Pompeii

from Rome a thing or two.' He cupped his hands to his mouth and bellowed, 'Januarius!'
    From the other side of the yard came an answering shout, and a tall man appeared at the top of a flight of stairs. He recognised his master and ran down the steps and across the yard, wiping his hands on his tunic, bobbing his head in a series of bows as he came closer.
    'Januarius – this is my friend, the aquarius of the Augusta. He works for the Emperor!'
    'Honoured,' said Januarius, and gave Attilius another bow.
    'Januarius is one of my foremen. Where are the lads?'
    'In the barracks, sir.' He looked terrified, as if he had been caught idling. 'It's the holiday –'
    'Forget the holiday! We need them here now. Ten did you say you needed, aquarius? Better make it a dozen. Januarius, send for a dozen of the strongest men we have. Brebix's gang. Tell them they're to bring food and drink for a day. What else was it you needed?'
    'Quicklime,' began Attilius, 'puteolanum –'
    'That's it. All that stuff. Timber. Bricks. Torches – don't forget torches. He's to have everything he needs. And you'll require transport, won't you? A couple of teams of oxen?'
    'I've already hired them.'
    'But you'll have mine – I insist.'
    'No.' Ampliatus's generosity was starting to make the engineer uneasy. First would come the gift, then the gift would turn out to be a loan, and then the loan would prove a debt impossible to pay back. That was no doubt how Popidius had ended up losing his house. A hustler's town. He glanced at the sky. 'It's noon. The oxen should be arriving down at the harbour by now. I have a slave waiting there with our tools.'
    'Who did you hire from?'
    'Baculus.'
    'Baculus! That drunken thief! My oxen would be better. At least let me have a word with him. I'll get you a fat discount.'
    Attilius shrugged. 'If you insist.'
    'I do. Fetch the men from the barracks, Januarius, and send a boy to the docks to have the aquarius's wagons brought here for loading. I'll show you around while we're waiting, aquarius.' And again his hand fell upon the engineer's shoulder. 'Come.'

    Baths were not a luxury. Baths were the foundation of civilisation. Baths were what raised even the meanest citizen of Rome above the level of the wealthiest hairy-arsed barbarian. Baths instilled the triple disciplines of cleanliness, healthfulness and strict routine. Was it not to feed the baths that the aqueducts had been invented in the first place? Had not the baths spread the Roman ethos across Europe, Africa and Asia as effectively as the legions, so that in whatever town in this far-flung empire a man might find himself, he could at least be sure of finding this one precious piece of home? Such was the essence of Ampliatus's lecture as he conducted Attilius around the empty shell of his dream. The rooms were unfurnished and smelled strongly of fresh paint and stucco and their footsteps echoed as they passed through the cubicles and exercise rooms into the main part of the building. Here, the frescoes were already in place. Views of the green Nile, studded with basking crocodiles, flowed into scenes from the lives of the gods. Triton swam beside the Argonauts and led them back to safety. Neptune transformed his son into a swan. Perseus saved Andromeda from the sea-monster sent to attack the Ethiopians. The pool in the caldarium was built to take twenty-eight paying customers at a time, and as the bathers lay on their backs they would gaze up at a sapphire ceiling, lit by five hundred lamps and swimming with every species of marine life, and believe themselves to be floating in an undersea grotto.
    To attain the luxury he demanded, Ampliatus was employing the most modern techniques, the best materials, the most skilful craftsmen in Italy. There were Neapolitan glass windows in the dome of the laconium – the sweating-room – as thick as a man's finger. The floors and the walls and the ceilings were hollow, the furnace that heated the cavities so powerful that even if snow lay on the ground, the air inside would be sweltering enough to melt a man's flesh. It was built to withstand an earthquake. All the main fittings – pipes, drains, grills, vents, taps, stop-cocks, shower-nozzles, even the handles to flush the latrines – were of brass. The lavatory seats were Phrygian marble, with elbow rests carved in the shape of dolphins and chimeras. Hot and cold running water throughout. Civilisation.
    Attilius had to admire the vision of the man. Ampliatus