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

<passage>:
One can't be too cautious about the people one meets in Tangier. They're all weirdies of one kind or another. Me? Oh, I'm A Stranger Here Myself By MACK REYNOLDS California-like resort to the Baghdad of Harun al-Rashid. It's quite a town, Tangier. King-size sidewalk cafes occupy three of the strategic paper's read, sip your expresso and watch the people go by. Tangier is possibly the most cosmopolitan city in the world. In native costume you'll see Berber and Rif, Arab and Blue Man, and occasionally a Senegalese from further south. In European dress you'll see Japs and Chinese, Hindus and Turks, Levantines and Filipinos, North Americans and South Americans, and, of course, even Europeans—from both sides of the Curtain. In Tangier you'll find some of the world's poorest and some of the richest. The poorest will try to sell you anything from a shoeshine to their not very lily-white bodies, and the richest will avoid your eyes, afraid you might try to sell them something. In spite of recent changes, the population includes smugglers and black-marketeers, fugitives from justice and international con men, espionage and counter-espionage agents, homosexuals, nymphomaniacs, alcoholics, drug addicts, displaced these. Like I said, it's quite a town. and said, "Hello, Paul. Anything new cooking?" He sank into the chair opposite me and looked around for the waiter. The tables were all crowded and since mine was a face he recognized, he assumed he was welcome to intrude. It was more or less standard procedure at the Cafe de Paris. It wasn't a place to go if you wanted to be alone. Paul said, "How are you, Rupert? Haven't seen you for donkey's years." The waiter came along and Paul ordered a glass of beer. Paul was an easy-going, sallow-faced little man. I vaguely remembered was from Liverpool and in exports. he said, disinterestedly. "Pogo and Albert are going to fight a duel," I told him, "and Lil Abner is becoming a rock'n'roll singer." He grunted. "Oh," I said, "the intellectual Paul said, "What ever happened saucers?" "What flying saucers?" A French girl went by with a Paris. Every pore in place. We both looked after her. "You know, what everybody was seeing a few years ago. It's satellites wasn't up then. Maybe they would've seen one." "That's an idea," I said. We didn't say anything else for a while and I began to wonder if I could go back to my paper without rubbing him the wrong way. I didn't know Paul very well, but, for that matter, it's comparatively seldom you ever get to know anybody very well in Tangier. Largely, cards are played close to the chest. My beer came and a plate of tapas for us both. Tapas at the Cafe de Paris are apt to be potato salad, a few anchovies, Just to say something, I said, "Where do you think they came from?" And when he looked blank, I added, "The Flying Saucers." He grinned. "From Mars or Venus, or someplace." "Ummmm," I said. "Too bad landed on the Yale football field and said Take me to your cheerleader , or something." Paul yawned and said, "That them. If they were aliens from space, then why not show themselves?" I ate one of the potato chips. It'd been cooked in rancid olive oil. I said, "Oh, there are various probably sit around here and think of two or three that made sense." Paul was mildly interested. say until you've developed space flight. Then you're invited into the club. Meanwhile, they send secret missions down from time to time to keep an eye on your progress." Paul grinned at me. "I see you read the same poxy stuff I do." A Moorish girl went by dressed in a neatly tailored gray provocative, dark eyes can be over a veil. We both looked after her. I said, "Or, here's another one. Suppose you have a very advanced civilization on, say, "Don't interrupt, please," I said with mock severity. "This is a very old civilization and as its water and air?" "I suppose so," he said. "Anyway, what about them?" "Well, they observe how man Paul said, "I got it. So they're scared and are keeping an eye on us. That's an old one. I've read different." I shifted my shoulders. "Well, it's one possibility." "I got a better one. How's this. There's this alien life form that's way ahead of us. Their civilization is so old that they don't have any records of when it began and how it was in the power or any of these things giving us a bad time here on Earth. They're all like scholars, get it? And some of them are pretty jolly well taken by Earth, don't know where we're going or how we're going to get there." I finished my beer and clapped my hands for Mouley. "How do you mean, and India and China, and Yugoslavia and Brazil, and all the it. Why, a man from Mars would be fascinated, like." Mouley came shuffling up in his babouche slippers and we both ordered another schooner of beer. Paul said seriously, "You in this sort of talk. I've sorted the whole thing out before, and you always come up against this brick wall. Where are they, these observers, or scholars, or spies or whatever they are? Sooner or later we'd nab one of them. You know, Scotland Yard, or the F.B.I., or Russia's secret police, or the French Sûreté, or Interpol. This world is so deep in police, counter-espionage outfits and security agents that an alien would slip up in time, no matter how much he'd been trained. Sooner or later, he'd slip up, and they'd nab him." I shook my head. "Not necessarily. The first time I ever considered York. Somewhere where he could use the libraries for research, get the daily newspapers and center of things. But now I don't think so. I think he'd be right here in Tangier." "Why Tangier?" "It's the one town in the world where anything goes. Nobody gives a damn about you or your affairs. For instance, I've known you a year or more now, and I haven't the slightest idea of how you make your living." "That's right," Paul admitted. "In this town you seldom even ask a man where's he's from. He can be British, a White Russian, a Basque or a Sikh and nobody from, Rupert?" "No, you're not," he grinned. I was taken aback. "What do you mean?" the F.B.I. possibly flushing an alien. Telepathy is a sense not trained by the humanoids. If these human bodies we're disguised in, neither of us is from, Rupert?" "Aldebaran," I said. "How about you?" "Deneb," he told me, shaking. We had a laugh and ordered another beer. "What're you doing here on Earth?" I asked him. "Researching for one of our eaters. Humanoid flesh is considered quite a delicacy. How about you?" "Scouting the place for thrill tourists. My job is to go around to these backward cultures and help stir up inter-tribal, or international, conflicts—all according to how advanced they are. Then our tourists come in—well shielded, of course—and get their kicks watching it." Paul frowned. "That sort of practice could spoil an awful lot of good meat." THE END

<question>:
What is the relationship between Paul and Rupert?

<options>:
A They are two Americans who happen to meet in Tangier.
B They are friends from Liverpool, vacationing in Tangier.
C They play cards together in Tangier.
D They are acquaintances. They met in Tangier.

<answer>:

D