Polly came in over the Bay of Naples in late morning. The water was the colour of green glass. Mount Vesuvius sat on the far side of the bay, partly hidden by haze. The air smelled of salt and diesel from fishing boats.
She followed the shoreline. She could see laundry hanging from balconies and scooters in the streets.
Her destination was an old building on the water. A small brass plaque read STAZIONE ZOOLOGICA ANTON DOHRN, FONDATA 1872.
Polly knew about this place. It had been founded by a German zoologist named Anton Dohrn. The Bay of Naples is one of the richest sea ecosystems in Europe. The institute has been studying octopuses since 1873. It is the oldest marine biology institute still working in the world.
She perched on the railing. A young researcher in a navy lab coat unlocked the back door. She saw Polly and smiled. "Come on in."
The building smelled of seawater. Long corridors ran between rooms full of tanks. Through the glass walls, Polly saw sardines, a small octopus in a corner, and a sea hare on a kelp blade.
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The researcher's name was Chiara Bianchi. She had been studying cephalopod cognition for nine years. "The octopuses are the smartest animals here," she said. "Or at least the smartest ones we are sure are conscious."
They came to a tall round tank. A card on the side read PASTA, 2.3KG, GPO. Inside, folded into a coil of plastic pipe, was a giant Pacific octopus. Eight arms wrapped tidily around itself. One golden eye watched through the glass.
Chiara set her coffee down. "Pasta," she said, "meet Polly."
The octopus did not move. But its eye stayed on Polly.
"You can perch on the rim," Chiara said. "She will not splash you. She is calm in the mornings. She gets clever in the afternoons."
