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 FIRST ONE By HERBERT D. KASTLE [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Analog July 1961. since engulfed and placed well within its boundaries. But everything wasn't usual. The crowd was quiet, and the mayor didn't seem quite as at-ease as he'd been on his last big welcoming—for Corporal Berringer, one of the crew of the spaceship Washington , first to set Americans upon Mars. His Honor's handclasp was somewhat moist and cold. His Honor's eyes held a trace of remoteness. Still, he was the honored home-comer, the successful returnee, the national interest, the fact that he was the First One, had made them they'd adjusted to all the other firsts taking place in these—as the newspapers had dubbed the start of the Twenty-first Century—the Galloping Twenties. He was glad when the official greeting was over. He was a very tired man any man who'd ever lived before. He wanted a meal at his own table, a almost rebuilt the entire outside and grounds. But he was sorry. He had He was glad. He'd had enough of strangers. Not that he was through with knocker on the new door and heard the soft music sound within. He was had Ralphie was with her. They held onto each other as if seeking mutual support, the thirty-three-year old woman and ten-year-old boy. They looked at him, and then both moved forward, still together. He said, "It's good to be home!" jokes came to mind, the jokes of travel-weary, battle-weary men, the difference, and because of this difference he turned with urgency to think of nothing else to say, "What a big fella, what a big fella." Ralphie stood in his arms as if his feet were still planted on the floor, and he didn't look at his father but somewhere beyond him. "I didn't grow much while you were gone, Dad, Mom says I don't eat enough." So he put him down and told himself that it would all change, that everything would loosen up just as his commanding officer, General Carlisle, had said it would early this morning before he left Washington. "Give it some time," Carlisle had said. "You need the time they need the time. And for the love of heaven, don't be sensitive." down beside him—but she had hesitated. He wasn't being sensitive she had hesitated. His wife had hesitated before sitting down beside him. Carlisle had said his position was analogous to Columbus', to Vasco De with him all the way, who had engineered the entire fantastic journey—even Carlisle the Nobel prize winner, the multi-degreed genius twenty-five years ago. But Ralphie's face was drawn, was worried in a way that few ten-year-old faces are. "How's it going in school?" he asked. He nodded, remembering that, remembering everything, remembering the he left for the experimental flight station in the Aleutians. They had continent-to-continent experimental flight. They had been right to worry. He had suffered much after that blow-up. But now they should be rejoicing, because he had survived and made the they felt he had changed too much. ominous a barrier to him than the twelve-foot concrete-and-barbed-wire fence around the experimental station. "Which one is mine," he asked, and tried to smile. fresh air, the sunshine in the morning. You always said it helped you had them. Which was not what he'd considered at all important on leaving Walter which was something he found distasteful, something he felt beneath them both. And, at the same time, he began to understand that there would be many things, previously all the people he knew had probably changed—because they thought he had changed. But sometime later, as he was dozing off, a sense of reassurance began filtering into his mind. After all, he was still Henry Devers, the same man who had left home eleven months ago, with a love for family and return to old values, old relationships, the normalcies of the backwash granted to him. Before he'd become the First One, it would have been a noisy affair. His family had never been noted for a lack of ebullience, a lack of talkativeness, and Ralphie had always chosen mealtimes—especially with with his mother, though they didn't agree about much. Still, it had been good-natured the general tone of their lives had been good-natured. This wasn't good-natured. Exactly what it was he wasn't sure. "Stiff" was perhaps the word. They began with grapefruit, Edith and Mother serving quickly, he'd said it many many times her no one indicated in any way that a woman was sobbing at the table. He was sitting directly across from Mother, and reached out and touched the hero returned, waiting to be treated as a human being. The grapefruit shells were cleaned away and the soup served. Uncle Joe began to talk. "The greatest little development of circular uniform houses you ever did see," he boomed in his powerful salesman's voice. "Still going like sixty. We'll sell out before—" At that point he looked at Hank, and Hank nodded encouragement, desperately interested in slices of beef, the pink blood-juice oozing warmly from the center. He cut into it and raised a forkful to his mouth, then glanced at Ralphie Ralphie Joe was overturned, spilling water. He brought it down again and again. They were all standing now. He sat there and pounded the table with his big right fist—Henry Devers, who would never have thought of making such a scene before, but who was now so sick and tired of being treated as the First One, of being stood back from, looked at in awe of, felt in fear of, that he could have smashed more than a table. the lot of you." dessert she'd been preparing half the day—a magnificent English trifle. She served him, and spooned out a portion for herself and Ralphie. She hesitated near his chair, and when he made no comment she called the They answered together that of course they wanted to. But their was going to his room because he was, after all, very tired and would in could barely keep Phil from coming up and waking you himself. They want He sat up. "Phil," he muttered. "Phil and Rhona." They'd had wonderful times together, from grammar school on. Phil and Rhona, their oldest and but then again, he'd mechanical dancing doll. Phil singing and telling an occasional bad joke, and somehow not his old self. No one was his old self. No one would ever be his old self with the First One. Phil finished a story about a Martian and a Hollywood sex queen and Hank said, "No, Phil, why is it the most popular place on earth?" his hand and muttered, "I forgot the punch line." "Because people are dying to get in," Hank said, and looked through the you terribly, we've all hurt you terribly, by trying to hide that we're frightened." "I'm going to stay in the guest room," he said, "for as long as "How could it be for good? How, Hank?" That question was perhaps the first firm basis for hope he'd had since returning. And there was something else what Carlisle had told him, even as Carlisle himself had reacted as all men did. "There are others coming, Edith. Eight that I know of in the tanks right now. My superior, Captain Davidson, who died at the same moment I did—seven months ago next Wednesday—he's going to be next. He was smashed up worse than I was, so it took a little longer, but he's almost all they possibly can from now on. Every time a young and healthy man loses his life by accident, by violence, and his body can be recovered, he'll go into the tanks and they'll start the regenerative brain and organ process—the process that made it all possible. So people have to He knew what the question was. It had been the first asked him by satisfied. Later, half asleep, he heard a dog howling, and remembered stories of

<question>:
Who invented the regenerative brain and organ process?

<options>:
A General Carlisle
B Captain Davidson
C Vasco De Gama
D Corporal Berringer

<answer>:

A