It was a moderately lit and pleasantly temperate afternoon. The Honorable Judge AJ Wellington banged his gavel on the podium, calling a recess for the accused. The sound of disturbed chatter echoed in the wide courthouse halls as the defense and prosecution exited in turn. When only AJ remained in the courtroom, he hung his head in his hands and sighed.  

This was a difficult case. The jury had been deliberating over the accused’s guilt for weeks. If she was found guilty, an innocent woman might go to prison. If she was found innocent, however, she could go on to harm again. She and her children suffered the longer she remained in court. If only I knew what she did and what she’ll do, AJ ruminated. Justice would be so much simpler… 

That evening, AJ went on a dinner date with a Whole Foods cashier named Tanya. He had asked her out but couldn’t bring himself to make conversation. He stared out the window, avoiding his pasta, while his date made small talk at him. “So what does AJ stand for anyway?”  

“I don’t know.” He said, watching a man toss his Slurpee cup into the street. “I think it just says AJ on my birth certificate.” 

“Oh.”  

A bus ran over the Slurpee cup, splashing blue and red in pretty patterns against the window. AJ watched them slide down and disfigure into purple blotches. Tanya took a few last bites of her steak and rose from her seat. “Hey, this was nice, but I think I’ve really got to-” 

There was an enormous sharp sound of thunder as a dark grey box appeared where AJ was sitting. Tanya tripped and fell over her chair. Dramatic lightning and terrible cacophony came from the monolith. It was the sound of several people and a chair being pushed through each other, particle by excruciating particle, in a freak time machine accident. Tanya ran out of the restaurant in a crowd of screaming people. 

It was an hour or more before the horrific sound and light stopped. The box hissed and copious amounts of steam poured from its innards. It unfolded and disappeared with a bright flash. Left standing in its place was… 

Tanya stepped tentatively back into the restaurant. “…AJ?” 

The creature presented itself from out of the cloud of steam. It was hideous. Pieces of chair sprung from its squat lopsided torso like the spines of a sea cucumber. It had two sets of arms of varying sizes, which writhed back and forth making incomprehensible signs. Its legs, of which it had an unclear number, were fused together with its abdomen, immobile. It had three eyes on its disproportionately large head, darting back and forth with analytical urgency. It had no mouth with which to speak the words Tanya then heard: 

“Yes, I am/was/will be AJ. This was/is always meant to be.” 

◊ 

AJ was brought into custody as a suspected terrorist. Scientists, journalists, politicians, and civilians crowded around the police station for a chance to look at him, talk to him, and study him. In the interrogation room, AJ spoke to the officer telepathically, explaining what happened inside the time machine.  

“It is/was/will be excruciatingly painful, but not unpleasant. While my body is/was/will be being compressed, the horizon of my mind is/was/will be expanding. My perception of time shatter/ed/s and coalesced/es/e into new vision. You will/did have to forgive my grammar. The past/present/future all look/ed the same to me.”  

The officer, clearly overwhelmed, pulled his gun on AJ. “Where the hell did you come from? What are you?” 

“Calm down, officer. You are/have been/will be under extreme stress. You wife is/has been/will be eight months pregnant and is/was/will be experiencing health issues. You will/are/have put your gun down.” 

The officer spluttered and tightened his grip on the gun. How could this… thing know about his wife? Was it true that it knew everything about him? His past? His future? “If you know everything, why don’t you tell me when I die?” 

“You will die/are dying/have died in forty years, with your wife and son by your bedside.” 

“My… son?” 

“Yes, officer. Your wife will give/is giving/gave birth to your child safely in three weeks.” 

Pressing his hand against his forehead, the officer slumped down against the wall. “…Thank you. Whatever your name is.” 

“You may call me AJ. It stands/will stand/has always stood for Absolute Justice.” 

◊ 

Ten years later, inside the white marble walls of the Court of Absolute Justice, a man stood awaiting trial. With bated breath, he looked up at the great podium with the letters A J emblazoned in blue. From across a raised hallway, suspended over the courtroom like a bridge, came AJ on a wide palanquin, carried by armed guards. They set him down on the podium, three eyes glinting under his hood. He stretched one of his four arms out and pronounced his verdict.  

“Jonah Elizabeth Tanner. Guilty on counts of aggravated assault and murder.” 

“Your honor, I’m innocent!” 

“That is untrue, Jonah. In three years, you will kill/are killing/have killed your wife in cold blood. It is/was/will be in the best interest of everyone present that you leave/left/will leave society.” 

Jonah opened his mouth to speak, then thought for a minute. The tension built until, finally, he stepped forward and said shakily: “This is not justice. Before i’ve had a chance to… to change? You’ll take me from my family for something I haven’t done?”  

For a moment it seemed as if this would give AJ pause, but still he spoke with the same measured tone. “You talk/talked/will talk of “Before”. Before/after/during is a distraction. There is/was/will be no past/present/future in my court. Only Justice.”