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

<passage>:
in each 'copter, stone-faced, staring grimly alert at the prison below. They were ready for the breakout. was one of the many talents bred here! I its inmates as the Jug—and if he hadn't been able to detect the scent And her name, he saw, was Sue-Ann Bradley, Detainee No. WFA-656R. He frowned at the rap sheet, trying to figure out what got a girl like her into a place like this. And, what was more important, why she from the Jug's going to start a fight like you never saw and we'll be couldn't adjust herself to it, now that she was in. He was partly right. He would be right in the middle of it—for every man, woman and child in the city-state would be right in the middle of it. There was no place anywhere that would be spared. guard, Sodaro, growled warningly: "Watch it, auntie!" That : "Detainees will be permitted to speak in their own behalf in disciplinary proceedings." And O'Leary was a man who lived by the book. She burst out: "I never got a chance! That old witch Mathias never told But the declassed cons of the Jug were the dregs of every class was the prescription that kept the city-state alive. There's no harm in and once they spread, the neat compartmentation of society was pierced. The to do. Cap'n, you know what's funny about this? This Bradley is—" attractive and young—not beyond hope, surely. Maybe she had got off to a wrong start, but the question was, would putting her in the disciplinary block help straighten her out? He rubbed his ear and looked past her at the line of prisoners on the rap detail, waiting for him to judge their cases. He said patiently: "Bradley, the rules are you have to mop out your and she claimed the same business—said she didn't understand when the other one asked her to move along." He added virtuously: "The guard warned her then that next time she'd get the Greensleeves for sure." Inmate Bradley seemed to be on the verge of tears. She said tautly: "I O'Leary stopped her. "That's enough! Three days in Block O!" It was the only thing to do—for her own sake as much as for his. He had managed, by strength of will, not to hear that she had omitted to say "sir" every time she spoke to him, but he couldn't keep it up forever and he certainly couldn't overlook hysteria. And hysteria was clearly the next step for her. business? He checked out of the cell blocks and walked across the yard, wondering about her. She'd had every advantage—decent Civil Service parents, a good education, everything a girl could wish for. If anything, she had had a better environment than O'Leary himself, and look what she had made of it. The direction of evolution is toward specialization and Man is no exception, but with the difference that his is the one species that creates its own environment in which to specialize. From the moment that clans formed, specialization began—the hunters using the weapons made by the flint-chippers, the food cooked in clay pots made by the ceramists, over fire made by the shaman who guarded the sacred flame. Civilization merely increased the extent of specialization. From the born mechanic and the man with the gift of gab, society evolved to the point of smaller contact and less communication between the specializations, until now they could understand each other on only the most basic physical necessities—and not even always then. But this was desirable, for the more specialists, the higher the degree of civilization. The ultimate should be the complete segregation of each specialization—social and genetic measures to make them breed true, because the unspecialized man is an uncivilized man, would be good at no specialization. And the basis of this specialization society was: "The aptitude groups are the true races of mankind." Putting it into law was only the legal enforcement of a demonstrable fact. right that he should be proud of it. He was civil-service born and bred, and naturally he was proud and content to but they had a—well, a sort of natural, relaxed joy of living. O'Leary was a broad-minded man and many times he had thought almost with a touch of envy how No responsibilities. No worries. Just an easy, slow routine of work and loaf, work and loaf. Of course, he wouldn't really want that kind of life, because he was He nodded to the mechanic inmate who was, theoretically, in charge of the prison jeep. Lazy, sure. Undependable, certainly. But he kept the certainly would never risk coming back to the Jug by trying to pass as Civil Service or anything else. He knew his place. So why didn't this girl, this Sue-Ann Bradley, know hers? II its own, an enclave within the larger city-state that was the Jug. And like any other community, it had its leading citizens ... two of them. Their names were Sauer and Flock. Sue-Ann Bradley heard them before she reached the Greensleeves. She was in a detachment of three unfortunates like herself, convoyed by an irritable guard, climbing the steel steps toward Block O from the floor guard. The outside guard looked impassively back—after all, he was on The outside guard shrugged. "Let them in," the inside guard told him. "The others are riled up attention. The outside guard pulled the switch that turned on the the time—only when the cell doors had to be opened or a prisoner's restraining garment removed. Sue-Ann walked bravely forward through the opened gate—and fell flat passed them by and she was fighting off an almost uncontrollable urge to retch. five-footer with the build of a water moccasin—and the sad, stupid The inside guard finished putting the new prisoners away and turned off "Uh-uh." The outside guard shook his head. grinned at the guard, all but his water-moccasin eyes. "Don't you know !" yelled the inside guard. human , she told herself miserably, trying to weep silently so as not to give the guards the satisfaction of hearing her—they were animals! Resentment and anger, she could understand. She told herself doggedly that resentment and anger were natural and right. They were perfectly normal expressions of the freedom-loving citizen's rebellion against the vile and stifling system of Categoried Classes. It was good that system— But did they have to scream so? The senseless yelling was driving her crazy. She abandoned herself to because noise hides noise. But then she hadn't been a prisoner very long. the Jug, but privately he was a fussy old man trying to hold onto the But today she put a woman named Bradley on report. Why? Because she told Bradley to mop up in wipe talk and Bradley didn't understand. Now job is just as important as everybody else's, right? But we have to stick to our own jobs. We don't want to try to pass Because five minutes before, he was in his cell, with the rest of the He was still yelling. Sue-Ann Bradley, in the cell across from him, Bradley was a little slow getting off the edge of the steel-slat proudly ignored him as he slogged deliberately away on his rounds. He didn't have to untie her and practically stand over her while she attended to various personal matters, as he did with the male prisoners. It was not much to be grateful for, but Sue-Ann Bradley was grateful. At least she didn't have to live quite like a fig—like an underprivileged clerk, she told herself, conscience-stricken. Across the hall, the guard was saying irritably: "What the hell's nineteen million persons that lived within a few dozen miles of the Jug. but in the Jug, all classes were cast together. trouble in the wipe quarters. The Jug! The governor himself had called

<question>:
Why was Bradley in the Jug?

<options>:
A she didn't understand the people she was supposed to be working with
B she wanted to be part of the Civil Service group instead of the laborer group
C she caused a fight in the lunch room
D she believed people should be able to choose their path in life

<answer>:

D