Page 84 of The Pacifist
“All right.” I looked at her list with its four bullet points.
“Comfort, love, wealth, and adventure.”
“Yes. Now, I already talked to my dad about the uniforms and he said that he’s willing to look at a change in design but not right now. Then there’s the part about love and I’ve come up with some ideas.”
“Let’s hear them.”
“You know Willow and Solo are actors in a series that tells the story of how the integration began when Christina came to the Northlands and fell in love with Boulder, right?”
“Of course, they play my parents on the show, which is kind of cool.”
“Uh-huh, but my dad told me the show ran into problems with some people in the Motherlands who are prunes and won’t allow any kissing on the show.”
“Do you think maybe he meant prudes?”
Freya shrugged.
“It’s true, though. Willow was devastated because she had these great visions of being an actress and now the series might never be shown.”
“It’s stupid.”
I didn’t disagree, but tried to explain, “There are rules against entertainment that contains violence or romance. From what I heard the Council had agreed to show lenience, but once they saw the first episode, they changed their minds.”
Freya rolled her eyes. “Motlanders are silly. My mom is so lucky that she met my dad and moved here.”
“Freya, there’s good on both sides.”
“I know. But anyway, I want Solo to convince the producers to show the series here at the amphitheater. It could be a big event that people pay to be part of live, and for those who can’t get a ticket, it could be transmitted. Ten million people watching are still a lot of people.”
I nodded.
“Okay, so imagine that after the show, the real people who the show is about could answer questions.” She lit up. “And you know what would make it extra special?”
“What?”
“If after each episode, a new couple gets married.”
“What couple?”
“That doesn’t matter. There are people marrying through the Matching Program all the time. My dad would just showcase that Nmen are finding love every day under his rule.”
I blinked my eyes and must have looked confused because she clarified by tapping at the pad again. “The whole point is to make them feel like my dad can give them love.”
“I see.” I nodded. “You want to give them hope that it can happen for them too.”
“Yes.”
“Freya, that’s not a bad idea.”
“Good!” She sat up in a cross-legged position like me. “Now about the wealth part.”
“Yes?” I was eager to hear what the mind of this brilliant eleven-year-old girl had come up with.
“I made some calculations, and if there are five episodes and we sell out the twelve hundred seats in the amphitheater for five live shows over five weeks, then we should make more than three hundred thousand dollars if we charge fifty dollars per person.”
“Fifty dollars?”
“Yes. I asked Willow about the show she did with the performers from the Motherlands, and she told me that the audience each paid between forty and fifty dollars to see it.”
