Astounding Science Fiction, February 1952 (British Edition) — page 39: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

THE BODYGUARD “T don’t owe a Bodyguard anything,” she Whispered. Billy laughed. His knife was cool, and he stuck it back in its scabbard. “You Should ha’ come a little later,” he said. “She'd tell me where the old man is, all right, after she crawled around on her wrists and ankles for a while.” “You hear him,” I said to the girl. “You want me to turn you over to him again, or will you tell where Johnson is?” She was scared. She seemed to draw up into herself. “I don’t know,” she said. “I don’t know where he is.’ “You're his daughter, aren’t. you?” =aVeS,< “What are you doing here?” “Tve been living in the woods,” she ex- plained rapidly, “Pa’s been gone a year now, nobody knows where he is. I came back to look around kind of, and see if it was safe to live here again.” “Whereabouts in ‘the woods you been living?” “Just around.” “Your father’s hiding out in the Ruins, isn’t he?” “J don’t know what you're talking about,” she said. 5 I turned to Billy. “How’d you find her?” I asked. He grunted. “I came down here to look the place over, same as you did. The old man is probably right around the neighbot- hood, living with one of these farmers. Anyhow, I see this girl sneakin’ around in the house, so I grabbed her. Does that give you any ideas, bright boy?” “You think Johnson’s hiding out near here?” J asked him. Sur “Why?” “A smart kid like you should be able to figure it out himself. Where else would he go?” “For one thing,” I said, watching the girl closely, “he might go into the Ruins. He believed in reading, so he’d go some place where there were. a lot of books. He’d do that because he’d figure the books would show him to get rid of the Chief.” It seemed to me the girl was trying too hard to look indifferent. I thought perhaps I was on the right track. We talked some more but got nowhere, except that I found out her name was Molly. She calmed down considerably after she was sure no one was going to burn her hands and feet off, 37 but she stuck to her story about not know- - ing where Johnson was. As it was getting late, I went out to get my horse, and stabled him in the old barn. I guess only Molly got much sleep that night, because both Billy and I were lying awake listening to each other’s breathing. Maybe the Chief thought Norma’d given him a good idea, sending Billy to watch. me, but it didn’t seem so smart to me. In the morning I brought down a couple of rabbits with my slingshot, and we had a good breakfast. There is no shortage of game in the Sacramento Territory. In the hills of the east, where I was raised, a good man with a spear can bring down a buck almost for the asking. Then I put Molly on my horse behind me, and we started out for the Ruins. Billy Garth was sulky, but he came along; I could see that he was afraid of radiations. I kept watching Molly for signs of the same fear, but, as she showed none, I con- cluded that she really had been living in the Ruins with her father, and living there had learned the radiations were only super- stition. When you get to the top of the hills just this side of the Bay, you can see the begin- nings of the Ruins. It is a breathtaking sight; thousands and thousands of houses, all of them just shells. I could see that Billy was sweating, so I took a lot of pleasure in riding forward steadily. From the crest of the ridge there is a steady slope down to the Bay. We could see the brightly shining waters, and across them the site of San Francisco, another of the cities of the Old Men. We could even see where the bridges had once jutted out from the shore. I said to the girl, “What was the name of this place, just below us?” “T don’t know,” she said. “Won't hurt you any to tell me,” swered. “I'd just like to know.” - She paused. Though skinny, as I have I an- said, she was somehow attractive. Her eyes © were greenish and her skin was fair. “It was called Berkeley,” she said. “That’s what I was told. The Old Men had a lot of wonderful things here.” “Por instance?” ! “Books,” she hesitated, “My f£—people I know said there were just thousands of books buried here.” “Can you read?” I asked her. “Yes,” she said challengingly. “I don’t care who knows it, either.” “That’s all right,’ I said. “It’s no skin comicbooks.co