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

<passage>:
SPACEMAN ON A SPREE BY MACK REYNOLDS Illustrated by Nodel of space, or one spaceman's life? I nor the significance of Seymour Pond's retirement. Si didn't bother to The fact of the matter was, Si knew that his retiring had set them But Space Pilot Seymour Pond didn't have their standards. He'd had plenty of time to think it over. It was better to retire on a limited crediting, on a confoundedly limited crediting, than to take the two or three more trips in hopes of attaining a higher standard. He'd had plenty of time to figure it out, there alone in space on the Moon run, there on the Venus or Mars runs. There on the long, long haul to the Jupiter satellites, fearfully checking the symptoms of space cafard, the madness compounded of claustrophobia, monotony, boredom and free fall. Plenty of time. Time to decide that a one room mini-auto-apartment, complete with an autochair and built-in autobar, and with one wall a teevee screen, was all he needed to No. Even as Si listened to their speeches, accepted the watch and been trained. There aren't two men on North America—there aren't two men in the world!—who better realize the urgency of continuing our dossier revealed him a possible candidate for space pilot, and it was you yourself who talked him into taking the training ... pointing out the more pragmatic advantages such as complete retirement after but six trips, added shares of Basic so that he could enjoy a more comfortable life than most and the fame that would accrue to him as one of the very few who still participate in travel to the planets. Very well. He was sold. Took his training, which, of course, required long years of drudgery to him. Then, performing his duties quite competently, he made his six trips. He is now legally eligible for retirement. He was drafted into the working force reserves, served his time, and is now free from toil for the balance of his life. Why should he listen to our pleas for a few more trips?" "But has he no spirit of adventure? Has he no feeling for...." take months, possibly more than a year, to bring another novitiate pilot to the point where he can safely be trusted to take our next explorer craft out. Appropriations for our expeditions have been increasingly hard to come by—even though in our hold of us. If it is admitted that our organization has degenerated to the point that we haven't a single pilot, then it might well be birth and buying a chicken farm or some such? All the long months at sea—and sometimes the tramp freighters or whaling craft would be out for years at a stretch before returning to home port—he would talk one short drink with the boys, before taking his accumulated pay and of twenty-five and was registered for the labor draft, there hadn't been a chance in a hundred that he'd have the bad luck to have his taken the training with him, and only he and Rod Cameroon had passed take-off on what should have been a routine Moon run. Each time Si returned from one of his own runs, he celebrated. A spree, Now it was all over. At the age of thirty he was retired. Law prevented working hours in the day, and the number of working days in the week. It finally became ludicrous when employees of industry were working but two days a week, two hours a day. In fact, it got chaotic. It became obvious that it was more practical to have one worker putting in thirty-five hours a week and getting to know his job well, than it was to have a score of employees, each working a few hours a week and none of them ever really becoming efficient. reasonable number of hours a day, a reasonable number of weeks a year and a reasonable number of years in a life time. When new employees were needed, a draft lottery was held. vacuum-tube vehicle and twice the amount of shares of Basic that most of his fellow citizens could boast. Si Pond had it made. A spree was was burning a hole in his pocket, as the expression went. However, he wasn't going to rush into things. This had to be done correctly. Too many a spree was played by ear. You started off with a few drinks, fell in with some second rate mopsy and usually wound up in a third rate groggery where you spent just as much as though you'd been in the all the dollars that had been spent but a rum-head. Thus, Si was vaguely aware, it had always been down through the centuries since the Phoenecian sailor, back from his year-long trip to the tin mines of Cornwall, blew his hard earned share of the voyage's quite so little for his money as that loneliest of all workers, he who must leave his home for distant lands, returning only periodically and usually with the salary of lengthy, weary periods of time to be spent hurriedly in an attempt to achieve the pleasure and happiness so long denied him. thousand, two hundred and thirty-three dollars and sixty-two cents apiece. Current cash credit, one thousand and eighty-four dollars." The screen went dead. One thousand and eighty-four dollars. That was plenty. He could safely spend as much as half of it, if the spree got as lively as he hoped it would. His monthly dividends were due in another week or so, and he two-seater, and wedged himself into the small vehicle. He brought down the canopy, dropped the pressurizer and considered the dial. Only one place really made sense. The big city. shot, and Si took the involuntary breath from which only heroes could sub-shots. Finally, the dash threw a green light and Si opened the A voice said gently, "If the quarters are satisfactory, please present your credit card within ten minutes." Si took his time. Not that he really needed it. It was by far the most He didn't take the time to flick on the menu, next to the auto-dining table, nor to check the endless potables on the autobar list. All that, he well knew, would be superlative. Besides, he didn't plan to dine dime a dozen. He left the suite and stepped into one of the elevators. He said, At the door to the famous rendezvous of the swankiest set, Si paused a Si cleared his throat. "Hey," he said, "how about letting this one be Si, disconcerted by the sudden reversal, said, "Yeah ... sure." "Sure." He pointed at the lapel pin. "You can't wear one unless you been on at least a Moon run." She was obviously both taken back and impressed. "Why," she said, "I been called Si so long, I don't even know who somebody's talking to Si was expansive. "Why, sure. In the Space Department we don't have much time for formality. Everybody's just Si, and Doc, and Jim. Like your space-pilot uniform, the veteran of six exploration runs to the planets...." "Well," Si said modestly, "two of my runs were only to the Moon." "... and he said all those things about man's conquest of space. And the dream of the stars which man has held so long. And then the fact world trained to pilot a space craft. And here you were, retiring." Si grunted. "Yeah. That's all part of the Doc's scheme to get me to take on another three runs. They're afraid the whole department'll be dropped by the Appropriations Committee on this here Economic Planning Board. Even if they can find some other patsy to train for the job, it'd take maybe a year before you could even send him on a Moon hop. So old man Gubelin, and Girard-Perregaux too, they're both trying to pressure me into more trips. Otherwise they got a Space Exploration Department, with all the expense and all, but nobody to pilot their ships. It's kind of funny, in a way. You know what one of those spaceships costs?" in space any more. In fact, most people are almost contemptuous, like. Think it's kind of a big boondoggle deal to help use up a lot of

<question>:
After being drafted into the working force reserves, how many trips did Si have to complete in order to retire?

<options>:
A 1 trip
B 6 trips
C 5 trips
D 15 trips

<answer>:

B