He thought he knew why.
The problem was to smuggle out any viable amount of the virus. Even a few cells, he thought, would be enough if he could get away from here and get them into his own blood. For it would multiply; and what would be the going price for a drop of one's blood—for a thousandth of a drop—if it carried virtual immortality?
A man could very nearly buy Earth.
The voice was speaking again. "Move straight ahead. The field will be opened for you."
Murdoch got the ship moving. He was blanked out again by the melting ice until they popped free into air, with an odd hesitation and then a rush. The ship was borne clear on some sort of a beam. He could hear water cascading outside the hull for a second, then it was quiet. He glanced at the aft viewer and could see the tunnel where they'd come out, with a little water still in the bottom, confined by the force-field again. The water that had escaped was running off along a ditch that circled the clearing.
They were lowered slowly to the gravelled area. "Leave the ship," the voice directed, "and walk to the doorway you see."
Murdoch helped Waverill through the inner and outer hatches and led him toward the building. His information was that a force barrier sliced off this half of the circle from the other, and he could see that the hedges along the diameter pressed against some invisible plane surface. He hesitated as they came to it, and the voice said, "Walk straight ahead to the door. The field will be opened for you."
He guided Waverill in the right direction. As they passed the mid-point he felt an odd reluctance, a tingle and a slight resistance. Waverill grunted at it, but said nothing.