Good evening and welcome to Night's Gallery. Thank you, Rod, and I
want to welcome everyone to Midnight Viewing, where once a month we talk all
about your follow up to the Twilight Zone, Rod Serling's Night Gallery. They
say it's Rod through Ling's Night Gallery, and it isn't really Rod through Las
Night Gallery. It's somebody else's. Oh we know, we talk about it
a lot. Your curators at Midnight Viewing are the projection booths. Mike White,
What can happen to human beings when trust is wiped out by suspicion and
culture casts? Chris Stashue, small boy incased in the Crystal Ball, and
I'm father Malone, the kind of thing that usually infest nightmares, joined us
monthly at Midnight Viewing. The Night Gallery podcast at weird Ingwaymedia dot Com doesn't
remotely belong to me. I have no proprietary interest in that at all.
Weird Welcome to Dark Destinations, an ongoing investigation into the shadowy corners of the
globe, where our haunted past meets our startling future. Ego City Express is
now arriving Platform Lane. Stand clear of the doors, Welcome aboard the Rocket
Railroad. Hold still for your authorization scam works. Thank you, citizens say
or thank you. Please throw all weapons and values. All passengers must stand
for an imperial hollow film attention. All citizens know this. You are privileged
for you share the same celestial sphere as the Grand and Exalted Emperor Ning the
Magnificent, and know as well that his Excellency's kingdom is the pre eminent of
any galactic system. Mongo, our beloved planet, teams with incalculable species across
continents, representative of every possible and even improbable ecosystems, and the lands themselves
are rule when the many try of Mongo fears proud and territorial, each striving
to overcome one another, to grind them beneath their heels in claim triumph,
but not for themselves, for the Emperor, for our world. No matter
your trime, no matter your allegiance, no matter the wars you've waged with
others, you are citizens of Mongo. First, Mongo. There has never
been, nor will there be, a more glorious planet. The mere whisper
of its name sets known space to trembling Mongol, the usurper, Mongo,
the destroyer, Mongo, the scourge, unbounded by the puny gravitational pull of
any star we encamp in whatsoever system, we deign'd grace with our presence and
woe unto its insignificant inhabitants, not merely because our ary might is insurmountable,
but also as an unattainable ideal. How can any civilization continue to thrive knowing
they can never be mongo All, hail me? Two decades we've been seeing
the same propaganda hollow film. You think they make a new one. I
should be used to it, given how often I find myself aboard the Rock
and Railroad. Should welcome it, in fact, given that once it's ended,
the journey will begin and I'll be free of it until the next time
I travel. But it's always served to irritate me. Maybe it's the tone,
the snarl behind the grin, stoking conflict among the tribes while assuring us
that all will be well thanks to imperial benevolence. It's bad comedy. The
train will be departing Deep Box Station momentary for Mingo City, with stops in
Gordon, Magnetic Mountain and Catello. Mingo City the Rocket Railroad's final destination,
but not mine. From there, I'll need to find conveyance to the Sea
of Mysteries coast where the Mingo Mountains meet Arboream. My contact will meet me
there, a man named Blander. I've been charged with documenting a growing movement's
first tottering steps toward independence or perhaps insurrection. They haven't shared just how they
intend to achieve such a goal, whether their revolution will be culturally, politically,
or, as I suspect, militarily, but they have requested me as
a chronicler. It's an appealing assignment, far more appealing than any in recent
memory, as hospitable as Queen Fria has been. I am overjoyed to be
gone of Phrygia and its inexhaustible legions of ice warriors. Their powers are quite
formidable, to be sure, but they are a ponderous boring lot. One
more moment among them, and I risked permanent mental trauma. I wouldn't be
able to spell enthusiasm, never mind mustering and beginning entertainment protocol. I've begun
to feel useless in my position of late, but this assignment, it has
reinvigorated me in a way I haven't felt since since they started bombarding us with
that mango hollow film. All passengers must be seated. Please engage magna highness.
Border towns have always fascinated me. They're technically part of the kingdom in
which they reside, in this case Arborea, while simultaneously feeling as if they
are their own separate nation. Rules of law seemed looser in them. But
whatever danger that entails is offset by a true commingling of culture. Traitors from
every continent converge in port cities like this one, bringing with them exotic goods,
fabrics and points of view. The rest of Mongo's kingdoms could learn something
from them that foreign influence need not be feared, that another's viewpoint might be
equally valid. What better place could there be to start a chronicle of potential
independence? Now, if I could only find my contact. You seem lost,
friend, A better loss than a drift that makes you the lander.
Let us away. Yes, you seem to be drawing attention. A karrallium
on the coast is not common, but the Mingoes citizen gomed in a Phrygian
ice frock would be a pecure with your sight in any kingdom. I suggest
you remove it. My apologies, it comes a second skin if you spend
any time out of the waists. We're not their friend. I hadn't thought
such an admonition would be necessary, but you do understand that discretion is paramount
in this endeavor. Without question, and then I'll say no more of it?
Would you hold still a moment? I apologize, but one can't be
too careful. I'm not armed or that much. I could tell just from
looking at you. What I could not see is if you had secreted a
homing beacon on your person or in it. Clitus's Secret Police have taken to
surgically implanting them. You know I did not. That's innovative. The wicked
almost always are. Those were Imperial rockets, I doubt on routine patrol.
But where you find one, others will follow. Let's not risk being here
when they do. We've got quite a journey ahead. Luckily I've procured the
transport. You don't expect me to ride one. I must admit I prefer
fins to feet. But these are magnificent beasts, perfectly suited to our needs.
Okay, I just don't trust any animal with more than four legs.
There mustn't be much a mongol you put faith in. How sad, but
I assure you where we're going, those dozen legs will be most useful.
He seems fond of you, saytor, you think so, No, you
may want to losing your grip a bit there. I'm surprised we haven't seen
any Arborians. You wouldn't rest assured of age seeing us. He passed an
entire troop of them, A thousand should expect we did. How did you
do you think? I can ask you some questions, Belander, that is
your purpose, though several and are band object to your presence? Asked,
But no, I will not discuss my confederates, or their tribes, or
the mission we even joined. Then it's many tribes involved, careful of men.
That was an observation, not a question. This is a question.
How was it that a Corelian, a race that and forgive me if I'm
generalizing, is known for living most of their lives so far below the ocean
surface that daylight can't penetrate, finds himself so adapt in the forests of Arboria.
Adapt. I suppose, I am you realize there are villages on land,
people by my kind that dot the whole of the West coast. There
are more dry land Corralians than rockmen on this continent. Well, that's not
much of an attainment. I disagree in our father's agent, who has been
on the hood of true I must admit I'm shocked that there are as many
of you on land. As you say progress, it marches forward with unstoppable
force. So you grew up in one of these villages, good Lord?
No, I'm pure blood Corralian, raised among the guilt beds that flourish in
the shadow of Queen Undina's palace. You have a large family or school.
They're called a swell. My how little the kingdoms know of each other and
know I'm the last of my swell. I saw the rest perish in the
wall of King Karla and his hateful shock you fought in the maritime wars.
I I've served in Untina's army since probably before you were born. You might
why I'm so adept. I was a member of the Cerulean Order, an
infiltration squad trained to adapt to any environment. Arboria is no more challenging a
land than the jungles of the Tropica or the Sea of Fire. Will leach
me to prove useful. Now, the Sea of Fire so that's where we're
adding you're a wild one seed or and I talk too much, It isn't
much further. Yeah, we've arrived at a clearing, and as much as
there's less of a tangle of undergrowth, a semi circle that will say is
about thirty cheddings wide. We're deep in the ancient growth. Now, the
trees millennia old. Given how lush the vegetation is here on the floor,
you'd think the sun shone endlessly, but it's a murky twilight. Owing to
the unseen canopy of trees. You'd break your neck craning in an vane attempt
to see the tops of them. Mercifully fingers of light, sharp as an
octoshac's claws, stabbed down through the boughs and proliferate in all directions, and
what they illuminate is bewildering. Belander has joined his compatriots. I was certain
there'd be a failings of hardened warriors, or, barring that, at least
a clutch of dithering bureaucrats. But only three, and they vary wildly in
tribal allegiance. Blander, as you know, is Corralian from the submerged kingdom
deep in the sea of mystery. He's standing the site an Ardentian from the
expanse of Savannah, just west of the Emperor's palace. I must confess I've
never been so close to his kind as I am at this moment. He
has brilliant green eyes set deep in leonine features that seem both fierce and amused,
and his feline ears twitched every sound that the forest emits. Rounding out
this curious trio is unmistakably a hawk man, even with his wings pulled tight
to his back. They form an imposing silhouette known to strike fear in every
kingdow odd to see these warriors neither posturing nor snapping each other's spines. Odd
are still that there isn't an Arborean present? Yeah, who is this trespasser
in my kingdom? Vianna. Perhaps you remember our resolution to have a chronicler
present, a resolution I denounced, Yes, that one, And as an
addendum, it should be that we don't hold a blade to our guest's throat.
You never said he'd be ming and shrilled. He's imperial. His presence
here is folly, fear, not green. One. If he so much
as thinks favorably of ming Lah, another notch in my war club. Weapons
down, my apologies said, or not mine. You are most welcome among
us. I am Trilling of the Royal Pride of Valadier Pleasure. They lander.
You know, Vianna is our angry host here in Arborea. Don't confuse
anger with rage. Trilling this most jolly belligerent. No one introduces me.
I am Hannah, father to Luna, father in laws of principles and himself.
And I've eviscerated Mingians by the score. Once I flew from the Magnetic
mountains to the Sea of Fire, carrying two dozen Imperial shop troops in tow.
What did you do with them? I ain't the charming, which leaves
only gaff And where might he be? She is above you? Hello,
up there, you're too far. We can't hear you, I said,
lower your voice, understood, I am sorry. He stopped breathing on me.
Careful, young chronicler. Even a fearsome bird like me would be loath
to offend us thy carry, in which I pray I haven't. I'm said
yes later, Phrygia, you stink of hollow root and fear. Then we're
well met. Yes, get on with it, trillig We're still vulnerable,
even this deep in the wood. We're each of us far too well versed
in Ming's ability to maintain control over Mungo. His gambit of pinning our tribes
against one another is all too effective. But beneath that he has sown seeds
of fear of his military might, that his reach and strength is without measure,
convincing the entire populace that even the slim prospect of the kingdoms uniting against
him would fare no better than a solitary soldier beset by his most lethal legions.
But we know that is a lie, that by year number we could
overwhelm him. It is that knowledge that brings us here today. Chronicle's really
even he knows these things. But what he, and by extension, all
of you, do not know, is that that threat of superior force is
becoming a reality. If we don't act soon, Ming will possess a power
that could wipe us out within days if not ours. Our contact in Clydas's
Secret Police has shared that Ming is pursuing construction of a nitron lamp possible can
be forgive my ignorance, what is a nitron lamp the end of it all,
a device that would allow him to control and focus the natural world as
a weapon seismic shifts, tidal waves, volcanic eruption, and not just here
on Mango. Given the proper focusing lens, he could decimate entire systems without
committing a single soul to ground assault. It's an unholy fusion of the technological
and the mystical arts. Remind me which kingdom deals in such magic. Watch
your mouth of Borian if you value having one. That is no denial.
I know not which insignificant deities reign over your kingdoms, but the great goddess
Psyche is ventul above all. No secarian would dare collaborate with Ming, knowing
what awaits them and a year after, and even if one would risk an
eternity of torment, That person is not me. Any of your tribes might
have done that enough. Cap speaks true. This is not her doing,
and our incessant squabbling is what Ming wants. We're here for nobler purpose.
Friends. If Ming is creating a nitron lamp, the question before us is
not how can this be? It is how do we stop him? We
must travel west of Ardentia to the coast. Ming has a facility there that
is assembling the device. We must destroy it. We five six, indeed
a patrol. There'll be gyro planes. We have little time. Very well,
scatter, you know your escape routes meet at the rendezvous point by midday,
no later. Good luck with me, young chronicler. He'll slow you
down, Hannock, and we cannot risk our best pilot. Very well,
No matter the outcome of this mission, you must make clear to all the
citizens of Mongo the importance of one thing. You've nothing to fear. Soon
all will know of this new web. What oh, fine, fine,
just so long as they all know. Hannak Wolf killed and devoured two dozen
of Ming's shock troops. Ha. Now let's see how a depth I am
said? Or mount up? Do you have an astrolabe? I do.
I'm transmitting the running FOO coordinates. If I should fall, join the others
only after you sure Ming soldiers have lost your trail. I think the foliage
is too dense for them to land. That is irrelevant. If they catch
us on their thermals, they can triangulate our route and repel down to stop
us. If we're lucky, they are Scout ships and normally have a compliment
of two troopers. If not, then these plants will drink ming and blood.
They're firing blind, but they're upon us. Are they scouts? A
last? No? Whoa? Whoa? Why are we stopping? I'll not
dyeing a saddle when the shooting begins, you fleet, the geners will circle
the firefight. If we're lucky, they will not take note of you as
you slip away. Surely the group needs you more than me. This is
madness. I but we live in an age of madness, and all of
Mango must know of our attempts to stop it. You are invaluable, sayd
all, take my pistol and do what if they find you? Shoot,
evade and escape. Repeat that, shoot, evade and escape, good man.
I will delay them as long as I might. Unarmed a sword a
puny word for such a bears weather, they have ray guns. They have
moments to live. Come here, girl, you've been a most excellent steed.
Whatever erection, she runs the door, you go the opposite. Don't
let them see yeah. Do now for Ralia, for Mongo, have we
unmoored the stone wol? Are the fuel lines uncoupled? They are well what
a shock. The Mingan survives in ambush by Ming's forces alone, whereas Blander
was he captured. I did the outcome, but from his demeanor, I'd
say he fell in combat. Don't believe a word Trilling. He's a traitor
and he's not getting on this rocket. But Lander trusted me, possibly died
protecting me. You dishonor him with your constant accusations. Vianna, Oh,
I believe you and Prince Barren and I are engaged to be married. You
simply must attend the ceremony. You don't believe me. Believe this. From
the shooting begins, you'll flee. The generals will circle the firefight. If
we're lucky, they will not take note of you with you slip a waiste,
Mingan treachery. If you're done squatting like humbly flegements out there, we
have a mission after you. I'm not turning my back on you. Mingan,
then follow me or stay here. So far, your only talent seems
to be hiding or fleeing you. Fil We are leaving with or without either
of you. Do you need a co pilot? I do not, but
sit, young mother, This rocket is nothing compared to the ones you're used
to, I'm sure, but she is a damn fine bird like me.
Strubbing my flightless friends, We're ready. Goodbye, a boiler, I will
not miss you. Have you been to the Kingdom of the Hawkman once briefly
in my youth, and you've dreamed of it ever since. The vast,
burdened landscape of Arboria has fallen away beneath us as this band of warriors ascends
into the heavens. But even darker shrouded green lies ahead, and the untamed
jungles, What in the name of Avia are you doing, oh barnegling?
My apologies to the east, the clouds are a brilliant hue of scorched yellow,
reflecting the endless terrain of the great Mongo Desert. Below, to our
north is a range of mountains standing sentry for the land of sight that rests
beyond them. Those mountaintops are veiled in angry storm clouds, pulsating blue and
red and purple. Thank Tower headed west to the lands beyond Ardentia, nowhere
near those swirling clouds, where even Mongo's best pilots fear to fly. It
said that fire dragons are known to lie in wait within, and if legend
holds true, unknown vortices can appear at random, sending rockets like this one
into far flung parts of the galaxy. Will soon know you mean? Forgive
me say door. It's bad form to interrupt story time. But there are
two things I must interject. First, although it's very clear that you are
a chronicle of the first order, I find it an odd occupation for an
able bodied man of your age, With the sheer amount of skulls crying out
to be shattered in every quarner of Mongo, I find your career choice to
be what's the word distasteful? No? Well, yes, but that's not
how I quite describe it. Misguided, Hey, shameful? Ah, there
it is. See as I said, first order? What was the second
thing? Trillig is a cagey old cat and cautious. He was not assured
of everyone's allegiance, still isn't as far as I can tell. And while
his plan is indeed to destroy Ming's factory, its location is nowhere near Ardentia
or the western coast. Would it was so rather riskirmishing with the entire Imperial
fleet that barreling into the Princess de Carrio's kingdom can't be serious? Do I
see ma jovial salt to you? Actually? Yes, you must admit there's
something inherently funny about a man with wings flying through the sky inside a rocket.
We'll see how amused you are when we pludge into the fearsome storm clouds.
If only you had one of Mongo's best pilots of controls attention to Ben,
this is Bungo Air committed. Transmit crap again immediately or you will be
disit degraded. Time to go, young chronicler. Twenty Air command is calling,
and you don't want me answering, head to the back. Sador,
what do they hear? For yourself? We repeat, Vianna Trader is wretched.
I know you don't trust me, but I'd like to change your mind.
If I could, I sit. You may not, then I'll stand.
You must know that generations to come or want to hear this chronicle,
and they'll want to know the stories of its participants. My story, absolutely,
what would you like to know? I hadn't really thought of any details
to share. I'm no chronicler, that is why I'm here. I did,
however, think of a title. Would that be an interest a title
for your chapter? Yes, of course, I'm a simple woman, so
a simple title will do. I was thinking how to disembowel a mingan spy.
Well, I could see that being very popular. I blisten. You
may sit beside me, say door, you see that the cy carion,
which is more manner than you and apparently less discriminating. Look, gaff,
you're still thinking about the moment I materialized beside you. You're terrifying. You
know that I do sit down. You have questions so many you wish to
hear my tale of woe, the spark of tragedy perpetrated on me by being
the merciless. Being the merciless, I like that. It's appropriate, it
is truth. Yes, I want to know all of that. But first
I have a logistical question. Why, if I can transmit matter through space,
are we now traveling by rocket and not simply there at the nitron lamps
place of construction. It's not a bad question, gap such a feat is
possible. All is possible through the power of the great Goddess sych. But
there are difficulties, are there always? The span is far too great for
accuracy. We could as soon materialize in the sea of fire as the factory.
But even if I could overcome this, the spell bleeds my essence to
send we six such a distance would surely kill me. As it was that
Paltry jumped from the Arborean tree tops to the floor beside. You took days
from my life? Why did you do it trying to impress me? Mingan's
always such high regard for yourselves. It is that assumption of supremacy that brought
me here. Do you know much of Sagarian Way? Clearly not enough.
I know it's not common that you're born into the religion and trained in its
arts from burial. My lineage in the Order of sych goes back to the
very dawn of time itself. My ancestors built the temple that stood as a
beacon in the heights of Raymond Peak. From its spires one could see the
whole of the eastern coast. In the harvest season, you could see as
far as Tropica, and if you were to ascend its minarets thousand steps,
you would find little separating you from the stars themselves. Oh, my friends,
we entered the storm clouds. The hawkmen think they rule the skies of
mongol, but their eyes are always on the ground below. My people,
my family have always held nobler intent. We seek communion with the cosmos.
How I yearn for that temple, for the wild winds of the upper atmosphere,
and the starlight so luminous that lidded eyes could not dampen its brilliance.
But that is passed. Mings. Scientists sought an outpost in my kingdom,
one from which they could observe all the stones of the temple, carried their
aeons go with much effort and loss of life by my kind, who were
blown away to atoms in a manner of moments. What is that proximity of
our Something is approaching something big. Don't look so frightened, said door.
This mission with our tribes united is a righteous one, and the righteous should
fear nothing before dragon power up the melting rains, Religo, it's damaged the
weapon control, get fire, hold the friends and pray. Get it off
as panic. Shut your love to meet dwell, Leave the skies to me,
electrify the whole. We're away, repuire the rocket. The power selves
are God. I'm gor save us a we're falling right, Goddess, hear
me. Though I am unworthy, I am your instrument, and I go
joyously into the next world that you are command for psych for Mongol. End
of Part one. This episode of Dark Destinations was written and produced by Father
Malone and feature performances by Match schafured In, Dakota Sky, and Antonio Yapoor.
Original music by HP Music, Opening theme by Darren Curtis. Until next
time, may all your travels lead to dark destinations.