input: Text: The Gravity Business By JAMES E. GUNN Illustrated by ASHMAN This little alien beggar could dictate his own terms, but how could he—and how could anyone find out what those terms might be? The flivver descended vertically toward the green planet circling the old, orange sun. It was a spaceship, but not the kind men had once dreamed about. The flivver was shaped like a crude bullet, blunt at one end of a fat cylinder and tapering abruptly to a point at the other. It had been slapped together out of sheet metal and insulation board, and it sold, fully equipped, for $15,730. It didn't behave like a spaceship, either. As it hurtled down, its speed increased with dramatic swiftness. Then, at the last instant before impact, it stopped. Just like that. A moment later, it thumped a last few inches into the ankle-deep grass and knee-high white flowers of the meadow. It was a shock of a jar that made the sheet-metal walls boom like thunder machines. The flivver rocked unsteadily on its flat stern before it decided to stay upright. Then all was quiet—outside. Inside the big, central cabin, Grampa waved his pircuit irately in the air. "Now look what you made me do! Just when I had the blamed thing practically whipped, too!" Grampa was a white-haired 90-year-old who could still go a fast round or two with a man (or woman) half his age, but he had a habit of lapsing into tantrum when he got annoyed. "Now, Grampa," Fred soothed, but his face was concerned. Fred, once called Young Fred, was Grampa's only
  Question: What is Grampa’s claim to fame?
  
   (A) Striking radioactive deposits on far flung planets that can be sold back on Earth for a fortune
   (B) Solving all the pircuits he’d ever been challenged with
   (C) Being the first space missionary
   (D) Creating a special piece of machinery for spaceships
  Answer:
output: Creating a special piece of machinery for spaceships