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

<passage>:
By JIM HARMON How much is the impossible worth? Linton lay down his steel fork beside the massively solid transparency know how it is. Snead's dead, don't you remember?" Linton remembered. Howell had to know that he would remember. What were they trying to pull on him? "The man who isn't Snead is leaving," Linton said, describing the scene over Howell's shoulder. "If that's Snead's brother, I might catch him to pay my respects." "Snead came to Greta's funeral. It's the least I could do." like him." "He's practically running," Linton said. "He almost ran out of the restaurant." "Yes," Linton said. intimately against Linton's own chair. thick man said. "Couldn't have been him, though," Linton answered automatically. "My friend's dead." out of the place quickly. Howell breathed in deeply and sucked back Linton's attention. "Now you've probably got old Snead into trouble." "Snead's dead," Linton said. "Oh, well, 'dead,'" Howell replied. "What do you say it like that for?" Linton demanded angrily. "The Linton had thought he had known how death was. He had buried his wife, the sawdust-fresh pine box that held the coffin. He had known what he sincerely felt to be a genuine affection for Greta. Even after they had let him out of the asylum as cured, he still secretly believed he had known a genuine affection for her. But it didn't seem he knew about death at all. Linton felt that his silence was asking Howell by this time. I suppose he might have been resurrected." "Who by?" Linton asked, thinking: life?" Linton said. patently ridiculous, Linton hoped to bring the contradicting truth to "But it's wonderful," Linton said, thinking his immediate thoughts. "I don't understand," Linton said helplessly. in the White House, ready to assassinate if they have to. Death is their whole life. You got to realize that." "That's not enough. Not nearly enough." "Think of all the problems it would cause. Insurance, for one thing. Overpopulation. Birth control is a touchy subject. They'd have to take it up if everybody got resurrected when they died, wouldn't they?" "But what do they do about it? Against it?" the cops find out about a place, they break in, smash all the equipment "I don't understand," Linton complained. "Why haven't I heard about it?" to be dead someday,' not anything sexual. You know how it is. The "I see," Linton said. out of touch for some time. It might be true. Then again, they might be trying to trick him. They used to do that to see if he was really well. But the temptation was too strong. Linton's fingers imprinted the linen. "Damn you, Howell, you tell me!" you feel welcome back to the society of your fellows after being in the hospital for a nervous breakdown. I do all that, and for thanks, you yell at me and curse me. You kooks are all alike!" I've got to hurry too, Linton thought. It's Resurrection Day! well, Mr. Linton, we understand you've been causing disturbances." "Not really," Linton said modestly. attempted to bribe an officer. That's disturbing, Mr. Linton, very "I was only trying to find out something," Linton maintained. "They Linton rubbed his shoulder. "That cop knew more about Judo holds than I Linton stared suspiciously. "Do you know where I can find a Linton scooted forward on the insultingly cold metal chair and really "Doctor, I'm beginning to believe in you," Linton said, "but tell me, can you resurrect the long dead?" "No, my wife has been dead a long time. Months." "Months?" The doctor snapped those weeks away with his fingers. "It could be years. Centuries. It's all mathematics, my boy. I need only one fragment of the body and my computers can compute what the rest "Infallible risk, yes," Linton murmured. "Could you go to work right Linton grasped the situation immediately. "You mean you want money. You realize I've just got out of an institution...." "I've often been in institutions myself, for alcoholism, narcotics addiction and more." "What a wonderful professional career," Linton said, when he couldn't care less. "Neither did I," Linton said hastily. "I invested in shifty stocks, faltering bonds, and while I was away they sank to rock bottom." "Then—" would have been secure for the rest of my lonely, miserable life." "All that's ended now," the doctor assured him. "Now we must go dig up to obtain. The doctor had taken the body and Linton's fortune and fed them both into the maw of his calculators, and by means of the secret, smuggled formulae, Greta would be cybernetically reborn. Linton shook his head. It seemed impossible. But Greta opened the sanctum and walked out into the medicinal cold fluorescent lighting. It wasn't fair at all, Linton thought. He should have had some time to prepare himself. doubt he would be able to adjust to her once having been dead the same way he had learned to accept the, to him, distasteful duty of kissing her ears the way she enjoyed. "Yes," he said, his heart lurching for her sad ignorance. "But tell me—how was it being away "Now, now," Linton said, "we mustn't get excited. You've been through a was the same hair, black as evil, contrasting with her inner purity. Of course it would be Johnny...." "It was a terrible accident right after—that is, about five months ago. He was killed." "Traffic accident. Killed instantly." have the money to pay for a resurrection of Johnny." But you're sure you haven't the money to do it?" "No," Linton said. "I'm sold out. I've borrowed on my insurance to the hilt. It won't pay any more until I'm buried, and then, of course, you can resurrect me." "Of course," Greta said. She sighed. "Poor Johnny. He was such a good friend of yours. You must miss him. I'm so sorry for you." to quench death and smother decay. It's perfect Linton followed the direction of Greta's gaze and found only an ashtray Linton leaped aside and Greta hit the edge of the desk instead of him. Brain damage, he concluded nervously. Cell deterioration. writhed against him provocatively. "Frank, I'm sorry, dear, but I have to have that insurance money. It's hell!" Linton understood immediately. He felt foolish, humiliated. All that Linton twisted the stand away from his wife and watched her face acceptance of the crumpled metal disk falling toward it. He split her head open and watched her float to the floor. Linton was surprised at the fine wire mesh just below the skin and Or— But it didn't matter. Not a bit. "I've killed my wife!" Linton called, rising from his knees, stretching his hands out to something. The pain stung him to sleep—a pain in his neck like a needle that left a hole big enough for a camel to pass through and big enough for him to He opened his eyes to the doctor's spotless, well-ordered office. The doctor looked down at him consolingly. "You'll have to go back, Mr. Linton. But they'll cure you. You'll be cured of ever thinking your wife was brought back to life and that you killed her all over again." think so, Doctor?" Linton asked hopefully.

<question>:
What likely happens to Linton at the end of the story?

<options>:
A He and his wife live happily, both as cybernetic creatures
B He repeats a cycle of having his money taken from him from doctors
C He goes to rehab and then moves on with his life
D He will never leave the asylym because he needs too much help

<answer>:

B