Free Memoranda by Jeffrey Ford

about it at great length. The idea of it is this …” and as he paused to inhale I could see that he relished the role of teacher. “The adept creates a palace in his memory. He envisions this palace with a clear mind and total concentration. Once it takes root in his memory, he fills it with objects—a vase of yellow roses, a mirror, a white fruit. Each of the objects he places around the palace stands for something he wants to be able to remember. For instance, the vase of flowers might represent a concept like a mathematical formula. If the adept wishes to regain that formula, he travels through the memory palace, and upon seeing the vase, instantly remembers it.”
    â€œEverything in the palace is symbolic,” I said.
    He nodded. “My father designed the Well-Built City with this method. Once it was rebuilt in coral and steel, every portion of the architecture was, for him, the physical representation of a concept, a theory, an experience worth remembering. Out there,” he said, pointing behind him, “those ruins are the devastation of his memory. Every now and then, as we wandered among them he would come across a broken gargoyle or a fallen column, and I could tell he was momentarily recovering a lost fragment of himself. He found a piece of a pressed-tin ceiling that held the likeness of a pelican, and this made him weep.”
    â€œThe white fruit exploded that memory palace from his mind, and, through some strange property, also destroyed its representation in the real world.”
    â€œI love to think of that white fruit,” said the demon with a smile.
    I stubbed out my cigarette and cut into the salad as if it were a steak.
    â€œHe’s built another one,” said Misrix.
    â€œAnother what?” I asked.
    â€œAnother palace. He’s built one in his mind. It is magnificent, and in addition to the objects carrying symbolic meaning there are even people in this one who stand for certain ideas.”
    â€œHow do you know?”
    â€œI’ve been there,” he said.

8
    We stood next to Below’s bed, staring down at him. The candle’s glow illuminated his head, and its dance created the illusion that he was about to awaken.
    â€œIt’s all in there,” said Misrix, pointing.
    â€œIn his memory?”
    The demon nodded. “I can put you in there,” he said.
    â€œHow does that work?” I asked.
    â€œYou felt it in the cistern when we were hiding from the explosion. I put my hand on top of your head.”
    â€œIt was like a dreaming wind,” I said.
    â€œI can put a hand upon your head and the other upon Father’s, and you can travel through me into him. You will appear in his new memory palace in your present form. It will have all the reality of this world,” said the demon.
    â€œAll the reality of this world?” I said, and laughed.
    â€œThe antidote is there,” he said.
    â€œI have been trying to forget about the antidote,” I told him.
    â€œIt’s there in a symbolic form in the memory palace.”
    â€œMaybe I could find it.”
    â€œBut how would you be certain you have found it? You don’t know the symbolic meanings of the objects. How do you decipher the secret language that is the center of that world?” said Misrix.
    â€œWhat about you? Why don’t you just enter into his memory? It would seem more direct that way,” I said.
    â€œI was there once,” said the demon, “and because I appeared in my form, the inhabitants of the place were frightened of me and tried to kill me. I was forced to flee after only a short time. I know in my deepest self that if you were to go in there and some tragedy were to befall you, you would also die, here, in this world.”
    â€œThere’s a solid recommendation,” I said.
    â€œYes, but you look like the other inhabitants. You could use your intelligence to decipher the symbolic system,” said