At the very least, we get lovely little puzzle stories of humans trying to outsmart a virtual god. Here's a quick tale of someone who thought he won the wishing game.
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The Third Wish
“Your wish is my
command, and very well-phrased, if I do say.”
I’ll admit that I was pleased with myself. Yes, I know I
wasn’t the first to wish for immortality, but I’ve read enough stories to know
that wishing was a fool’s game, unless you’re clever and careful. I studied
first. I read up on contract law. On fairy tales. On myths.
I was going to get this right, and carefully so. Avoid
disease or senescence or an eternity of pain. And this was just one wish,
carefully worded. I’d keep the other two in reserve, as an emergency measure.
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| Image by Andrea Trask |
“It’s just… well, nevermind. I’m sure you’ve thought of all
of it.”
It doesn’t matter how I found the genie or bound him to do
my bidding, but that I did. And this one was clearly impressed, and respectful.
I’m not so arrogant as to not listen; after all, I DID still have two wishes
left, and haven’t even created myself a fortune.
Yet.
“It’s just that the wish was perfectly worded for all
natural or supernatural illnesses, all age related failings physical and
mental, all germs, diseases, curses, afflictions.”
I nodded, impatient. “Yes, Genie. I know I what I wished
for. It’s very careful and very much ironclad.”
“Only… did you not think of accidents? A fire? A car crash? Lightning?”
“I thought those fell under aflictions?”
“No… you’re not protected from misadventure or disasters.”
“OK.. so for my next wish, I wish to be protected…” I
continued very carefuly and quickly, modifying the language from my
anti-illness wish to include all natural and man-made disasters, accidents,
misadventures, and acts of god. It’s good to be smart, and to have earned the
respect of the genie.
Ten years later I’d still not used that last wish. I had a
house, a wife, a baby, a car. The secret is to find a way to live comfortably,
with the security that you’re taken car of and it’ll all work out. It isn’t
hard to win the wishing-game if you aren’t greedy.
The fire alarm didn’t wake me at first, but that’s OK. After
all, I was protected, and protected well. The smoke smelled like a campfire,
the flames a gentle warmth. I smiled until I heard the screaming from my
daughter’s room, then jumped out of bed in a panic, running through the
smoke-filled rooms. It didn’t even sting my eyes, but obscured my vision.
You don’t need to hear the rest. I found them, my wife and
the baby, in the nursery. Ran them outside, but it was too late, much too late.
Cradling my baby’s lifeless body, I looked up at the house. The protection had
held, with even the siding around my bedroom window clean and unmarked.
“Oh… I wish it had been me.”
Those are the last words I ever spoke. As the world faded
away I heard the baby’s laughter and realized something.
I’d won the wishing game after all.
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