“The Westside won't get away with it!” King Zev roared through the megaphone. “We won't let the Westside get away with it, will we?”

“No!” Dan yelled, along with the other soldiers. The ordinary citizens shouted, too, but not so loud.

“Down in the Westside, they think they can break treaties whenever they want to,” the king said. “They think they can make us pay for what's always been a freeway. They think we're too spineless to care. Are they right?”

“No!” Dan yelled again, louder than ever.

“I can't hear you!” King Zev cupped a hand behind one ear.

“No!” This time, Dan yelled so loud, it hurt. All around him, other young men in uniform were shouting themselves hoarse, too.

King Zev smiled. “All right. Good,” he said. “Far freaking out. We've told them we won't stand for it, but they don't want to listen. So what are we, like, going to do about it?”

“Fight 'em!” Dan bellowed. The other soldiers were shouting things like “Kill them!” and “Nuke 'em!” and “Smash 'em to bits!”

Zev's smile got wider. “That's just what we'll do. I've given Ambassador Mort his walking papers. He can go down there and tell the Westside City Council our soldiers will take care of their miserable, stupid wall.”

Everybody cheered. No one liked the ambassador much. Even for a Westsider, he was pompous. He seemed to think getting sent to the Valley was a punishment, not a diplomatic appointment. He walked around as if everything up here smelled bad.

“Send him back where he belongs!” Dan yelled. The soldiers sitting near him laughed and clapped.

“I'm going to send him back,” Zev said, picking up on Dan 's shout. That made Dan feel pretty special. All the people in the Valley were special, just because they were lucky enough to live here. He'd learned that in school, too. But he felt especially special right now. King Zev went on, “And I'm going to tell him to tell the City Council they can look for our soldiers right behind him!”