over and contribute to the same problems they claim to hate, wanting the government to baby-sit them. So, over time, governments learned to.”

I hesitated, wishing he would go away, unsure if he meant to charge me with anything. “But I’m not contributing to the problems, I always—” I bit my lip. “This one time, I meant to finish it and throw it away in a recycling bin. Serious.”

“Why should intentions matter to me?” he said as a stream of sand poured from his hand. “The law says you’re just like everyone else: an irresponsible polluter who should be punished until he learns his lesson. The law says you were guilty the minute you set foot on this beach, or at least that I can detain you and make you spend months proving otherwise. Are you everyone else, Mister Dauphin? Or are you an individual: someone with a heart and a mind and a spirit and the ability to take actions that are consistent with his own beliefs? Are you someone who can say something and mean it?”

“I’m