Free Pompeii by Robert Harris

which is most of the way, she's six feet high and three feet wide, and she rests on a base of concrete one and a half feet thick, with walls of the same dimensions. Whatever force breached that must have been powerful.'
    'More powerful than the force which shakes my wine?' The admiral looked at the senator. 'Unless we are not dealing with a phenomenon of nature at all. In which case, what is it? A deliberate act of sabotage, perhaps, to strike at the fleet? But who would dare? We haven't had a foreign enemy set foot in this part of Italy since Hannibal.'
    'And sabotage would hardly explain the presence of sulphur.'
    'Sulphur,' said Pomponianus suddenly. 'That's the stuff in thunderbolts, isn't it? And who throws thunderbolts?' He looked around excitedly. 'Jupiter! We should sacrifice a white bull to Jupiter, as a deity of the upper air, and have the haruspices inspect the entrails. They'll tell us what to do.'
    The engineer laughed.
    'What's so funny about that?' demanded Pomponianus. 'It's not so funny as the idea that the world is flying through space – which, if I may say so, Pliny, rather begs the question of why we don't all fall off.'
    'It's an excellent suggestion, my friend,' said Pliny soothingly. 'And, as admiral, I also happen to be the chief priest of Misenum, and I assure you, if I had a white bull to hand I would kill it on the spot. But for the time being, a more practical solution may be needed.' He sat back in his chair and wiped his napkin across his face, then unfolded and inspected it, as if it might contain some vital clue. 'Very well, aquarius. I shall give you your ship.' He turned to the captain. 'Antius – which is the fastest liburnian in the fleet?'
    'That would be the Minerva, admiral. Torquatus's ship. Just back from Ravenna.'
    'Have her made ready to sail at first light.'
    'Yes, admiral.'
    'And I want notices posted on every fountain telling the citizens that rationing is now in force. Water will only be allowed to flow twice each day, for one hour exactly, at dawn and dusk.'
    Antius winced. 'Aren't you forgetting that tomorrow is a public holiday, admiral? It's Vulcanalia, if you recall?'
    'I'm perfectly aware it's Vulcanalia.'
    And so it is, thought Attilius. In the rush of leaving Rome and fretting about the aqueduct he had completely lost track of the calendar. The twenty-third of August, Vulcan's day, when live fish were thrown on to bonfires, as a sacrifice, to appease the god of fire.
    'But what about the public baths?' persisted Antius.
    'Closed until further notice.'
    'They won't like that, admiral.'
    'Well, it can't be helped. We've all grown far too soft, in any case.' He glanced briefly at Pomponianus. 'The Empire wasn't built by men who lazed around the baths all day. It will do some people good to have a taste of how life used to be. Gaius – draft a letter for me to sign to the aediles of Pompeii, asking them to provide whatever men and materials may be necessary for the repair of the aqueduct. You know the kind of thing. "In the name of the Emperor Titus Caesar Vespasianus Augustus, and in accordance with the power vested in me by the Senate and People of Rome, blah blah" – something to make them jump. Corax – it's clear that you know the terrain around Vesuvius better than anyone else. You should be the one to ride out and locate the fault, while the aquarius assembles the main expedition in Pompeii.'
    The overseer's mouth flapped open in dismay.
    'What's the matter? Do you disagree?'
    'No, admiral.' Corax hid his anxiety quickly, but Attilius had noticed it. 'I don't mind looking for the break. Even so, would it not make more sense for one of us to remain at the reservoir to supervise the rationing –'
    Pliny cut him off impatiently. 'Rationing will be the Navy's responsibility. It's primarily a question of public order.'
    For a moment Corax looked as if he might be on the point of arguing, but then he bowed his head, frowning.
    From the terrace came the sound of female