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

<passage>:
the new answer from the Brain. It reached a certain length, then was automatically sheared overrode his erstwhile genial features. I had a horrible suspicion. "Not again?" I said softly. Jery Delvin had a most unusual talent. He could detect the flaws in greatest mystery, Jery assumed that it was because of his mental agility. But when he got to Mars to find out why fifteen boys had vanished from a spaceship in mid-space, he found out that even his quick mind needed time to pierce the maze of out-of-this-world double-dealing. For Jery end of the whole puzzle of THE SECRET MARTIANS—with Jery as the first to go! "sublimating my urge to write things for cash," Jack moved to New York, determined to make a career of full-time fiction-writing. Oddly enough, it worked out, and he now does nothing else. He says, "I'd like to say I do this for fulfillment, or for cash, or because it's my destiny however, the real reason (same as that expressed by Jean Kerr) is that this kind of stay-at-home self-employment lets me sleep late in the morning." 1 It was only a fraction of an instant between the time I saw them and the time they spoke to me, but in that miniscule interval I managed to retrace quite a bit of my lifetime up till that moment, seeking of the government. I couldn't find anything really incriminating, unless maybe it was that hair dye that unexpectedly turned bright green after six weeks in the hair, but that was the lab's fault, not mine. So I managed a weak smile toward the duo, and tried not to sweat too profusely. "Jery Delvin?" said the one on my left, a note of no-funny-business in "Mr. Delvin," she said, her voice a wispy croak. "When will you be " W-Will I be back?" I asked desperately, as we waited for the elevator. "At all? Am I under arrest? What's up, anyhow?" "You will be informed," said the man again. I had to let it go at that. There was nothing for me to do but sweat it out and to try and enjoy the ride, wherever we were going. " are Jery Delvin?" President in power, and not even that in matters of security. I managed to nod. He shook his white-maned head, slowly. "I don't believe it." always reacts to an obvious cliche. Then, with something like a look of relief on his blunt face, he "Jery Delvin," he read, musingly and dispassionately. "Five foot eleven they stop the watch. If I get it in five seconds, it passes. But if I spot it in less, they throw it out and start over again. Or is that clear? No, I guess you're still confused, sir." fool the average consumer indefinitely." I sat back, feeling much better. "That's right, sir." to stay out of my office when I'm working, or I can't function." "You have my sympathy, son," Baxter said, not unkindly. "Thank you, sir. It hasn't been easy." "No, I don't imagine it has...." Baxter was staring into some far-off distance. Then he remembered himself and blinked back to the present. "When the current emergency arose and all our usual methods failed, we had to submit the problem to the Brain." smile was still on his lips, but there was a grimness in the glitter of his narrowing eyes. fist down on the desktop. "No one has an explanation! All we know is that the Brain always picks the right man." He stared at me as though I'd just fallen in from the ceiling or somewhere. "Huh? Oh, yes, Delvin, isn't it? Sorry, I got carried away. Where was I?" apoplexy. I swallowed, and tried to look relaxed. After a moment, he found his voice. "To go on, Delvin. Do you recall "Because it's not true, Delvin," he said. His voice was suddenly old and tired, and very much in keeping with his snowy hair. "You see, the Space Scouts have vanished." "Forgeries, Fakes. Counterfeits." 's, misuse of tenses, deliberate misspellings. They take it out of an adult, especially an adult with a mind keen enough to get him into Interplanetary Security. We've limited the shifts to four hours per man per day. Otherwise, they'd all be gibbering by now!" "And your men haven't found out anything?" I marvelled. Baxter shook his head. "And you finally had to resort to the Brain, and it gave you my name, "You got me!" I shrugged hopelessly. "However, since we have nothing else to go on but the locale from which the children vanished, my suggestion would be to send you there." Phobos II . The one they were returning to Earth in when they disappeared." "They disappeared from a spaceship? While in space?" Baxter nodded. into nothingness, along with a good-sized swath of carpeting and six inches of concrete floor. His parting injunction had been. "Be careful, Delvin, huh?" Yes, parting. I was on my own. After all, with a Security disc—the Amnesty, they called it—such as I possessed, and a collapser, I could Phobos II . At the moment, I was the most influential human being in the known universe. And well they might be. An Amnesty-bearer can suddenly decide a subject is not answering questions to his satisfaction and simply blast the annoying party to atoms. It makes for straight responses. Of course, "Thank you, sir," he said, not actually loosening much in his rigid position, but his face looking happier. "See, I was supposed to pilot the kids back here from Mars when their trip was done, and—" He gave Anders nodded sorrowfully. "Not a trace of 'em, sir. Just some of their junk left in their storage lockers." suddenly deprived of." Anders, after a puzzled frown, obediently threw open the doors of Earth is calculated with regard to the mass on board, is that correct?" He nodded. "Good, that clears up an important point. I'd also like to know if this rocket has a dehumidifying system to keep the cast-off moisture from the passengers out of the air?" "Have you checked the storage tanks?" I asked. "Or is the cast-off perspiration simply jetted into space?" "No. It's saved, sir. It gets distilled and stored for washing and drinking. Otherwise, we'd all dehydrate, with no water to replace the water we lost." "It's the Amnesty that does it," he said, gesturing toward the disc. It lay on his desk, now, along with the collapser. I felt, with the new information I'd garnered, that my work was done, and that the new data fed into the Brain would produce some other results, not involving me. Baxter smiled. "No chance of that, Jery. We didn't leave it up to any would have put us right back where we'd been before. No, we left it up to the Brain. We'd find ourselves in a tight situation, and the Brain I stared at him. "Then, when I was here before, I was here solely to receive the Amnesty, is that it?" your mentioning such a contingency gives me a small migraine. It'd be unprecedented in the history of the Brain or the Amnesty." He grinned, suddenly. "Besides, it can't happen. There's only one of these—" he tapped the medallion gently "—in existence, Jery. So we couldn't have the thing was out of my hands. Baxter had the information I'd come up with, and it had been coded and fed to the Brain. As soon as the solution came through, I could be on my way back to the world of hard and soft sell.

<question>:
What will happen next to Jery?

<options>:
A he will be well-known for finding the Space Scouts
B he will help to improve the Brain
C he will continue to help Baxter
D he will be able to go back to his normal life

<answer>:

C