'I didn't.'

'You did. You cited Gallup's theory about certain animals being able to infer the mental state of others.'

'I said primates.'

'Well, that's pretty controversial in itself In any case, I didn't hear you qualify your statement in relation to dolphins or whales – or maybe I misheard you.'

'There's no need for me to qualify anything,' Anawak said peevishly. 'We've just proven that whales can recognise themselves.'

'That seems to be what the experiment indicates, yes.'

'Then what are you trying to say?'

Her eyes widened. 'It's obvious, isn't it? I mean, you can see how a beluga responds, but there's no way of knowing what it's thinking. I've read Gallup's stuff too. He thinks he can prove that animals are sensitive to each other's mental states, but he relies on the assumption that animals think and feel as we do. You're trying to humanise whales.'

So that was her objection. Unbelievable. It was exactly what Anawak had always argued. 'Is that how it seemed to you?'

'Well you said so yourself "Whales have more in common with humans than we think."

'You should have paid more attention, Miss. . .'

'Delaware. Alicia Delaware.'

'Miss Delaware.' Anawak was back in control. 'I said, "Humans and whales may have more in common than we think."

'And the difference is?'

'In the perspective. It's not a question of finding parallels to prove that whales are like humans, or of using mankind as the template by which to judge whales. It's about finding fundamental similarities that-'

'But I don't think you can compare an animal's self-awareness with a human's. Even the basic stuff is so different. I mean, first of all humans have a permanent sense of identity, which allows them to-'

'Wrong,' Anawak interrupted her. 'Humans only develop a stable sense of self-awareness under specific sets of circumstances. Research shows that infants first start to recognise themselves in a mirror between the ages of eighteen and twenty-four months. Until then they're unable to conceptualise the self. In fact, they're even less self-aware than the whale we just observed. And stop referring back to Gallup. My aim is to try to understand the whales. What's yours?'

'I was only trying to-'

'Well, before you try anything else, may be you should imagine how a beluga might judge you. I mean, what's a whale going to think if it sees you looking in the mirror painting your face? Oh, it'll realise you've identified the person in the mirror, sure, but it won't find much evidence of intelligent behaviour. Come to think of it, if it doesn't like your makeup, it might even wonder if you're really self-aware. It's bound to question your IQ.'

Alicia Delaware went red. She started to answer, but Anawak cut her off. 'Needless to say, these tests are just a start,' he said. 'In any case, no one seriously involved in studying whales and dolphins wants to bring back the old myth of man's aquatic friend with the winning smile. I don't suppose whales and dolphins are especially interested in humans, particularly since they inhabit a different environment. They've got different needs from us and they've evolved differently. But if our research can persuade people to respect and protect them, it's worth the effort.'

He answered a few more questions, and finally said goodbye to the group. He waited until they were out of sight, then reviewed the trial with his research team and arranged the dates and procedures for the remaining tests. When everyone had gone, he walked to the edge of the pool, took a deep breath and tried to relax.

PR wasn't one of his strengths, but he had to learn to deal with it. His career was on track, and he'd made his reputation as a brilliant young scientist. No doubt he'd be dragged into countless more arguments with the Alicia Delawares of this world, kids fresh out of university who were so immersed in their textbooks that they'd never even touched the sea.

He crouched and dabbled his fingers in the cool water of the belugas' pool. It was still early. They always tried to conduct tests or demonstrations either before the aquarium opened or when it was closed in the evening. After the long stretch of rain, March was redeeming itself, and the morning sunshine felt pleasantly warm on his skin.

She'd said he treated whales like humans. The accusation had hit home. Anawak prided himself on his sober approach to science. In fact, he led his whole life soberly. He didn't drink and he never went to parties. His research was based on rigour, not attention-seeking theories. He was an atheist, who detested new-age spirituality and avoided projecting human values on animals. Dolphins in particular had become the focus of a romantic way of thinking that was almost as dangerous as hatred or contempt. People tended to view them as a superior species, clinging to them as though their supposed goodness would somehow rub off. The ignorance that exposed dolphins to horrendous cruelty also led to their unqualified idealisation. Humans either tortured or loved them to death.

And Alicia Delaware had had the nerve to use his own arguments against him.

Anawak patted the surface of the water. After a while the beluga with the dot on its chin swam over, poked up her head and allowed herself to be stroked. She gave a series of low whistles. Anawak wondered if she felt or could understand any of the emotions that humans experienced. There was no evidence to prove it – in that respect Alicia Delaware had been right! But no one had proven that they didn't have feelings.

The beluga warbled and disappeared underwater. A shadow fell over Anawak. He turned, and found himself looking at a pair of hand-stitched cowboy boots. Oh, great, he thought. That's all I need.

'Good morning, Leon,' said the man standing beside him. 'Who've you guys been mistreating today?'

Anawak stood up to greet the intruder. Jack Greywolf looked like something out of a modern-day Western. His colossal muscular frame was clad entirely in grease-speckled suede. Chains of traditional Indian jewellery dangled over his barrel-like chest. Long silky black hair streamed down his back from beneath his feathered cap. It was well groomed, but in all other respects he looked as though he'd spent weeks living wild on the prairie, deprived of soap and water. Anawak responded to the mocking grin with a thin smile. 'Who let you in, Jack? No, don't tell me. The Great Spirit Manitou, I bet.'

The grin widened. 'I got special permission.'

'Oh, yeah?'

'From the Pope in person. For Christ's sake, Leon, I came through the gate with the rest of them. The aquarium's open.'

Anawak realised he had lost track of the time. 'This better be a coincidence.'

Greywolf pursed his lips. 'Not exactly.'

'Uh-huh. So you were looking for me.' Anawak started to walk away, forcing Greywolf to follow. The first visitors were already strolling past. 'What can I do for you?'

'You know exactly what you can do.'

'Oh, don't start that again.'

'Join us.'

'Forget it.'

'Come on, Leon, you're one of us. Those hordes of rich assholes are filming the whales to death. That's not what you want, is it?'

'Nope.'

'People listen to you, Leon. If only you'd speak out against whale-watching, they'd take it seriously. We could use a guy like you.'

Anawak stopped in his tracks. 'That's just it. You think I could be useful. But I don't want to be useful to anyone except those who really need me.'

'Look!' Greywolf pointed in the direction of the beluga pool. 'They need you. It makes me sick to see you here, getting cosy with a pair of captives. If you're not keeping them locked up, you're hounding them down. Every time you people take the tourists out in your boats you're hastening their death.'

'Tell me, Jack, are you a vegetarian?'