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

<passage>:
"Of course," I said, and added absurdly, "That's why I don't wash." only in Centurian humanoids, not Earth-norm human beings. Doc had this solemn human by the throat when I caught up with him. "Tonight," Doc was saying in his old voice that was as crackled and Which are Nothing came out of my gabbling mouth. " What is Doc's full name? " I almost fell in, but at the last instant I caught myself and said, "Sure," the man agreed severely, prying a little worriedly at Doc's From the bed, Doc said a word. "Son." "He didn't use that," Andre said. So I was an Earthman, Doc's son. So my addiction to coffee was all in It was easier this night and that made me afraid. Doc's thin frame, my mind. That didn't change anything. They say sex is all in your mind. I didn't want to be cured. I wouldn't be. Doc was gone. That was all I wanted for the murder of a North American Mountie. in Seattle hadn't helped me get them loose, Doc and I would have been "He's my father and very old, as you can see." I laughed inside at the absurd, easy lie. "Old events seem recent to him." "The rest is simple," Andre said. "Doc O'Malley bought up all the stock "'Memory Jump,' you mean. All my great-grandfathers have it. But I told the human no, thanks, and walked Doc toward the flophouse three if we didn't. Doc was liable to say something that might nova Sol, for all I knew. Martians approaching the corner were sensing at Doc and me. They were just cheap tourists slumming down on Skid Row. I hated tourists "Exactly, Kevin, exactly. They have never existed any more than your Martians. They were aliens . They weren't men like Doc and me. Then I realized what was about to happen. It was foolish and awful and true. I was going to have one of mine at the same time Doc was having the human race can tell itself how to achieve a state of pure logic, without food, without sex, without conflict—just as Doc has achieved of ESP, telepathy, telekinesis, precognition. Through these books, back into time and created them. And that unconscious mind, deeper than I knew I could not let Doc's—Dad's—time travel thing fall into before Doc's genes and creative environment were recreated and time before I could move, what with holding up Doc. I let go of him. He didn't scare me, but Doc was beginning to mumble singing on the left, a wino praying on the right, and the door didn't have any lock on it. At last, Doc and I were alone. I laid Doc out on the gray-brown cot and put his forearm over his face gas tank to get rid of Doc's and my cooties. Lucky that I never needed jagged cut-out nude curled against a lump of dust and lint, giving it an unreal distortion. Doc began to mumble louder. concentrated on Doc's voice and trusted my hands would follow their ... Thoth ... Two boxes ... His voice rose to a meaningless wail that stretched into non-existence. That wasn't just an addict's dream. I knew who Doc was. When I got to thinking it was just a dream and that I was dragging this old man around North America for nothing, I remembered who he was. I remembered that he was somebody very important whose name and work I had once known, even if now I knew him only as Doc. Doc alone, but I had to. Doc was twisting on the cot, tears washing white streaks across his face. I shoved Doc's face up against my chest. I held onto him and let Necronomican itself on human beings?" "But they don't exist," I said wearily. Victorian detective friend. But the unconscious racial mind has reached , of course, not an alien like a Martian. Earthmen ran the whole Solar Federation, but I was just as good as an glass of milk. I didn't want to black out on coffee with Doc waiting "That's the first time you've called me anything but 'ma'am'," she said. "I'm not an old-maid schoolteacher, you know." Last Name. Then there was something in her voice.... "What do you think of this?" Doc sat on the floor in the half-darkness and he had made a Doc had ever made anything. It didn't look like much, but it was a I knelt beside Doc. "An order, my boy, an order," he whispered. "Concentrate," Doc said hoarsely. "Concentrate...." The words "First Edition" were what I was thinking about most. The heavy-set man in the ornate armchair was saying, "The bullet struck familiar with Earth history and I recognized the period immediately. Then I realized what I had been trying to get from Doc all these months—time travel. A thin, sickly man was sprawled in the other chair in a rumpled The heavier man was half choking, half laughing. "I say—I say, I would illness and is suffering a more serious addiction to tell me the place and time from which he comes." The surprise stung. "How did you know?" I asked. say super-scientific, of a science not of my or the good doctor's time, clearly. Time travel is a familiar folk legend and I have been reading an article by the entertaining Mr. Wells. Perhaps he will expand it into one of his novels of scientific romance." I knew who these two men were, with a tormenting doubt. "But the other—" He was so smug and so sure, this snowbird. I hated him. Because I couldn't trust to my own senses as he did. "You don't exist," I said slowly, painfully. "You are fictional creations." The doctor flushed darkly. "You give my literary agent too much credit would tell us something of his age with special reference to the theory and practice of temporal transference, Doctor, we would be better equipped to judge whether we exist." There was no theory or practice of time travel. I told them all I had ever heard theorized from Hindu yoga through Extra-sensory Perception to Relativity and the positron and negatron. Perception' have altered the past to make it as they suppose it to be. The great historical figures are made the larger than life-size that we know them. The great literary creations assume reality." I thought of Cleopatra and Helen of Troy and wondered if they would be the goddesses of love that people imagined or the scrawny, big-nosed After a time, I asked the doctor a question. Doc was lying on the cot, half his face twisted into horror. had known too much in too short a time. I had to help Doc, but there I had to help Doc. I had to have some coffee. "What do you want?" "Listen, Kevin. Listen carefully to what I am saying. Doc found his crusades. How can you make money with time travel?" I didn't know whether she was asking me, but I didn't know. All I knew was that I had to help Doc and get some coffee. "It takes money—money Doc didn't have—to make money," Miss Casey prosper. Besides, horse-racing and the stock market weren't a part of Doc's character. He was a scholar." Why did she keep using the past tense in reference to Doc? It scared did not exist ." should serve as a point of reference." I had always wondered how a thing like a Martian could talk. Sometimes I wondered if they really could. "They always do," I told him. "They ceased to exist—as human beings—shortly after they received a book from Doc," the Martian said. Something seemed to strike me in the back of the neck. I staggered, but

<question>:
Why is it ironic that the narrator calls Doc his dad in the beginning?

<options>:
A Doc is actually his dad, he only thinks it's a lie
B His own dad is just as violent, so it's a fair comparison
C He only met the Doc a few days ago and they don't know each other well enough to be family
D Doc and the narrator are not actually from the same planet, and can't be related

<answer>:

A