Part One Of One
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Tonight we introduce a new character to the line up, Joe Monk, Emperor Of Space. In this episode we see some of Joe's humble beginnings, in a time before his ascension to the throne.
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015 - Joe Monk, Emperor Of Space - The Music Library, Part 1 of 1
[ Music ] Welcome to FlashPulp episode 15. Tonight's story is an entry in the adventures of Joe Monk, Emperor of Space, entitled The Music Library, Part 1 of 1. This evening's episode is inspired in part by shun.net. Ever wondered how a relatively mild-mannered writer might be compelled to join an international group of religious cellots, only to be expelled from a foreign nation after threatening to bomb a major airline? Find William shun's memoir, The Accidental Terrorist, and much more, at shunshunnn.net. [ Music ] FlashPulp is an experiment in broadcasting fresh pulp stories in the modern age, 400 to 600 words brought to you Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. Tonight, we introduce a new character to the lineup, Joe Monk, Emperor of Space. In this episode, we see some of Joe's humble beginnings in a time before his ascension to the throne. [ Music ] Adventures of Joe Monk, Emperor of Space, The Music Library, Part 1 of 1. Written by J.R.D. Skinner, Art and Narration Biopoponax, and Audio Produced by Jessica May. [ Music ] Joe Monk was laying tracks across the great big black, and at the heart of his U.S. steel nest, he was rocking out. Given that his speed approximated that of light, it was difficult to see him coming. Still, before takeoff, many had remarked that the ship looked like nothing so much as an egg, balanced atop a Lego brick. Monk himself was unaware of this. He had been but an infant at the time of liftoff. His ride was powered by a thousand mile wide force net, maintained by computers capable of hundreds of calculations a second. The ship utilized the sagant effect to cause thrust, dropping tiny universal nuclei in its wake, seeds that immediately burst into small bangs. The leading edges of these universes were caught up in the ship's net, forcing the craft through the emptiness like a rising tide before they collapsed under the crushing counter pressure of the energy absorbent mesh. By the age of 19, he'd grown quite bored with the ship's catalog of music. He'd spent too many long evenings crawling the tape library from end to end. Even the 200 hours that must have seen endless to the ground researchers could not say to him. Still, with no alternative, he often found himself listlessly shuffling the spools just for background noise until even his beloved Edwin Star was wearing thin. At the age of 22, he'd forced an embargo on himself and reprogram the music library's door to lock for six months. It was two weeks before his 24th birthday when he finally spotted the typo in the punch card source code, a bug that would leave the door locked, not six months, but six years. So he waited. Time passed, slowly. He spent more time in the movie room, rewatching Astaire and Rogers Flix. He'd like them well enough, but he'd wish the music librarian had talked more with the film librarian as the two seemed universes apart. By the time he was 28, he'd fallen heavily into what had been originally intended as the bulk of the ship's entertainment, the microfilm library. He was wandering the halls, the telescopic end of a portable reader held to one eye when he heard a thick metallic click. Setting aside the tale about a lippy detective, he cocked an ear. He knew the rhythmic hum of the engine, the gentle fuzz of the life support and air conditioners, the tick-tack of the automated help and repair drones that occasionally took a shortcut through his area on their way to the functional portion of the ship. But this sound was wholly new to him. It did not repeat. It took him the better part of the afternoon poking around the hallway in and around vents, tapping on walls, entering and exiting supply closets and half-forgotten spaces, usually full of children's toys, before he unthinkingly tried the door to the music library. It popped open at his touch. The tears of a religious experience began to roll down his cheeks. He stepped into the room and sank into the leather rolling chair. He hefted the headphones, readjusted their size, then pulled the thickly padded o's over his ears. His fingers worked for muscle memory, cracking the canister and lacing up the dual reels. At a high brassy volume, Edwin Star opined on war and it's worth. Joe began to rock out. Unheard over the roar, the computer spoke aloud for the first time in four years, delivering the words its occupant had been waiting to hear for nearly 30. Touchdown in T minus three days, six hours, 12 minutes, 41 seconds, and counting. [MUSIC PLAYING] Flashpulp is presented by HTTP colon slash slash skinner.fm. The audio and text formats of Flashpulp are released under the Canadian Creative Commons attribution non-commercial 2.5 license. [MUSIC PLAYING] [MUSIC PLAYING] [MUSIC PLAYING] (upbeat music)