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

<passage>:
HE was lying motionless on a hard cot, with his eyes closed, yet with his every sense sharply quickened. Tentatively he tightened down a long, glass-walled he felt straps binding him to the cot. corridor. Bright sunlight “Don’t be stupid. We just do what we’re told. We’ll hold him.” “What do you think they’ll do “Execute him, I suppose,” the sleep?” he asked with mock solicitude. Zarwell did not deign to acknowledge that he heard. At the rear of the space was a row of lockers for traveler use. He slipped a coin into a pay slot, opened the zipper on his bag and him. The youth nodded and went out, while the other pulled a chair up to the side of Zarwell’s cot. him only a few seconds to push the case into the compartment, lock it and slide the key along the floor pulled out a flat briefcase. It took While their attention was away his strayed thoughts. “I expected There was nothing to do after that—except wait. with an instinctive motion. beneath the locker. able to incapacitate two or three and break out. But the fact that relaxed. He offered no resistance as they reached him. ruffian, copper-brown face damp with perspiration and body oil, grabbed him by the jacket and slammed him back against the sitting is about all we ever try. body down against his chest and held it there until all agitated movement ceased. He sat up then, letting the body slide to the floor. The straps about his thighs came loose with little effort. Otherwise some particular episode THE analyst dabbed at his upper lip with a handkerchief. “The “Did I talk while I was under?” “Oh, yes. You were supposed to. That way I follow pretty well what memory seemed on the point of complete return, and he sat quietly, glance in the mirror satisfied him comanalysis this afternoon ] opened the collar of his shirt. The day was hot, and the room had no air conditioning, still a rare luxury on St. Martin’s. The office window was open, but it let in no freshness, only the mildly rank odor that pervaded adjusted to a life of ease and some prestige to meet danger calmly. chatter as he administered the drug. “A scopolamine derivative that’s been well tested.” The floor beneath Zarwell’s feet maintained a professional diversionary sponge. It rose in a foot-high wave and rolled gently toward the far wall. patient. If he was skilled enough, he could sort the relevancies from the vast amount of chaff. We are able now, with the help of the serum, to confine our discourses to matters cogent to the patient’s trouble.” The floor continued its transmutation, and Zarwell sank deep into viscous depths. “Lie back and relax. Don’t …” The words tumbled down from relax. “You’re still pretty much in the fog about yourself. I read more was under his arm a minute later. In the basement lave he put a smile. Thirty-six hours under the paralysis was longer than advisable. The muscles should be rested at least every twenty hours. Fortunately his natural features would serve as an adequate disguise he took from his case, and carefully rayed several small areas of his face, loosening muscles that had been tight too long. He sighed gratefully when he finished, massaging his cheeks and forehead with as much. A quite normal first phase of treatment.” He straightened a paper on his desk. “I think that will considerable pleasure. Another be enough for today. Twice in one again and exchanged the gun for and pushed himself to his feet, apparently unaware that his shirt clung damply to his body. a small syringe, which he pushed might cause undue mental stress, with the changes that had been made. He turned to his briefcase THE sun was still high when Back at the locker he replaced the briefcase and, with a wad of gum, glued the key to the bottom of the locker frame. One step more. Taking the syringe from his pocket, he plunged the needle into his forearm and tossed the instrument down a near-deserted. The only sounds he heard as he passed were the occasional cry of a baby, chronically waking from a vivid dream. “Q UITE ingenious,” Graves murmured admiringly. “You had your mind already preconditioned swamp, with a faint taint of fish. you deliberately give yourself amnesia?” “What better disguise than to believe the part you’re playing?” But in the Flats the odor changes. try it myself. It must have taken a lot of trust on your part.” [p candy and cigarettes. Slowly he climbed the stairs of a stone flat. He prepared a supper for himself and ate it without either enjoyment or distaste. He lay down, fully clothed, on his bed. The visit to the analyst had done nothing to dispel his ennui. ] The next morning when Zarwell awoke he lay for a moment, unmoving. The feeling was there again, like a scene waiting only to It was as though a great wisdom lay at the edge of understanding. If he rested quietly it would all come to him. Yet always, when his mind lost its sleep-induced [p 140 ] lethargy, the moment of near understanding slipped away. This morning, however, the sense of disorientation did not pass with full wakefulness. He achieved no understanding, but the strangeness did not leave as he sat up. He gazed about him. The room their freedom they are as oppressive He pulled himself from his blankets, his body moving with mechanical reaction. The slippers into as their former masters.’ When The place was familiar, but only as it would have been if he had studied it from blueprints, not as though he lived there. The feeling was still with him when he returned to the psychoanalyst. THE scene this time was more word eventually gets out, and I’m right back in a fight again. It’s like the proverbial monkey on my back. kaleidoscopic, less personal. get me out of it. I should have known it wouldn’t work. But this concrete and the besiegers charged through, carrying back the defenders who sought vainly to plug the to talk about,” was the best he could manage. “Then will you just listen? After, ] Zarwell smiled with mild embarrassment. “At least in my dreams.” is beginning to prosper. Yet explain. This work is so routine to me that sometimes I forget it’s all new to a patient. Actually what you experienced under the drug were not dreams. They were recollections of real episodes from your the only ones receiving the benefits are the rulers. The citizens work twelve hours a day. They are poorly closely. After a minute, however, he seemed satisfied, and he let himself settle back against the cushion of his chair. “I remember nothing of what I saw,” he observed. know,” Bergstrom answered. “To help you remember.” “But everything under the drug is so …” “Haphazard? That’s true. The amnesia. I believe we will find that your mind has been tampered with.” “Nothing I’ve seen under the drug fits into the past I do remember.” implanted there. But we can go into that later. For today I think we have done enough. This episode up the next morning and he rode with a tech crew to the edge of essential expansion. The reclam crews filled and sodded the sterile rock, planted binding grasses, grain and trees, and Three rubber-tracked crawlers picked their way down from the mountains until they joined the After its three-thousand-mile journey across scorched sterile rock, it sucked the moisture from a man’s body, bringing a membrane-shrinking dryness to the nostrils as it was breathed in. With it came also the cloying taste of limestone in a

<question>:
How does the comanalysis process work?

<options>:
A The patient is drugged and put in a wave machine so that they can relax and get insomnia relief.
B The patient is drugged and experiences hallucinations to help cope with past trauma.
C The patient is drugged to put them in a relaxed state so that they can recover lost memories.
D The patient is drugged and put in a sponge-like material. This makes the patient relaxed enough to sleep and dream.

<answer>:

C