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. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that The prison below them was washed with light—from the guard posts on was one of the many talents bred here! I North of the prison, on the long, flat, damp developments of reclaimed land, the matchbox row houses of the clerical neighborhoods showed the walls, from the cell blocks themselves, from the mobile lights of 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. That was the prescription that kept the city-state alive. There's no harm in a family fight—and aren't all mechanics a family, aren't all laborers a clan, aren't all clerks and office workers related by closer ties than blood or skin? But the declassed cons of the Jug were the dregs of every class and once they spread, the neat compartmentation of society was pierced. The was a man who lived by the book. known. breakout would mean riot on a bigger scale than any prison had ever 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, or at any rate he does not advance civilization. And letting the specializations mix would produce genetic undesirables: clerk-laborer or Professional-GI misfits, for example, being only half specialized, 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 do a good, clean civil-service job. If he had happened to be born a fig—a himself—if he had happened to be born a clerk, why, he would have been proud of that, too. There wasn't anything wrong with being a clerk—or a mechanic or a soldier, or even a laborer, for that matter. Good laborers were the salt of the Earth! They weren't smart, maybe, 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 comfortable laborer . 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 Civil Service and not the kind to try to cross over class barriers that weren't Every prison has its Greensleeves—sometimes they are called by different names. Old Marquette called it "the canary " elsewhere it was called "the hole," "the it is called it is a place for punishment. inhabitants wore, it was called the Greensleeves. It was a community of 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. the outside. could ignore the prisoners—they simply could not move fast enough, against the electronic drag of the field, to do any harm. But it was a to retch. Sauer and Flock were what are called prison wolves. They were laborers—"wipes," for short—or, at any rate, they had been once. They had spent so much time in prisons that it was sometimes hard even five-footer with the build of a water moccasin—and the sad, stupid eyes of a calf. under her skin. They weren't even—even human , she told herself 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— What outside—an architect. Those laundry cons were laborers. Pros and wipes don't mix it isn't natural. And there are other things." right? lifer, she's got no place to go, she gets along with the other women. your job, keeping the inmates in line, and I have mine. Now your job is just as important as my job," he said piously. " Everybody's 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 ." that for the warden to talk to him? "Excuse the expression, O'Leary," the warden said anxiously. "I mean, after all, 'Specialization is the goal of civilization,' right?" He was a great man for platitudes, was Warden Schluckebier. " You my yours He sat beaming into space, waiting for the jolt to take effect. "Well, then," he said at last. "You just remember what I've told you tonight, O'Leary, and we'll get along fine. 'Specialization is the—' Oh, curse the thing." what ? actuated the tangler fields on the floors of the cells. The prison rules were humanitarian, even for the dregs that inhabited the Greensleeves. Ten minutes out of every two hours, even the worst case rubber 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 here, he told himself—not for the first time. And imagine, some people Almost like meat scorching. It wasn't pleasant. He finished untying Flock and turned away let the vain about it, even at times he had been known to boast of his ability to make the rounds in two minutes, every time. Every time but this. it had been made out of a bed-spring, ripped loose from its frame God knows how, hidden inside the greensleeved jacket God knows how—filed, filed to sharpness over endless hours. had been hidden during other rest periods, felt like raw acid. The word spread out from the prison on seven-league boots. checkpoints, and from there it filtered into the homes and lives of the A handful of men, and the enormous bulk of the city-state quivered in every limb and class. In its ten million homes, in its hundreds of thousands of public places, the city-state's people shook under the impact of the news from the prison. For the news touched them where their fears lay. Riot! And not merely a street brawl among roistering wipes, or a bar-room fight of greasers and no one cared but in the Jug, all classes were cast together. the alert siren, and behind them their wives and children stretched no, the kids told querulously awake in her nursery at home. "What in God's name is the them out they were to fly interdicting missions at such-and-such

<question>:
What is true about the world these characters live in?

<options>:
A They all live under the impression they can only perform one job for their whole life.
B People are segregated by career, and it's incredibly difficult for them to meet other groups and switch jobs.
C People are segregated by career, and not allowed to mingle with other groups or switch jobs.
D People have evolved to only be capable of one "specialization" through their lives.

<answer>:

C