12

You punch a small hole in the sand. "The whales insist that as long as we refuse to protect them against whalers, we have to stay hidden, as a concession," you say. "But I'm tired of bowing to their demands. We should have control over our own destiny."

Flynn gasps some air in surprise. "I know that some countries still engage in whaling," he says, "but most of us are against it. You shouldn't lump us all together."

Tamru drags his own feet against the sand. "I can't really blame the whales on this one," he says. "I don't think 'Not all of us are murderers' would do much to persuade me either. And modern technology showed them just how easily, how casually, the slaughter could go. It was tens of thousands of whales a year, easy."

"To be honest, a lot of merfolk are scared, too," you add. "Think about poachers, maniacs, zealots. We have stories about all of that happening. There's no way your kind could protect us from all of that. The possibility of contact comes up to the council once a century or so, and every time, it's voted down."

"I guess that's a fair reason," says Flynn. "But what does that have to do with the whales? Why do they have any say in the matter?"