Akashanantyayatana - How to Build Your Own Tardis (CAC Edition)

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On a space station I've been house-sitting for a friend, there was recently a discussion - I say a discussion, more a rant really by a disgruntled person - on the subject of why science fiction - which I took to mean science fiction as practised by Earth writers1 - is so 'unscientific'. The reason is interesting.

Because Earth, Binky, is not only not the centre of the universe - it doesn't even follow the rules of the normal universe, because of that unfortunate incident with the Romulans and the Sidereal Inspection Team, - but I can't talk about that2.

Thus, science fiction that followed the 'rules' of this benighted planet would not only be incorrect in absolute terms, they would be ludicrous to the rest of beingkind, and, as we all know, science fiction writers - like all writers - are writing for the ages, and not merely to make a quick euro4.

Now, when writers take off for a junket...I mean, are torn away from their keyboards to go on book tours, and meet fans, and sign autographs, and answer all sorts of penetrating and scintillating questions, such as 'Did you know you were writing about my life when you said that?' and 'Are you planning to let the hero get the girl in the next book?', the question they are most often asked5 is, 'Where do you get your ideas?'

I can answer that one.. DIT.

DIT, or Direct Information Transfer, is the galaxy's way of telling you things. Most writers pay no attention to this form of communication, which occurs most often in the hypnogogic6 or hypnopompic7 states, because they rely on formula, marketing analysis, and all the stuff their Writing 101 instructor told them, beginning with 'write about what you know'. But, since science fiction writers want to write about what they don't know, they are susceptible to DIT. And the narrativium flow of the galaxy is amenable to information leakage of this type8. Hence the 'improbable' plot devices and 'ridiculous' technology. Mentally, science fiction writers just aren't in Kansas anymore9.

But to get to the topic - tardises. As you probably all know10, in the world of science fiction the word 'tardis' stands for 'time and relative dimensions in space', a handy, fancy word for a space-time vehicle. Which is, of course, ridiculous to - the sort of people who think that that sort of thing is ridiculous.

This is, of course, not ridiculous at all. Such things exist, and a certain kind of person has one in the galaxy11. The idea that is ridiculous - and which keeps happening on Doctor Who - is that you could steal one. As ludicrous an idea as trying to steal a soul12.

So, how do you build a tardis, or, to call it by its correct term, an akashanantyayatana?

First, you must possess an astral body with at least nine13 field-level matrices - which means, of course, that unless you're a Gheorgheni, you can't14.

So how does a Gheorgheni construct an akashanantyayatana? It's like a wendy house - you build it around yourself.

Astral engineering is complicated in theory, but simple in practice. You have to draw the threads through your true, akashic self (of which the physical body is only a minor interface function), by allowing yourself to pass through all the contact points between the matrix you intend to travel in - a universe - and the matrix central15. This is done by experiencing dramatic situations in real time, and by using correspondence systems. There's a shortcut method called 'Kriegsspiel'16, which is a topic for another time. Depending on the size of the universe, this can take a few years17.

Now if you're not a 999 configuration, can you build an akashanantyayatana? Well, you can build a raft - and when the nearest akashanantyayatana takes off, you'll be towed.

You just make an inventory of your life experiences, and let them hook to your imagination. Think of how you want it to be next time. Then sing it out, act it out, dance it out, write it out. But a word of caution - don't lie. The narrativium is not mocked - where you really are determines your back-vectoring. You don't want to be making that kind of mistake.

Do you want to build your own akashanantyayatana raft? Depends on where you want to go.

Where am I headed? Second star to the right, and straight on till morning.

A diagram of a British plug.
1Science fiction as practised by small furry creatures from Alpha Centauri is a subject for an entirely different essay.2Because it's classified a Galactic State Secret, and if I did, large, nasty spaceships would show up and eradicate the planet3.3The Galactic Bureau of Homeplanets Security don't muck about.4That's true, isn't it?5And, reportedly, dread the most.6Falling asleep, if you're not too drunk or stoned.7Waking up - slowly.8And don't that rot the socks off the Galactic Bureau of Homeplanets Security?9And the only reason the planet hasn't been blown up by the Galactic Bureau of Homeplanets Security yet is that the critics who say 'what a load of rubbish' far outnumber the fans who believe; thus your planet is being kept alive by skepticism. Think about it.10Except for Yanks with no PBS, and the aforesaid skeptics, who are too busy keeping the world safe from annihilation.11To the everlasting annoyance of the Galactic Bureau of Homeplanets Security, who can't catch them.12Which, in case you didn't know, can't be done.13The correct notation - for reasons we can't go into here - is 999. Other levels are also indicated by triple digits, which might give you a clue to certain numerological puzzles that fascinate the sort of person usually found on very late-night television.14Don't despair - read on to find out what you can do.15And wouldn't the Galactic Bureau of Homeplanets Security just love to know where that is?16Invented by my oh-so-glamourous vampire cousin Alexei, who likes his terminology in Early Kraut, if possible.17I know someone who did it in 33, but he was a fast worker.

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