         
	President Nathaniel Willis Blake called his cabinet together, the first full emergency session in untold years.

	"Ladies, Gentlemen, we have a problem.  A very serious problem.  At three this afternoon, war was officially declared on the United States of America, Canada, Mexico -- and dozens of our closest allies throughout the world, as well as most of the unaligned nations."

	A collective gasp escaped from the assembled members of the cabinet.  War?  And after incredulity settled, realization dawned.  War!  Even in 2287, the past horrors of it, though so long ago, remained embedded in every single mind.

	The first to speak was the Secretary of the Peace.  "Mr. President, this is impossible!  Why, we haven't a single enemy on earth -- neither have our economic allies.   We haven't even had a minor disagreement with any of the unaligned nations, either, not in decades."

	"This is true, Mr. Peace Secretary.  But the declaration of war isn't from another nation, exactly.  It's from a very large tribe -- of Dolphins."

	The cabinet room went deathly silent for a moment or two, then whispers buzzed.  Dolphins?   The happy-go-lucky harvesters of the seas?   What on earth could they declare war with?

	The Secretary of Mental Health made a note with the Secretary of Governmental Sanity to review their joint files:  Had President Blake indeed passed all psychological examinations requisite for election to his high office?

	The Secretary of Sciences talked quietly with the Secretary of Interspecies Harmony.  Dolphins had been declared sentient members of planetary society two centuries ago, once communications were finally established;  and they'd been valued and protected, even coddled, ever since. What could be wrong? They'd been given the domain of the oceans and seas, every one of them, outright.  What more could they possibly want?

	"This seems so unlikely," offered the Secretary of Cultures.  "Ever since the oceans became our primary source of food, Kingdom Delphinidae has seemed to take immense pride and pleasure in being, essentially, benevolent farmers to the world.   And as a society, they've grown immensely wealthy in the process."

	Before things could become too badly muddled, as was his sworn duty, the Secretary for Cutting to the Chase responded:   "Mr. President, this is truly absurd.  What sort of poor joke can this be?  What possible reason would Kingdom Delphinidae have for declaration of war?  We've restored their waters to pristine beauty and perfection.  For two centuries, they have been our friends, equals.  Economically, they are a major force, among the most prosperous of nations.  We have made every possible recompense for all of our ignorant past wrongs -- "

	"Except, apparently, for one," interjected the President quietly.  "Fact is, they want their land back."

	The Secretary of the Interior jumped to his feet.   "What?  How can this be so?  Land?  What land?"

	The President's face was stony, but he was plainly uncomfortable in responding.  "Well, you can examine the specifics of the Dolphin Declaration later, but, in general, it's a whole lot of it, mostly coastal, some not, all over the world.  They want us to give back the land we stole from them."

	"We stole land from them?  What land?  They've been sea dwellers for eons!"  The Secretary of Sciences was confused, and that upset him terribly.  He was used to understanding things, but this?  He didn't understand it at all.

	"True," said the President.  "But, as you just implied, they were not always sea dwellers.  They started out on land.   You, of all my cabinet, should know that.  They used to live as land mammals, before mutating and adapting to the water.  And now they want their land back.

	"They claim they decided long ago to change form for a bit, take what, in their language system, translates to a nice long swim, and then later mutate back to land dwellers, return home to their native soils.

	"They want their land back," concluded The President, "or, it's war.  They claim other damages, in addition;  something about gambling facilities, casinos, possible centuries of lost revenues."

	The Secretary of the Interior was on his feet.  "Mr. President!  Delphinidae are intensely logical beings, behind their smiling facades.  How could they even suggest such nonsense!"

	"Respectfully, Mr. Secretary, they claim that, while temporarily away from their properties, our distant ancestors occupied them illegally.  When they recently -- in their terms -- decided to return to their ancient homelands, daunting human technology was far too strong for them to combat.   Now, though, as fully enfranchised members of the world community, they demand their legal rights to their native lands.   Or else."

	Again, the Secretary of the Interior objected.  "Mr. President, still, in sentient law, there is no precedent.   Delphinidae must know this.  They are most astute!"

	"Mr. Secretary, with respect, you are incorrect on the matter of precedent.  In American law, at least, there is ample precedent.  In the twentieth century, hundreds of thousands of aboriginal American Indians successfully demanded and reclaimed large portions of the United States;  later, Canada and Mexico.   Similar situations shortly followed in other countries.  They have precedent.  A lot of it."

	The room quieted for a time, every member of the cabinet absorbed, investigating historical law over their datalinks.  It was all completely true, of course.  Leave it to Delphinidae to concoct this flawless strategy, this brilliant argument, all within an established framework of documented legal tradition.

	The Secretary for Cutting to the Chase, after much careful thought, arose and somberly addressed the chief executive and his cabinet members:

	"Mr. President, assembled colleagues, we are in a corner.  Kingdom Delphinidae controls the seas, our greatest nutritional resources; indeed, have done so, for the last two hundred years.  Without their continued cooperation, most of the human population would starve, within a matter of mere months.  Commerce and industry would rapidly collapse.  As a people, we would very shortly face reversion to savagery, perhaps extinction."

	President Nathaniel Willis Blake spoke shakily, eyes downcast.  "It appears we have few choices," he observed softly.

	The cabinet withdrew to consider.

	The End.

