In celebration of the imminent release of Peter S. Beagle’s THE OVERNEATH, Tachyon presents glimpses from some of the volume’s magnificent tales.

Olfert
Dapper’s Day

by Peter S. Beagle

Dr.
Olfert Dapper had never attended any medical school: neither in
Amsterdam, where he was born, nor in Utrecht, where he had first
begun employing the title Doctor
Medicinae after two years of occasional attendance
at the university. Nor, in candor, had he ever visited India, China,
Persia, or Africa, about all of which lands he had nevertheless
published voluminously detailed and well-received books. A placid,
sedentary, somewhat portly man by nature, he had seen no reason to
disturb a peaceful existence by crossing undependable oceans,
conducting tedious expeditions, or otherwise placing the said
existence at risk of discomfort or termination. Much better to write
out of a fecund imagination, an even more bountiful fantasy life, and
the rich sense of survival that had served him so well for nearly
forty-five years. He was, take him for all in all, a pleasant soul
who had always trusted in the trust of others, and who had, until
quite recently, never found that faith misplaced.

Unfortunately,
his confidence in the gullibility of country bumpkins from Eck en
Wiel had lately been badly shaken when one bumpkin turned out to be
related—who could have known?—to a seriously powerful member of
the States-General capable of recognizing a very slightly fraudulent
land contract when he saw one. On the whole, as a presumed man of
medicine, Dr. Dapper recommended travel to himself: travel for
reasons of health and longevity, travel to destinations which seemed
a good deal less important than the swiftness of his departure. The
beadle, summons under his arm, was knocking on Dr. Dapper’s front
door as that good entrepreneur slipped out the back way, his quickly
packed valise firm in his grip.

But
the beadle, a practiced hand in such matters, had thoughtfully
stationed two large men halfway down the muddy alley that led from
Olfert Dapper’s rear door to the street. Both men carried heavy
bludgeons, which twitched very slightly as they waited, like the
tails of stalking cats. Dr. Dapper never hesitated at the sight of
them, but walked slowly forward, one hand held up in a sign of
hopeless surrender, which his shamed-spaniel expression mirrored. The
other arm hung limply at his side, as though he had forgotten the
battered valise dangling at the end of it. The two bullies grinned at
each other, anticipating quick remuneration from their employer and
an early night at Fat Mina’s on the Zuilenstraat. They even glanced
momentarily over Dr. Dapper’s shoulder, calling their triumph to
the beadle as he lumbered through the open back door. This was a
mistake.

Olfert
Dapper disapproved of running on both general and practical
principles, but in a real sense his entire life had been made up of
exceptions to rules. He was almost on the beadle’s men when his
forlorn shuffle turned into a sprinter’s burst from the blocks. He
swatted one half-raised club away with his valise, simultaneously
kicked the second man reprehensibly low, and lunged between them to
race away down the alley. The beadle shouted to him to come back, but
Dr. Dapper could not believe that he was truly serious.

He
was briefly impressed with his own turn of speed, since he had not
had to flee physical attack since his earliest youth. Unfortunately,
he had not bargained for his pursuers’ endurance and determination.
Hulking they were, and stupid they undoubtedly were; but they saw Fat
Mina’s slipping away, and they came pounding tirelessly after a
plump middle-aged man. He could not lose them. His breath was coming
hard now, and he began to be afraid.

For more info on THE OVERNEATH, visit the Tachyon page.

Cover design by Elizabeth Story