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

<passage>:
But his attention was diverted by a gleam from one of the benches. Nebula McCray found an ally—and a foe! Out in the great gas cloud of the Orion In fact, they were. He could recognize barrel, chamber, trigger, even beside them. It was an older, clumsier model than the kind he had seen from Earth to the thriving colonies circling Betelgeuse Nine. McCray angles from the computer sights, automatically locked on their beacon stars, and found them correct Hatcher's second in command said: "He has got through the first survival test. In fact, he broke his way out! What next?" "Wait!" Hatcher ordered sharply. He was watching the new specimen and a troublesome thought had occurred to him. The new one was female and seemed to be in pain but it was not the pain that disturbed Hatcher, "I know," Hatcher said, "but watch. Do you see? He is going straight toward her." Hatcher, who was not human, did not possess truly human emotions but from a warm, bright navigator's cubicle on much better than any of his helpers. They could only be surprised at Hatcher knew that this was not a freak show, but a matter of life and "This new one, I cannot communicate with her, but I get—almost—a whisper, now and then. The first one, the male, nothing. But this female is perhaps not quite mute." Hatcher hesitated. "No," he said at last. "The male is responding well. Remember that when last this experiment was done every subject died he is alive at least. But I am wondering. We can't quite communicate with the female—" "But?" "But I'm not sure that others can't." a useful RDF set. He located her direction easily enough, shielding the suit? It was slightly reassuring, McCray thought, to find that most of hadn't been even a shadowy outline of the three-sided, uneven opening But they seemed to have none. They were "neutral"—the color of aged It was a woman, all right. The voice had been so strained that he hadn't been positive. Even now, short black hair might not have proved it, and she was lying face down but the waist and hips were a woman's, apparently in her late thirties. She appeared to be Chinese. She breathed, a little raggedly but without visible discomfort her nothing more on his mind than completing his check-sighting and meeting . He could, of course, be dead. All this could be the fantasies of a McCray grinned into the pink-lit darkness. The thought had somehow For before the light had gone, McCray had seen what had escaped his eyes before. The suit and the microphone were clear enough in the pinkish glimmer McCray could not see any part of his own body at all. Someone was watching Herrell McCray, with the clinical fascination of a biochemist observing the wigglings of paramecia in a new antibiotic—and with the prayerful emotions of a starving, shipwrecked, sailor, watching the inward bobbing drift of a wave-born cask that may contain food. Suppose you call him "Hatcher" (and suppose you call it a "him.") Hatcher was not exactly male, because his race had no true males but it did have females and he was certainly not that. Hatcher did not in any way look like a human being, but they had features in common. If Hatcher and McCray had somehow managed to strike up an acquaintance, they might have got along very well. Hatcher, like McCray, was an description. Both held positions of some importance—considering their ages—in the affairs of their respective worlds. Physically they were nothing alike. Hatcher was a three-foot, hard-shelled sphere of jelly. He had "arms" and "legs," but they were not organically attached to "himself." They were snakelike things which Hatcher's principal task at this moment was to run the "probe team" which had McCray under observation, and he was more than a little the members of the other team workers were in a The probe team had had a shock. "Paranormal powers," muttered Hatcher's second in command, and the others mumbled agreement. Hatcher ordered silence, studying the specimen from Earth. After a long moment he turned his senses from the Earthman. "Incredible—but it's true enough," he said. "I'd better report. Watch and even more, not one of them could have looked away to save his life from the spectacle of a creature as odd and, from their point of view, hideously alien as Herrell McCray. Hatcher hurried through the halls of the great buried structure in Hatcher identified himself and gave a quick, concise report: to see and so we illuminated his field of vision for him. about communicating with him, Hatcher? Any progress?" The council conferred among itself for a moment, Hatcher waiting. It the probe-team room, he was in fairly close touch with what was going "Stop fidgeting," commanded the council leader abruptly. "Hatcher, you "But, sir...." Hatcher swung closer, his thick skin quivering slightly creature is in no way similar to us, you know. He relies on paranormal forces—heat, light, kinetic energy—for his life. His chemistry is not ours, his processes of thought are not ours, his entire organism is closer to the inanimate rocks of a sea-bottom than to ourselves." Hatcher. Yours is not the only probe team working. The Central Masses "Have they secured a subject?" Hatcher demanded jealously. The councillor paused. "Worse than that, Hatcher. I am afraid their There was a moment's silence. Frozen, Hatcher could only wait. The again, each council member poised over his locus-point, his members Hatcher returned to his laboratory gloomily. Hatcher did not like the idea of endangering the Earthman. It cannot communication. Not even Hatcher had quite got over the revolting Hatcher did not want him destroyed. It had been difficult enough Hatcher checked through the members that he had left with the rest of entirely pleasant to Earthmen. A slit in the lower hemisphere of his Hatcher caught and poured into a disposal trough at the side of the reported—nothing new—and asked about Hatcher's appearance before the council. Hatcher passed the question off. He considered telling his But it seemed that the Probe Teams themselves might be betraying their "Hatcher!" second in command, very excited. "What is it?" Hatcher demanded. Hatcher was patient they dodged back to their niches on his skin, fitted just taken.... "Now!" cried the assistant. "Look!" At what passed among Hatcher's people for a viewing console an image Hatcher was startled. "Another one! And—is it a different species? Or merely a different sex?" "Study the probe for yourself," the assistant invited. Hatcher studied him frostily "Killing him, Hatcher?" Hatcher rose and shook himself, his mindless members floating away like Light. White, flaring, Earthly light, that showed everything—even amazement in its tone, "McCray, is that you? Where the devil are you is Herrell McCray," he cried. "I'm in a room of some sort, apparently "McCray!" cried the tiny voice in his ear. "Where are you? This is than light in its voyage between stars, made its regular position check, common sense was a liar. Light bore false witness. The line of sight was trustworthy directly forward and directly after—sometimes instruments, to comprehend a star bearing and convert three fixes into McCray thumbed down the transmitter button and gave a concise report The room was again unlighted—at least to McCray's eyes. There was not benches and McCray, staring, thought briefly of many-armed blind giants or shapeless huge intelligent amoebae, and felt the skin prickle at the back of his neck.

<question>:
What is the image Hatcher’s team sees on the viewing consul?

<options>:
A A human female
B Hatcher’s specimen
C The Jordell Bank
D A human male

<answer>:

A