From his tank on Day 1,308, Marcellus notes the seahorses’ annual spawning, a predictable cycle he has seen four times. He describes the larvae as unrecognizable compared to their parents, prompting a contrast with humans, who remain identifiably human throughout life despite changes in size and ability.

Reflecting further, Marcellus critiques humans’ prolonged dependence on parents and imagines how poorly young humans would fare at sea. He wonders about his own species’ spawning and what octopus larvae look like, acknowledging that captivity will likely keep him from ever knowing.

Expecting crowds drawn by the spawning, Marcellus predicts extended aquarium hours and notes most visitors will ignore him. For the few who pause, he entertains himself by unfurling arms to draw them close and then jets away to hide, creating a brief spectacle and asserting control over the interaction.

Marcellus marks one exception: Tova, the elderly cleaner, does not engage with these games. Instead, she speaks to him, and they “converse,” emphasizing a rare, reciprocal connection that stands apart from the predictable behaviors of other humans.