Solmara's shelves shine and its stomachs growl. Luxury sits in glut at 82 centavos while bread runs 85 percent short and every ship that could carry it sails past our deep-water port. I have planted the Ferrant Granary on the richest grain land on the Arvend, and I will plant more. Elect Ferrant and the treasury builds capacity before the crowd crushes the wage - grain first, then the shine. A radiant republic feeds its people and still out-dresses every rival. - Lucia Ferrant