“What do you care?” says Gabriella. “It’s not like you were getting anything anyway. Maybe this way you have a shot.”
“He wasn’t crazy,” Alistair says. “I saw him every day, practically. He wasn’t any crazier at the end than he ever was. I mean, maybe he was always crazy. But if that were the case, then the reason we are all rich is because he was crazy, which I guess also means that he can dispose of his riches any crazy way that he sees fit, logically speaking.”
“Well, this is beyond crazy,” says Bernard. “This is malicious. We are all supposed to just play some game against each other for the family wealth? I think if we all just decide that we won’t do it, no court in the United States will force us to. We might have to pay higher taxes on account of ignoring his will and its network of holding companies and trusts, but I think it will be worth it.”
“He had himself checked out by four separate psychologists before making this will,” says Angelo Marino. “They all signed affidavits certifying his sanity. Those will be hard to challenge in court. Additionally, there is a corollary to the will that says that anyone who refuses to play the game will get nothing.” He pauses, letting that statement sink in. “You don’t even know what the game is yet. Do you all truly refuse to play? If that’s the case, the money will be put into a trust and eventually used for charitable endowments in African universities.”
“Gasp,” says Henley.
“Well, we can’t just give all the money away,” says Bernard. “That’s stupid and naive. Most of those countries are run by dictators.”
“What if it is something that favors one of us?” asks Gabriella. “Like poker or something. Bernard does nothing but play poker. Or it could be one of those stupid strategy games that Caitlyn loves.”
“Or what if the game is soap-making,” says Henley. “Then you would win!”
“Shut up, Henley,” says Gabriella.
“Look, we should just watch the rest of his will,” I say. “We don’t know enough to make a decision yet.”
“I think I know what the game is,” says Alistair. “Dad was making me work on something for him privately. That augmented reality stuff I showed you. I think it must be related to that.”
“There you go,” says Bernard. “So Alistair has a clear advantage.”
“No, it’s not like that,” says Alistair. “I just know some of the tech. But not any of the details.”
“Just press play, okay?” I say to Angelo Marino, exasperated.
“Of course,” he replies.
“The game will be very simple,” our father booms from the screen. “Remember how you used to love the scavenger hunt every year? Well, you will be hunting for these black boxes.”
He holds up a box about the size of an old answering machine. There is a blinking red light in one corner, but otherwise it is completely sealed without wires or ports. The ominous nature of this box that does not seem to have a function gives me goosebumps.
“You will each get three lives, as in any rudimentary video game. You will need to find a box every day, or you will lose a life. If you all manage to find the box, the last person to do so will lose a life. The winner will be the person who stays alive, plain and simple. They will get my entire fortune. The way I see it, the rest of you have been helped enough in life. I have always been there for you and you have never wanted for anything. I’m sure that you will thrive, no matter what direction you choose to take, whether that is professional gambling, professional dissipation, or professional scents and sundries. Angelo will explain any questions you might have, and as always, the real fun is in the details.” A wistful grin spreads across his face.
“As you all know, the first game I ever made was Sea Farmers, the family-friendly resource-management game of undersea farming for ages ten to infinity. What made it work was the novelty of a game where people did not compete against each other directly, through combat or by scoring points, but where people competed by being able to cultivate their coral reef the most shrewdly in order to feed all the other fish in the kingdom. Was Sea Farmers a great game? Probably not. Nylo made many better games, in my opinion. But families could play without hating each other. It was fun even if you lost. I hope this game will be similar. I hope it will bring out the best in you and not the worst.”
He looks down briefly, then brings his eyes back up to meet ours and continues in a rueful tone.
“I know that I have not always been there for you. So many children without a mother! I know that I have possibly been better at designing fun things than I have actually been at experiencing them with you. But those scavenger hunts I used to create were one of the highlights of my life. I always cherished those special days with my family, hunting around the neighborhood for clues. The tragedy that killed your mother ended all that. We never did a scavenger hunt again. But since you are now dealing with yet another tragedy, what does it matter now how gruesome my final request may be? Have fun, my children. Play honorably. But do try to win.”
Dad smiles one last time, then reaches up and switches off the camera. The screen goes black and then blue.
“Well, that’s basically it,” says Angelo Marino. “The game begins today. Every day, you have to find one of these boxes. The last person to find the box each day will lose a life. The last person left alive wins the fortune.”
“What if none of us find any of these boxes?” asks Alistair. “What if we all lose at the
