Pompeii

Pedius Cascus, a senior senator who, he dimly recalled, had been a consul years ago and who owned a big villa along the coast at Herculaneum; Pomponianus, an old Army comrade of Pliny, rowed over for dinner from his villa at Stabiae; and Antius, captain of the imperial flagship, the Victoria. The pimply youth was Pliny's nephew, Gaius Plinius Caecilius Secundus.
    He put his finger on the map and they all leant forward, even Corax.
    'This is where I thought originally that the break must be, admiral – here, in the burning fields around Cumae. That would explain the sulphur. But then we learnt that the supply had gone down in Nola as well – over here, to the east. That was at dawn. The timing is crucial, because according to a witness who was in Pompeii at first light, the fountains there were still running this morning. As you can see, Pompeii is some distance back up the matrix from Nola, so logically the Augusta should have failed there in the middle of the night. The fact that it didn't can only mean one thing. The break has to be here' – he circled the spot – 'somewhere here, on this five-mile stretch, where she runs close to Vesuvius.'
    Pliny frowned at the map. 'And the ship? Where does that come in?'
    'I believe we have two days' worth of water left. If we set off overland from Misenum to discover what's happened it will take us at least that long simply to find where the break has occurred. But if we go by sea to Pompeii – if we travel light and pick up most of what we need in the town – we should be able to start repairs tomorrow.'
    In the ensuing silence, the engineer could hear the steady drip of the water clock beside the doors. Some of the gnats whirling around the candles had become encrusted in the wax.
    Pliny said, 'How many men do you have?'
    'Fifty altogether, but most of those are spread out along the length of the matrix, maintaining the settling tanks and the reservoirs in the towns. I have a dozen altogether in Misenum. I'd take half of those with me. Any other labour we need, I'd hire locally in Pompeii.'
    'We could let him have a liburnian, admiral,' said Antius. 'If he left at first light he could be in Pompeii by the middle of the morning.'
    Corax seemed to be panicked by the mere suggestion. 'But with respect, this is just more of his moonshine, admiral. I wouldn't pay much attention to any of this. For a start, I'd like to know how he's so sure the water's still running in Pompeii.'
    'I met a man on the quayside, admiral, on my way here. An augur. The local ferry had just docked. He told me he was in Pompeii this morning.'
    'An augur!' mocked Corax. 'Then it's a pity he didn't see this whole thing coming! But all right – let's say he's telling the truth. Let's say this is where the break is. I know this part of the matrix better than anyone – five miles long and every foot of her underground. It will take us more than a day just to find out where she's gone down.'
    'That's not true,' objected Attilius. 'With that much water escaping from the matrix, a blind man could find the break.'
    'With that much water backed up in the tunnel, how do we get inside it to make the repairs?'
    'Listen,' said the engineer. 'When we get to Pompeii, we split into three groups.' He had not really thought this through. He was having to make it up as he went along. But he could sense that Antius was with him and the admiral had yet to take his eyes from the map. 'The first group goes out to the Augusta – follows the spur from Pompeii to its junction with the matrix and then works westwards. I can assure you, finding where the break is will not be a great problem. The second group stays in Pompeii and puts together enough men and materials to carry out the repairs. A third group rides into the mountains, to the springs at Abellinum, with instructions to shut off the Augusta.'
    The senator looked up sharply. 'Can that be done? In Rome, when an aqueduct has to be closed for repairs, it stays shut down for weeks.'
    'According to the drawings, senator, yes – it can be done.' Attilius had only just noticed it himself, but he was inspired now. The whole operation was taking shape in his mind even as he described it. 'I have never seen the springs of the Serinus myself, but it appears from this plan that they flow into a basin with two channels. Most of the water comes west, to us. But a smaller channel runs north, to feed Beneventum. If we send all the water north, and let the western channel drain