-The next contestant on our show, Tall Tropes!-

Ken traveled for a long time after his release from the Anktonin prison. He did not call home much or spend much time at each of his stops. The only thing new to his life was his semi-regular contact with his sister. Even this is just a distant truth that has resurfaced. Neither of them remembered exactly what drove such a wedge between them, so much time had passed that the memory faded from them both. The only person who would remember would be their father, and he would never speak of it again.

He traveled in his sister’s general direction faster than anything logically explained, magic shielded his ship as it hopped through space in warps. There was always a cooldown period between warps, when Ken would lose himself in the endless expanse in front of him, not aware of anything around him. In his hypnosis, he failed to notice the small blinking red light on the far right of his dashboard. This light was a rear proximity encroachment meter that blinked in exceedingly few circumstances. Ken was docked, and his ship sabotaged by an unknown invisible gas that knocked Ken out cold.    

Ken woke up with his head laid on a desk and his arms wrapped around it. He felt as if he just got the best sleep of his life. After he sat up, he looked around; he was immensely confused by what he saw. The more he investigated the metal desks, poor lighting, and his terrible grungy trench coat, the more confused he got. There were multiple heavy desks, all of which were littered with paper and binders, or folders full of more paper He fumbled around the large, dimly lit room, as his shoes made noise every time he moved. He recognized the language written on random files as one his father taught in many lessons, an old language that is no longer spoken anywhere in the universe. It originated billions of years ago, from somewhere long gone.

“Inspector!” The voice that shouted into the empty room startled Ken, and he looked all around him for the source of the shout. His eyes landed on a round face that stuck out of a random office previously locked. “What are you doing? Get over here!” Ken looked around despite knowing the room was empty, other than them. He walked slowly to the office. The other man huffed loudly and swung his door open wide, as he made his way to the other side of the room.

“Yes?” was all Ken said as he remained close to the open doorway. The man who had called him over had moved behind a large desk, and had two hands planted in front of him. He supported a dramatic lean while he stood, his chair carelessly pushed aside.

“Yes? That sarcasm boy?! I tell you, I thought I was going to have to wake you up! If you are going to stay late, then work!” the man shouted from behind his desk. He also supported a heavy trench coat, but it was a lot less dingy than Ken’s.

“I have no idea what you are talking about.” Ken said earnestly. He remained close to the door, but his companion looked preoccupied. Ken was immensely confused by the events of the past ten minutes.

“Slick Stevens, very slick, as always.”  The man behind the desk was still angry, shouting his words into the small room.

“Stev—what is this? Who are you? My name is Ken!” Ken remained calm, but confused, as he spoke to the angry man.  

“What are you?! A fashionista now? There is murder and you want to play victim of being over-worked!” The man shouted, but his voice faded away, as another overpowered it, though neither the angry captain nor Ken could hear the voice that overpowered theirs.

“Well!” A long drown out and embellished voice called out.

“Here we have it folks! Our first real live human seems to be almost as confused as our other contestants!” A second voice rang out, as two completely new aliens appeared, sitting behind a broadcasting desk, the scene before being displayed on a large screen behind the two.

“We can at least have it on good authority, now that we have stumbled onto this goldmine in today’s Trojan Tropes!” The first voice spoke up again; the transitions between the two speakers seemed seamless.

“Yes, my wise companion, as we have found someone who utterly understands this complex ancient language!” The second voice spoke up again. The smooth voice belonged to a four-armed creature with a small tuft of bright orange hair above its two eyes.

“Yet lacks knowledge of its hidden tropes!” The first voice belonged to a slightly smaller creature of the same species; it had a neater tuft of bright yellow hair in the same place as the second.

“Let us get back to the show now! It seems our contestant has been convinced to go investigate the strange murder!” The second voice ended as Ken exited the apparent police station. Ken threw his hands in the air, turned around, and headed inside, right back to the captain.

“It is raining! There are horses out there!” Ken shouted dramatically.

“You will go to the saloon right now, or so help me I will disgrace you in front of the entire village!” The man screamed back at Ken.

“Really? I am not into that public shaming business. I’ll just go as you ask.” Ken mumbled as he turned out of the heavily clad man’s room. Ken was grateful for the thick leather he wore on his thighs, as he tried to figure out how to climb onto a horse. He had seen them over a billion years ago, but never had he ridden one. Maybe he had, and just forgotten it in that span of time since he last had the chance to ride one. Ken took the horse to what was clearly labeled as a saloon a few blocks down. At this point, he just let the horse take him there.

“Oh, Stevens! Thank god you are here!” A woman cried out, as Ken entered the bar. He did not correct her.

“Where is this body?” Ken said plainly. The woman swooned; Ken had to catch her, so she did not fall to the ground. Her low-cut dress was layered and dingy like his own clothing. When it became apparent this was more about her putting her breasts in his face than him saving a fall, he put her down in a chair where she slumped forward. This once again dramatized her boobs, and Ken was simply baffled as to why a woman who is seeking help would act this way.

“I’m going to need you to get a hold of yourself, and please tell me where the body is.” Ken said, confused as to why he was suddenly playing along with this crazy scenario.

“Second room to the right, at the top of the stairs. I’ll show you.” The woman said as she stood back up.

“No, I think I can handle this alone.” Ken assured her. He beat her to the stairs, but she still followed behind him as he made his way into the room. On the bed, there was a half-dressed woman, modestly covered up with blankets. The body was still, and it was clear the body was drained of blood, as it was very pale.

“I covered the body up, I hope that’s okay, felt like modesty would be appreciated.” The woman said as, even though she let her own modesty go out the window, the way she tried to hang on to Ken as he looked over the crime scene.

“This could only have been done by a Gurinun. That fluid-lovin race will drain anything it encounters.” Ken spoke aloud to himself.

“You heard it here folks! Watch out for these Gurinun when you go about your travels!” The first announcer’s voice came out loud and clear over the scene of Ken searching the room for clues.

“I am simply ecstatic that our contestant has taken over his role so fluidly now!” The second announcer slipped in his words just after the first one finished, and gave the cameras recording them a big smile with the mouth located in the center of its body.

“That is right Silva, our friend can be seen scouring the room beyond for anything to lead him to our third theme. From then on, he will be left to his own devices!” The first announcer said cheerfully.

“So true my friend! Breaking news now though, as we are putting out a vote now for the public!” Silva, the creature with the neat tuft of blonde hair just above its two very deep-set eyes, interjected.

“Vote now on if we should give him a hint on the third theme!” The first announcer spoke up excitedly, as it stretched its lower two arms and bobbed up and down dramatically.

“As always, the vote stays open until enough of you vote to close the voting!” Silva laughed as it passed the dialogue over to their partner.

“Only one vote per household! Yes, No, or close vote!”  The broadcast resumed with Ken leaving the room with the body. The audio was so crisp, that the people watching Ken’s actions thought he wore a microphone. The show was popular enough to have the masses reading subtitles.

“Where is this Mr. Jinkens that rented out this room yesterday?” Ken asked enthusiastically, as he descended the stairs. Ken had come to believe he was sent here for a purpose; he spent much of his time with other people helping them, so he felt in his element while hunting criminals.

“Well inspector, he is the town psychiatrist. Everyone here goes to see him, just some people are more ashamed of it than others.” The woman said, as she indicated back to the room. Before the woman could understand what Ken was doing, he had put on the hat he had left on a table downstairs and marched out into the rain. He got onto his horse, who had remained outside in the rain, without being tied up. Ken did nothing after his struggle to mount the horse, and as he suspected, the horse took him straight to the psychiatrist’s office.

The rain poured off his hat in a way that almost entranced him. The pause in this simple action caused a surge in ‘close the vote’ votes, as the vote was in favor of providing Ken the hint. It was universal to them that cowboy hats were awesome, and honest dramatic pauses emphasizing one were very endearing. Truth is, Ken was experiencing it with his audience because never remembered having worn such an outfit before.

Ken dismounts and heads up to the door. When he tries to open the door, it is locked, but his horse took him there, so Ken gave an obligatory knock. After the door was opened by a lightly disheveled man. Ken bowed his head. In the process, he poured a generous amount of water onto the man’s feet. This action caused a surge in no votes. Ken cringed, and took off his hat, as the psychiatrist opened the door all the way and invited him inside.

“What can I do for you inspector, at my reading hour?”  The doctor spoke up clearly as Ken made his way inside.

“You can call me Ken.” He said, as he took off his coat and refused to move due to how wet he was.

“Why?” The doctor asked in a drawn-out tone.

“Fair point. I want to know about the room you rented at the saloon recently.” Ken pressed, he searched for signs on non-human behavior in the Doctor’s actions. Besides the environment around him that seemed Alien to him, everyone around him had acted very human.

“I do not need to divulge information pertaining to my work.”  The Doctor insisted, directing Ken out of the entryway.

“If you were there for work, then you can appreciate the fact your client is dead.” Ken said plainly; he already suspected the Doctor, so he planned to lay into him hard.

“Who, praytell, is dead.” The Doctor gasped, a little out of breath as he dropped into his seat.

“Guinevere Silverlane. She lays dead in the saloon’s second room at this very moment.” Ken proclaimed. He paced rhythmically, listening to his boots and speaking in sync with their noise.

“Non-sense, I have no reason to kill that young lady, or anyone for that matter!” The Doctor defended himself, still short of breath.

“You killed that child because you are Gurinun scum!” Ken’s proclamation was enough to tip the voting scale towards the favor of the hint once again, as the scary Alien trope was not voted on this week, so its target audience was elsewhere.

“That woman was no child, my dear friend. You know this the same as, since you have slept with her yourself, same as has half this town.” The Doctor proposed.

“Preposterous, I would do no such thing.” Ken explained.

“You are the one who is confused Stevens, please calm down and have a seat, I have time. Tell me of the Gurinun.” The Doctor spoke calmly.

“They drain fluids from anything that’s remotely alive. They don’t have much beyond a predatorial brain.” Ken explained while taking a seat as the Doctor suggested.

“Do I really seem so inhuman.” The doctor said as he indicated to himself.

“No… but I have no other explanation for a drained dead girl.” Ken concluded.

“Well, I have one if you are willing to listen.” The Doctor responded. He leaned forward, and the scene faded. The announcers voice took over again as they faded into view.

“There we are! The vote is in!” The second announcer shouted in a fever.

“Oh Mart! The hint is revealed to our contestant!” Silva announced, and confetti of every color dropped around the strange dramatic creatures.  

“The third theme is being revealed to him in great detail as we speak!” Mart exclaimed.

“Also revealed to our viewers as—” Silva started speaking but Mart joined in for “Vampires! Our hidden theme of the week!” Silva then continued solo again. “It seems our SiFi fans were not present today, because the Alien theme proposed by our contestant was rejected by the viewers themselves!”

“A conclusion must be reached!” Mart pronounced proudly.

“Who killed Guinevere Silverlane? Tonight’s episode’s themes revealed now as western, noir, and vampire!” Silva projected its voice dramatically, as the cameras panned back to Ken, newly educated on the ways of basic vampire lore.

“You are insane, that sounds alien, not human.” Ken shook his head slowly.

“You are mistaken, aliens do not exist.” The Doctor stated plainly.  

“Now I know you are nuts, and the killer.” Ken confirmed, with little patience left. Ken had nothing that he could prove to bring the Doctor in for official questioning, and had gained no further leads, so he headed back to the station. Once he arrived, his captain came barreling out of his office to confront him.

“What are you doing back without a suspect!?” His Captain yelled loudly in Ken’s face.

“I need someone to take care of the body at the hotel.” Ken explained calmly.

“You take care of it. Go back now and take care of the body, or so help me I’ll have you crucified next Tuesday.” The captain kept his tone angry the entire way through. Ken expected him to crack under the stress and start laughing at himself. Ken did not say anything else. He left the drab office, and back out into the rain. Once again Ken made his way into the empty saloon, soaking wet. The woman from before greeted him in an overzealous manner.

“Oh Inspector, welcome back.” She doted politely. She was at his side quickly, and seemed to have guessed why he was back, already leading Ken upstairs to the second room. Ken was unsure if the woman acted more lewd  before, or if she was worse now. She hung onto his arm in a way he found inappropriate. She acted scared of the dead body now.  When they entered the room, the body was gone. There was a small blood stain around where the victims head had been, but no victim.

“Did you move this body?!” Ken proclaimed as he wrestled his arm free of the clingy waitress.

“No sir! I’m just as terrified as you sir!” The woman yelped. She used this as another excuse to press herself against Ken. He wormed free yet again, and paced the disturbed crime scene to avoid the provocative woman.

“There is only one logical resolution to this, given the logic provided within this delusion at least.” Ken stated loudly to the messy room.

“What is that sir?” The woman asked, her hands hovered around her chest as she addressed him.

“You are covering it up!” Ken asserted over his companion.

“Why would you accuse me of such? For what reason would I do this sir?” The woman pleaded, pulling on the front of her dress.

“No woman acts the way you are right now without a reason, not in real life. Classic distraction technique. May have worked on me long ago, but not now.” Ken admitted.

“Where would Guinevere be then?” the woman questioned, almost sarcastically. The change in her demeanor alarmed Ken.

“You tell me!” Ken matched her sarcasm and raised her hand gestures.

“You can’t prove anything!” The woman bobbed her head as she challenged Ken. Ken left the room in a hurry and marched downstairs. He went over to the main counter and grabbed a wine glass that sat out in the open.

“Put that down, it’s personal property!” The woman had followed close behind Ken and protested his interest.

“Is this yours?” Ken asked as he sniffed the wine. Intrigued by the smell, he drank the small amount that remained. “Mmm… I’m impressed, quite delicious.” 

“That was the last of the bottle,” the woman groaned.

“Why are you drinking?” Ken pondered. He attempted to look for the bottle, but she must have already disposed of it.

“Found a dead body today, a girl I’ve- we grew up with. I think a drink is understandable.” The woman explained as her voice softened.

“Maybe, but I did not grow up here, wherever this is.” Ken asked as he remembered his odd situation for a moment.

“Well this is the west, dear,” was the woman’s response.

“The west of what? Give me a planet name.” Ken prompted, unprepared for her response.

“You are a strange person now, are you on drugs?” the woman probed. She squinted and tried to look into his eyes.

“Name, please.” Ken was sure this was a ruse, but maybe there was a real reason for this.

“Rude! Earth, of course.” The woman rolled her eyes and took a seat at the bar Ken stood next to. Ken was speechless.

“How is that possible. Time travel is crazy dangerous stuff. Earth died almost a billion years ago; I have never known it to be this primitive!” Ken was suddenly serious.

“Well it seems things have gotten uncomfortably meta now!” Silva narrated in a seamless transition back to the announcers.

“We have been told to announce a second vote!” Mart said cheerfully.

“This one is simple! Do we end our broadcast at its regularly scheduled time?” Silva proposed as its voice got progressively lower.

“Or, do we push everything out of the way to continue this spectacle! This is a quick vote so log in now everyone!” Mart finished happily, in vast contrast to Silva’s previous tone.

“If you vote yes, we will introduce a new element to get him back on track!” Silva said gleefully.

“Information provided by our contestant has been run by our resident Human expert, Yatya!” Mart informed, as it bobbed up and down again in excitement. In the background, it had only been showing a muted Ken who ranted non-stop to a confused waitress.

“Thank you, Mart! Glad to be here to analyze tonight’s episode. About the billions of years ago- that equates to almost a Filber in our sector’s universal measurement of time: an exceptionally long time ago. Our mysterious guest seems to know of Earth as if it was a home, yet is unfamiliar with the archived material we have unearthed and studied. This makes for an interesting case study; if, we can keep him on track with the murder at hand!” The odd creature sat in front of a multitude of vibrant colors and gesticulated with all four hands as it spoke. It looked like a torso with arms that protruded from each corner.

“Well there we have it! The vote is in, just like that!” The announcers took back over as they spoke in sync with huge smiles on their faces.

“We say farewell to all those who voted no!” Both announcers sang to the cameras in front of them.

KEN IV