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 FIVE HELLS OF ORION all along: Hatcher's second in command said: "He has got through the first survival test. In fact, he broke his way out! What next?" "Wait!" Hatcher ordered sharply. He was watching the new specimen and but it was not the pain that disturbed Hatcher, "I know," Hatcher said, "but watch. Do you see? He is going straight toward her." Hatcher, who was not human, did not possess truly human emotions but he did feel amazement when he was amazed, and fear when there was cause to be afraid. These specimens, obtained with so much difficulty, needed so badly, were his responsibility. He knew the issues involved much better than any of his helpers. They could only be surprised at the queer antics of the aliens with attached limbs and strange powers. Hatcher knew that this was not a freak show, but a matter of life and "This new one, I cannot communicate with her, but I get—almost—a whisper, now and then. The first one, the male, nothing. But this female is perhaps not quite mute." "Then shall we abandon him and work with her, forgetting the first one?" Hatcher hesitated. "No," he said at last. "The male is responding well. Remember that when last this experiment was done every subject died he is alive at least. But I am wondering. We can't quite communicate with having tunnel vision or wearing blinders. He could see what he was looking at, but he could see nothing else. And the things he could see made no sense. A spacesuit, yes How to explain a set of Gibbon's suit? It was slightly reassuring, McCray thought, to find that most of he'd had one more or less like that himself, long before he was old enough to go to school. But what were they doing here? Not everything he saw was familiar. The walls of the room itself were they were not papered, painted or overlaid with stucco. They seemed to be made of some sort of hard organic compound, perhaps a sort of plastic or from them issued the pungent, distasteful halogen odor. They might be ventilators, he thought . He could, of course, be dead. All this could be the fantasies of a may contain food. Suppose you call him "Hatcher" (and suppose you call it a "him.") Hatcher was not exactly male, because his race had no true males but it did have females and he was certainly not that. Hatcher did not in any way look like a human being, but they had features in common. If Hatcher and McCray had somehow managed to strike up an acquaintance, they might have got along very well. Hatcher, like McCray, was an of his culture. Both enjoyed games—McCray baseball, poker and three-dimensional chess Hatcher a number of sports which defy human Physically they were nothing alike. Hatcher was a three-foot, Hatcher's principal task at this moment was to run the "probe team" the members of the other team workers were in a The probe team had had a shock. "Paranormal powers," muttered Hatcher's second in command, and the others mumbled agreement. Hatcher ordered silence, studying the specimen from Earth. After a long moment he turned his senses from the Earthman. "Incredible—but it's true enough," he said. "I'd better report. Watch him," he added, but that was surely unnecessary. Their job was to and even more, not one of them could have looked away to save his life from the spectacle of a creature as odd and, from their point of view, hideously alien as Hatcher hurried through the halls of the great buried structure in Hatcher identified himself and gave a quick, concise report: about communicating with him, Hatcher? Any progress?" "Stop fidgeting," commanded the council leader abruptly. "Hatcher, you "But, sir...." Hatcher swung closer, his thick skin quivering slightly biophysical nuances of his enclosure —"and tried to guess his needs and we're frightening him half to death. We can't go faster. This creature is in no way similar to us, you know. He relies on paranormal forces—heat, light, kinetic energy—for his life. His chemistry is not ours, his processes of thought are not ours, his entire organism is closer to the inanimate rocks of a sea-bottom than to ourselves." "Understood, Hatcher. In your first report you stated these creatures were intelligent." "Yes, sir. But not in our way." "But in a Hatcher. Yours is not the only probe team working. The Central Masses "Have they secured a subject?" Hatcher demanded jealously. The councillor paused. "Worse than that, Hatcher. I am afraid their There was a moment's silence. Frozen, Hatcher could only wait. The "But the danger to the specimen—" Hatcher protested automatically. of us if we do not find allies now ." Hatcher returned to his laboratory gloomily. they had a reputation for demanding results at any cost—even at the cost of Hatcher did not like the idea of endangering the Earthman. It cannot it was not pity or sympathy that caused him to regret the dangers in moving too fast toward communication. Not even Hatcher had quite got over the revolting physical differences between the Earthman and his own people. But Hatcher did not want him destroyed. It had been difficult enough getting him here. Hatcher checked through the members that he had left with the rest of took time to eat. In Hatcher's race this was accomplished in ways not Hatcher caught and poured into a disposal trough at the side of the reported—nothing new—and asked about Hatcher's appearance before the council. Hatcher passed the question off. He considered telling his not lightly to be gossiped about. For endless generations the threat of the Old Ones had hung over his race, those queer, almost mythical beings from the Central Masses of the galaxy. One brush with them, in ages past, had almost destroyed Hatcher's people. Only by running and hiding, bearing one of their planets with them and abandoning it—with its population—as a decoy, had they arrived at all. Now they had detected mapping parties of the Old Ones dangerously near the spiral arm of the galaxy in which their planet was located, they had begun the Probe Teams to find some way of combating them, or of fleeing again. But it seemed that the Probe Teams themselves might be betraying their existence to their enemies— "Hatcher!" second in command, very excited. "What is it?" Hatcher demanded. Hatcher was patient they dodged back to their niches on his skin, fitted themselves into their vestigial slots, poured back their wastes into his own circulation and ingested what they needed from the meal he had was forming. Actually it was the assistant himself who formed it, not a Hatcher was startled. "Another one! And—is it a different species? Or Hatcher studied him frostily "Killing him, Hatcher?" Hatcher rose and shook himself, his mindless members floating away like "I am they had heard him, because they were responding. to trust the evidence of mathematics and instrument readings beyond the guesses of his "common sense." When was wrong. Perhaps it was impossible to believe what the radio's message implied but it was not necessary to "believe," only to act. deep-space suit, regulation garb when going outside the pressure hull gauntlets, a rewarding weight never mind how. Never mind what he would, or could, do next all those questions could recede into the background of his it might not keep the gas and heat out, but it would retard them. been workbenches. Yet they were queerly contrived, for it was not possible to guess from them much about the creatures who used them. benches and McCray, staring, thought briefly of many-armed blind giants or shapeless huge intelligent amoebae, and felt the skin prickle at the back of his neck. He tapped half-heartedly at one of the closed cupboards, and was not

<question>:
What best describes Hatcher's team?

<options>:
A They are careless with decisions.
B They are hasty with decisions.
C They have cruel intentions towards humans.
D They are ignorant about humans.

<answer>:

D