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. I'm A Stranger Here Myself The Place de France is the town's hub. It marks the end down to the Grand Socco and the medina. In a three-minute walk from the Place de France you can go from an ultra-modern, California-like resort to the Baghdad of Harun al-Rashid. King-size sidewalk cafes occupy three of the strategic corners on the Place de France. The Cafe de Paris serves the establishment. You can sit of a sunny morning and read the Paris edition of the New York at current exchange. You can sit there, after the Tangier is possibly the most cosmopolitan city in the world. In native costume you'll see from further south. In and Chinese, Hindus and Turks, 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 bodies, and the richest will avoid your eyes, afraid might try to sell them something. smugglers and black-marketeers, fugitives from justice and international con men, espionage and counter-espionage agents, homosexuals, nymphomaniacs, alcoholics, drug addicts, displaced persons, ex-royalty, and subversives limits the activities of few of Tribune 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. Rupert? Haven't seen you for exports. "What's in the newspaper?" he said, disinterestedly. "Pogo and Albert are going to fight a duel," I told him, "and "Oh," I said, "the intellectual type." I scanned the front page. another manned satellite." anything we Americans have." to those poxy flying "What flying saucers?" Paris. Every pore in place. We both looked after her. "You know, what everybody too bad one of these bloody manned Maybe they would've seen one." without rubbing him the wrong well, but, for that matter, it's 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 Free lunch, they used to call it in the States. Just to say something, I said, "Where do you think they came from?" And when he looked blank, I added, "The Flying He grinned. "From Mars or Venus, or someplace." landed on the Yale football field and said Take me to your cheerleader , or something." crackpot blokes' explanations of them. If they were aliens from space, then why not show themselves?" oil. answers to that one. We could Paul was mildly interested. "Like what?" there's this big Galactic League of civilized planets. But it's restricted, 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." read the same poxy stuff I do." in a neatly tailored gray jellaba, European style high-heeled I said, "Or, here's another advanced civilization on, say, Mars." "Not Mars. No air, and too bloody dry to support life." "Don't interrupt, please," I said with mock severity. "This is a very old civilization and as the planet began to lose its water and air, it withdrew underground. Uses hydroponics and air. Isn't that what we'd do, in a few million years, if Earth lost its water and air?" what about them?" "Well, they observe how man is going through a scientific Any day now he's going to have practical space ships. Meanwhile, he's also got the H-Bomb and the way he beats the drums on both sides of the Curtain, he's not against using it, if he could 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." 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 and revolutions, and greed for power or any of these things giving us a bad time here on Earth. They're all like scholars, pretty jolly well taken by Earth, especially the way we are right or how we're going to get there." my hands for Mouley. "How do you mean, where we're going ?" "Well, take half the countries in the world today. They're trying to industrialize, modernize, catch up with the advanced countries. Look at Egypt, and Israel, and India and China, and Yugoslavia and Brazil, and all the rest. Trying to drag themselves countries, and all using different methods of doing it. But look at the so-called advanced countries. Up to their bottoms in climbing crime and suicide rates, the loony-bins full of the balmy, unemployed, threat of war, spending all their money on armaments it. Why, a man from Mars would be fascinated, like." 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 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 this possibility, it seemed to me that such an alien would base himself in London or New York. Somewhere where he could use the libraries for research, get the daily newspapers and the magazines. Be right in the 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 haven't the slightest idea of how ask a man where's he's from. He can be British, a White Russian, could care less. Where are you from, Rupert?" "California," I told him. "No, you're not," he grinned. I was taken aback. "What do "I felt your mind probe back a few minutes ago when I was talking about Scotland Yard or the F.B.I. possibly flushing an alien. Telepathy is a sense not trained by the humanoids. If difficult. Let's face it, in spite of these human bodies we're disguised in, neither of us is humanoid. Where are you really from, Rupert?" "Aldebaran," I said. "How about you?" We had a laugh and ordered another beer. "What're you doing here on Earth?" I asked him. "Researching for one of our meat trusts. We're protein 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, 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 Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from December 1960. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S.

<question>:
What, according to Rupert, would be the best place for an alien visitor to observe and learn about humans?

<options>:
A Harun al-Rashid
B The Cafe de Paris
C A New York City library
D The FBI headquarters

<answer>:

B