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

<passage>:
SEA LEGS at all. Maybe you could go with me to have dinner. It must be almost dinnertime now. You could sort of check me out on some...." "I'm afraid that would be quite impossible. You couldn't gain Rootless and footloose, a man in space can't help but dream of coming home. But something nobody should do is bet on the validity of a homesick dream! admittance to any office you need to visit tonight. Therefore, it is Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that "You said that already, but you can have dinner with me. Just company." "I'm afraid I don't understand." The Galactic hotel strove to preserve an archaic tone of hospitality. the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] "Certainly you are not, Mr. Craig. But it is not possible for me...." It advertised "a night's lodgings" and it possessed a bellboy. The can't get on without one." Craig hesitated before moving. "Sure, they don't put in screens here. Wanted to, but the boss convinced 'em there aren't any Freedomites ever stay here." how long it would take him to shake his—sea legs, the psychologist there, looking like new, its space-blue unfaded and as wonderfully pliant as before. "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?" conditions. Channels of the ear, for example. They play an important part in our awareness of balance. They operate on a simple gravity principle. Without gravity they act up for a time, then gradually lose function. Returning to gravity is rather frightening at first." "Do you know what sailors of ancient times meant by 'sea legs?'" asked Wyandotte. "Men on a rolling ocean acclimated themselves to a rolling frightening thing to an old sailor—but let's begin our little job at 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 felt the pull of the incredible star-tides imparted by twin and even 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 there, that you are willing to give up space service for it." "We've gone through this time and time again," Craig said wearily. "I gave you my reasons for quitting space. We analyzed them. You agreed 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." "So I'll transfer. I don't know what you're trying to get at, Captain, but you're not talking me out of going back. If the service needs men so badly, let them get somebody else. I've put in my time." begged to be allowed to withdraw their resignations. "The twelfth day is the worst," a grizzled spaceman told Craig. "That's when the best of 'em want out." Craig clenched the iron rung of his bed and struggled to bring the old man's face into focus. between waves of nausea. "Haven't noticed much of anything." "Well, it's keyed to give them some kind of signal." "They tried that a few times—once when I was aboard. You wouldn't like it, kid. You wouldn't like it at all." "How ... many times ... do they drop it?" "... pretty bad." "He'll go into shock." "... never make it the twelfth." "We better yank him." single source of pull. They were now ready to become inhabitants of planets again, instead of free-falling ships. On the eighteenth day, automatic machinery freed them from their "What will they do, exile him?" "Not to Chociante, if that's what you mean. They just jerked his space "It's a good job. There's a future to it." "Yeah." Why did he have to explain anything at all to the old space tramp? "Once I get set up, I'll probably try to open my own business." "And spend your weekends on Luna." land-lubber." Craig relaxed, realizing he had acted childishly. "Used to think the The old man's face clouded for an instant. "In the old days, they used to say us old-timers acted like clocks. They used to say we just ran down. Now they got some fancy psychology name for it." Craig regretted his question. He would have muttered some word of "Maybe you've read some of the old sea stories, or more'n likely had 'em read to you. Sailors could go to sea until they just sort of dried up. The sea tanned their skins and stiffened their bones, but it never stiffened their hearts. When they got old, it just pulled them in. "But space is different. Space is raw and new. It tugs at your guts. It sends the blood rushing through your veins. It's like loving. You don't become a part of space the way you do the old sea, though. It leaves you strictly alone. Except that it sucks you dry, takes all the soup out of you, leaves you brittle and old—old as a dehydrated piece of split leather. " " You got to watch the ones that don't. " " Yeah, you got to watch the ones that don't. Especially the old ones. " " " " Who knows? " " They'll dump him, won't they? " " After a tracer is sent through. But it won't do any good. " " He probably outlived everybody that ever knew him. " " It was the signal for relief in the passengers' quarters aft door." I won't bother you with. Anyway, I left her. Wanted to take her along with me, but she wouldn't go. Earth was a lot different then than it is now. They don't have to tell me I know. I saw it coming and so did Ethel. We talked about it and I knew I had to go. She wouldn't or couldn't go. Wanted me to stay, but I couldn't. I tried to send her some units once in a while. Don't know if she ever got them. Sometimes I forgot to send them at all. You know, you're way out across the Galaxy, while she's home. something big and new and green.... Hell, you remember. You know how to tell her. Her name is Ethel Brockman. I know she'll still use my name. Her address is or was East 71, North 101, Number 4. You can trace her easy if she moved. Women don't generally shove off and not leave a forwarding address. Not Ethel, at least. husband deserted her fifty years before? Some kind of story about one's duty to the Universe? No, the old man had not been in Intergalactic. He had been a tramp spaceman. Well, why to a companion at his right. screened me? What for?" "Hard to say," the other passenger said. "You'll get used to this. They "Thought you could give me some idea of conditions...." "Conditions?" "For instance, what part of the city I should live in. That is, what part is closest to where I'll work." "I see," said the man noncommittally. It seemed to Craig that he was about to add something. He did not, however, but instead rose from his with unfolding the legs of a small instrument she was carrying. much the same way we would an extraterrestrial."

<question>:
The first paragraph in the passage foreshadows which theme of "Sea Legs"?

<options>:
A Society tends to neglect those who have served
B If you don't like it, you can always leave
C The grass is always greener on the other side
D People shouldn't count on places to stay the same

<answer>:

D