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

<passage>:
its contents when he was through But his attention was diverted by a gleam from one of the benches. Metallic parts lay heaped in a pile. He poked at them with a stiff-fingered gauntlet IV 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 a troublesome thought had occurred to him. The new one was female and seemed to be in pain but it was not the pain that disturbed Hatcher, it was something far more immediate to his interests. "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, this damned, dark, dismal hole of a place where everything was out to Hatcher knew that this was not a freak show, but a matter of life and exasperation: "If I could only see !" hurt him and nothing explained what was going on. He cried aloud in He tripped and fell against something that was soft, slimy and, like Hatcher hesitated. "No," he said at last. "The male is responding well. , an explosion, himself knocked out, brought here in a suit ... well, it was an explanation with more holes than fabric, like a fisherman's net, but at least it was rational. How to explain a set of Gibbon's . He could, of course, be dead. All this could be the fantasies of a II Someone else could. Someone was watching Herrell McCray, with the clinical fascination of a biochemist observing the wigglings of paramecia in a new antibiotic—and with the prayerful emotions of a starving, shipwrecked, sailor, watching the inward bobbing drift of a wave-born cask that 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 it did have females and he was certainly not that. Hatcher did not in they might have got along very well. Hatcher, like McCray, was an 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" 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 watch McCray, and they would do their job 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: "The subject recovered consciousness a short time ago and began to inspect his enclosure. His method of doing so was to put his own undisturbed. However, he then reverted to physical-contact, manipulating certain appurtenances of an artificial skin we had provided for him. in his breathing passage. "Simultaneously, the object he was holding, attached to the artificial about communicating with him, Hatcher? Any progress?" was not really a waste of time for him with the organs he had left in Still, Hatcher fretted. He wanted to get back. "Stop fidgeting," commanded the council leader abruptly. "Hatcher, you "But, sir...." Hatcher swung closer, his thick skin quivering slightly with. "We've done everything we dare. We've made the place homey for him—" actually, what he said was more like, 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 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 "Have they secured a subject?" Hatcher demanded jealously. There was a moment's silence. Frozen, Hatcher could only wait. The "But the danger to the specimen—" Hatcher protested automatically. Hatcher returned to his laboratory gloomily. they had a reputation for demanding results at any cost—even at the cost of destroying the only thing you had that would make results possible. 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 Hatcher did not want him destroyed. It had been difficult enough Hatcher checked through the members that he had left with the rest of his team and discovered that there were no immediate emergencies, so he took time to eat. In Hatcher's race this was accomplished in ways not entirely pleasant to Earthmen. A slit in the lower hemisphere of his body opened, like a purse, emitting a thin, pussy, fetid fluid which Hatcher caught and poured into a disposal trough at the side of the eating room. He then stuffed the slit with pulpy vegetation the texture of kelp it closed, and his body was supplied with nourishment for another day. He returned quickly to the room. reported—nothing new—and asked about Hatcher's appearance before the council. Hatcher passed the question off. He considered telling his existence to their enemies— "Hatcher!" second in command, very excited. "What is it?" Hatcher demanded. Hatcher was patient was about to happen. He took the moment to call his members back to him for feeding 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 just taken.... "Now!" cried the assistant. "Look!" At what passed among Hatcher's people for a viewing console an image but it showed what it was meant to show. Hatcher was startled. "Another one! And—is it a different species? Or Hatcher studied him frostily And then, in a completely different mood, "We may need him badly. We may be in the process of killing our first one now." "Killing him, Hatcher?" Hatcher rose and shook himself, his mindless members floating away like puppies dislodged from suck. "Council's orders," he said. "We've got to but it was ripping his lungs out. He flushed the interior of the suit out with a reckless disregard for the wastage of his air reserve, holding his breath as much as he could, daring only shallow gasps that made him retch and gag. After a long never mind how. Never mind what he would, or could, do next all those questions could recede into the background of his mind while he swung the ax and battered his way out of this poisoned oven. but flaking out in chips that left a white powdery residue. At this rate, he thought grimly, he would be an hour getting through 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 surprised when it proved as refractory as the door. Undoubtedly he could batter it open, but it was not likely that much would be left of

<question>:
What was the author's purpose on including a section about Hatcher's feedings?

<options>:
A To give insight on Hatcher's personality.
B To show that McCray will have to feed like Hatcher if he does not return to Jodrell Bank because there is no human food where he is.
C To further elaborate how different Hatcher and his kind are from a human.
D To show how grotesque his feeding process is.

<answer>:

C