Anawak frowned.

'Don't look at me like that!' Delaware rolled her eves. 'I've read your books and I like your work.'

'That's not the impression I got.'

'At the aquarium?' She made a dismissive gesture. 'Forget it. Dr Anawak, I'm only here for one more day. It really means a lot to me.'

'It's against the regulations.' The excuse was lame and made him sound petty.

'God, you're stubborn,' she said. 'I'm warning you it doesn't take much to make me cry. If I can't come along, I'll be sobbing on the plane all the way to Chicago. You wouldn't want to be responsible for that.'

Anawak couldn't help laughing. 'All right. If it means that much to you, you can come.'

'Really?'

'Really. But don't get on my nerves. And try to keep your abstruse theories to yourself.'

'It wasn't my theory. It's from-'

'On second thoughts, don't say anything at all.'

She opened her mouth, then thought better of it.

'Wait here a moment,' said Anawak. I'll fetch you some waterproofs.'

For a full ten minutes Alicia Delaware stuck to her promise. Then, when the skyline of Tofino had disappeared behind the first of the tree-covered mountains, she sidled up to Anawak and held out her hand. 'Call me Licia,' she said.

'Licia?'

'From Alicia. You're Leon, right?'

He shook her hand.

'OK. Now, there's something we need to settle.'

Anawak looked at Stringer for help, but she was steering the Zodiac. 'Such as?' he asked cautiously.

'The other day at the aquarium I was acting like a stupid know-it-all and I'm sorry.'

'No problem.'

'Now it's your turn to apologise.'

'What for?'

She glanced away. 'I didn't mind you criticising my arguments in front of other people – but you shouldn't have mentioned my appearance.'

'Your appearance? I didn't… Oh God.'

'You said that if a beluga saw me doing my makeup, it would have to question my intelligence.'

'I didn't mean it like that.'

Anawak ran his hand over his thick black hair. He'd been annoyed with the girl for turning up, as he saw it, with preconceived ideas, then drawing attention to herself through her ignorance, but his angry words had hurt her. 'All right. I'm sorry.'

'Apology accepted.'

'You were citing Povinelli,' he said.

She smiled. It was proof that he was taking her seriously. In the debate about intelligence and self-awareness in primates and other animals, Daniel Povinelli was Gallup's principal critic. He supported Gallup's theory that chimpanzees who recognised themselves in the mirror must have some idea of who they were, but he rejected the claim that this meant they understood their own mental state and therefore that of others. In fact, Povinelli was far from being convinced that any animal was endowed with the psychological understanding common to humans.

'It takes guts to say what he's saying,' said Delaware. 'Povinelli's ideas seem so old-fashioned, while things are easier for Gallup – everyone likes to claim that chimpanzees and dolphins are on a par with humans.'

'Which they are,' said Anawak.

'Ethically speaking, yes.'

'That's got nothing to do with it. Ethics are a human invention.'

'No one would contest that. Least of all Povinelli.'

Anawak looked out over the bay. Some of the smaller islets were coming into view. After a while he said, 'I know what you're trying to say. You think it shouldn't be necessary to prove that animals are like humans to treat them humanely.'

'It's arrogant,' Delaware said fiercely.

'You're right. It doesn't solve anything. And yet most people would be lost without the idea that life increases in value the more it resembles our own. We still find it easier to kill animals than people. It gets tricky when you start seeing animals as relatives of mankind. Most people are aware that humans and animals are related, but they like to think of themselves as the pinnacle of creation. Few will admit that other forms of life might he as precious as their own. And that creates a dilemma: how can they treat animals or plants with the same respect as other humans when they think that the life of an ant, an ape or a dolphin is worth less than their own?'

'Hey!' She clapped her hands. 'You think the same as I do after all.'

'Almost. I think you're a bit, er, dogmatic in your approach. I believe that chimpanzees and belugas do have a certain amount in common with us psychologically.' Anawak held up his hand before she could protest. 'OK, let me put it another way. I'd say that humanity rises in the estimation of belugas the more they discover that humanity has in common with them. Assuming whales care about such things.' He grinned. 'Who knows? Some belugas might even think we're intelligent. Does that sound better?'

Delaware wrinkled her nose. 'I don't know.'

'Sea-lions!' Stringer called out. 'Over there!'

Anawak shielded his eyes with his hand and squinted in the direction she was pointing. They were coming up to a tree-lined island. A group of Stellar sea-lions were sunning themselves on the rocks.

'This isn't about Gallup or Povinelli, is it?' said Anawak, picking up his camera. He zoomed in and took a few shots of the sea-lions. 'So why not change the terms of the debate? There's no hierarchy of life-forms in nature: it's a human concept, and it needn't concern us now. We both agree that it's wrong to treat animals like humans. That said, I think it's within our power to gain a limited insight into the psychology of animals – to understand them intellectually, if you like. What's more, I'm convinced that certain animals have more in common with us than others and that one day we'll find a way of communicating with them. You, on the other hand, take the view that non-human forms of life will always be a mystery to us. We can't get inside the head of an animal, ergo, we can't communicate. Which leaves us with the fact of our difference. So you're saying we should hurry up and get used to the idea, and leave the poor creatures in peace.'

The Zodiac slowed to pass the sea-lions. Stringer imparted some information about them, while the tourists got out their cameras.

I'll have to think about it,' said Delaware, finally. She said scarcely another word until they reached the open water.

Anawak was content. It was good to start the trip with some sea-lions: it had put the tourists in a good mood.

Soon a herd of grey whales had appeared. Greys were slightly smaller than humpbacks, but still imposingly large. Some swam within a short distance of the boat and peeped briefly out of the water – to the delight of everyone on board. They looked like enormous moving pebbles, with their mottled grey skin and powerful jaws covered with barnacles, copepods and whale lice. Most of the tourists were filming frenetically or taking photos. The others looked on in silence, visibly moved. Anawak had seen grown men cry at the sight of a whale rising out of the water.

Three other Zodiacs and a bigger boat with a solid hull waited nearby, engines switched off Stringer radioed the details of the sighting. They were all committed to responsible whale-watching – but that wasn't enough for the likes of Jack Greywolf.

Greywolf was a dangerous jerk. Anawak didn't like the sound of tourist-watching. If it came to the crunch, the media would side with Greywolf – initially, at least. He and the others at the station could be as conscientious and careful as they liked, but a protest from an animal-rights group, however disreputable, would reinforce people's prejudices against whale-watching. No one bothered to distinguish between serious organisations and fanatics like Greywolf and his Seaguards. That only happened later, when the press got hold of the true facts and the damage had been done.

Anawak scanned the ocean intently, camera at the ready. Maybe he'd succumbed to paranoia after his meeting with the humpbacks. Had he been imagining things or were those whales behaving oddly?