Tibbet’s face was flushed, his voice unnecessarily loud. He did not respond to her question about his stomach. He half-yelled—What the hell! Who do you think you are? My god. You aren’t a researcher. You have no education or experience.

He said—The reporters come here because you look good in a bathing suit. The photos sell copies.

He said—You are an animal trainer. You should work at Marine World. If you were a man, no reporters would come here at all.

* * *

Then one of the articles, the Savannah Morning News, centered not on Blum, but on her. Tibbet was the one to spot the article, and he called her out onto the lawn to hand it to her.

She took it gingerly, uneasy at his expression. The title was “Woman and Dolphin Make Waves.” It had a full-length photo and quotes from her. The article mentioned Blum only twice, describing him only as the Harvard scientist who had sponsored her work.

Tibbet drank in her reaction. Around the time she’d finished reading it, Blum walked out onto the lawn curious. Seeing the paper, he held out his hand.

She watched Blum scan the title and the photo, then search for his name in the text. Tibbet watched his reaction, showing his teeth in an almost shark smile.

* * *

Both Mother and Kat hadn’t gotten fed much in almost a week. By now, they were moving with less energy, not playing much. They coasted through the water, keeping watch for any fish that might wander into the lagoon from the sluice.

Still when Tibbet came down to the lagoon for his research, they continued to select the wrong answers. The few times they selected the right answer, he’d inhale, then throw them both ten fish. After they gobbled up the fish, they’d return to selecting the wrong answer.

Each day their rate of correct answers decreased, 10 percent of the time, 8 percent. Behind the blind, Tibbet would rock with satisfaction, tallying every answer. The dolphins faced the blind: what could they sense, if anything, of his reaction? Could they hear his heart, his breath, or coughs of satisfaction?

Blum stepped out of the building. He walked over to sit by her on the hill. They were 50 feet from Tibbet, who was busy running the trials, watching the dolphins answer.

He asked in a quiet voice—Why are they answering wrong?

He was looking at her, his eyes focused on her face. His pupils were not dilated, and he seemed to be genuinely interested in what she would say. So she answered honestly.

She said—You’ve seen that they show their intelligence more in front of some of the visitors.

He waited.

She said—It’s possible they sense what the visitor thinks. I think they might show only as much intelligence as the person believes they have.

Searching his expression, she noticed now how still his eyes were. These days they tended to rest on an object for a long time. In this case, on her face. Perhaps she had only wanted to believe he was listening.