that clear?" "Clear as the Coal Sack Nebula...." He didn't resist. They took him straight ahead to his destination and the controls and keeping his words to himself until just now. directness. "A ship hasn't landed here for an hour. Your ship was the on carved benches during their time-off, stirred to their feet and They both waited, thrust against the shipside and held by a hand of gravity listening to each other's breathing hard in the earphones. he and Marnagan rattled around—human dice in a croupier's cup. The shell of the ship burst, guns with them in their tight hands. Gunther babbled like a child, his voice a shrill dagger in the air. quick crazy, unimportant things. The best scenes in life never reach film, or an audience. Like this one, dammit! Like this "Get out there, you men! Throw them back! We're outnumbered!" brain spun, racketing like the instantaneous, flicking motions of his camera. Silence came and engulfed all the noise, ate it up and swallowed it. Guns flared. But the Patrol came on. Gunther's men didn't run, Hathaway had to credit them on that. They took it, standing. of the Patrolmen clutch at their hearts, crumple, lie on the ground and fragile, bony legs and their atrophied state. fingers as if it had grown there when he was born. He stood there, thinking "Well, I'll at least have a few good scenes on film. I'll—" His voice stopped and the silence spoke. suffocation a better death...? Sixty minutes. They stood and looked at one another. They started walking, fast, over the pocked, rubbled plain toward a bony ridge of metal. They kept their eyes wide and awake. There wasn't much to see, but it was better than standing still, waiting. Marnagan said, "We're working on margin, and we got nothin' to sweat with except your suspicions about this not being an accident. We got fifty minutes to prove you're right. After that—right or wrong—you'll the crash this way." Marnagan said nothing, but his thick lips went down at the corners, far They stopped, together. "Oops!" Click said. limbless, suddenly. "Irish! We lost weight, coming over that ridge!" They ran back. "Let's try it again." They tried it. They scowled at each other. The same thing happened. "Gravity should not act this way, Click." scene!" "Use your gun." "They got impervious hides. No use. Gahh! And that was a pretty chase, eh, Click?" "Yeah. Sure. "Let me think—" "Lots of time, little man. Forty more minutes of air, to be exact." They sat, staring at the monsters for about a minute. Hathaway felt funny about something me doing it. Joking in the face of death." "Me father taught me for nothing but a covering over the fast, furious thinking running anything. Nobody fooled nobody with this act. Death was near and they had sweaty faces, dry mouths and frozen guts. When Click finished filming, Irish sat down to save oxygen, and used it air and energy flung out. Five hundred Patrolmen in one long, incredible line, carrying paralysis monsters weren't there, they weren't there. "Yeah," said Marnagan. "But step outside this cave—" "If my theory is correct I'll do it, unafraid," said Click. for teaching Junior Patrolmen how to act in tough spots. First-hand education. Poke another spool of film in that contraption and give me profile a scan. This is lesson number seven: Daniel Walks Into The "Shut up and load up." Think it hard. There aren't any animals—" "Keep me in focus, lad." "What do they say...? Oh, yeah. Action. Lights. Camera!" two, three, four steps out into the outside world. The monsters were waiting for him at the fifth step. Marnagan kept walking. Right out into the middle of them.... animated. "They just plain vanished. They were only imaginative figments!" "Think not, Mr. Marnagan? As long as we believed in them they could have frightened us to death, forced us, maybe, to commit suicide. If that isn't being dangerous—" they never had a chance to disbelieve them." "If it hadn't been for you taking them pictures, Click—" "Coupled with your damned stubborn attitude about the accident—" Click stopped and felt his insides turning to water. He shook his head and felt a film slip down over his eyes. He spread his legs out to steady himself, and swayed. "I—I don't think my oxygen is as full as yours. This excitement had me double-breathing and I feel sick." "Hold tight, hell, let's move. We've got to find where those animals came from! And the only way to do that is to get the animals to come back!" "Come back? How?" "They're waiting, just outside the aura of our thoughts, and if we believe in them again, they'll return." Marnagan didn't like it. "Won't—won't they kill us—if they come—if we believe in 'em?" certain point . Psychologically they can both be seen and felt. We only want to we, now?" "With twenty minutes left, maybe less—" "All right, Click, let's bring 'em back. How do we do it?" Hathaway fought against the mist in his eyes. "Just think—I will see the monsters again. I will see them again and I will not feel them. Think it over and over." Marnagan's hulk stirred uneasily. "And—what if I forget to remember all that? What if I get excited...?" A soundless deluge of them, pouring over the rubbled horizon, swarming in malevolent anticipation about the two men. "Marnagan! Get a grip, dammit! It's not real—don't let it force into your mind! It's not real, I tell you!" you forget the monsters. Let me handle them, I know how. They might fool you again, you might forget." Evidently the telepathic source lay there. They approached it warily. "We'll be taking our chances on guard," hissed Irish. "I'll go ahead, draw their attention, maybe get captured. Then, you show up with "I haven't got one." "We'll chance it, then. You stick here until I see what's ahead. They probably got scanners out. Let them see me—" How'd you get past the animals?" and listening to Marnagan's lying voice: "I tied them pink elephants of Gunther's in neat alphabetical bundles let himself down in, quiet and soft. He didn't have a weapon. He didn't have a weapon. Oh, damn, damn! acting." time! Double!" tersely. They found themselves in a complete inner world intricate, glittering machine, through which strips of colored film into thought-emanations. A damned neat piece of genius. "So here we are, still not much better off than we were," growled Marnagan exhaled disgustedly. "Ah, if only the U.S. Cavalry would come riding over the hill—"

<question>:
How would you describe the pace of the characters, and why?

<options>:
A Quickly. The characters were under a time constraint, depleting air, and were encountering additional threats that made them move with haste.
B At a sprint. The characters were so scared that they were rushing decisions and they weren't thinking logically.
C Average. Though the characters were concerned for their survival, they were taking things at a normal pace because they thought they could be rescued.
D Slowly. The characters didn't want to endanger themselves further in the situation so they tried to think everything through fully.

<answer>:

A