Marcus wiped the sweat from his forehead and looked up at the massive stone arches. He was thirteen years old and worked as an apprentice to his uncle, one of the engineers building an aqueduct for the city of Rome. It was the year 50 AD.
"Uncle Gaius, how much longer until the aqueduct is finished?" Marcus asked. "Another two years, perhaps three," his uncle replied, studying the plans drawn on papyrus. "We must be patient. An aqueduct that brings fresh water to Rome must be built perfectly."
Marcus had learned so much in the past year. He now understood how the aqueduct worked. Water from mountain springs flowed through channels built at a slight angle. Gravity pulled the water downward, and it traveled many miles to reach the city.
"Why don't we build it flat?" Marcus had asked when he first started. "Water won't flow uphill or on flat ground," Uncle Gaius explained. "We must measure the slope carefully. Too steep, and the water flows too fast. Too flat, and the water stops moving."
Today, Marcus helped measure distances using a special tool called a groma. He held the wooden frame steady while his uncle sighted along the strings to make sure the new section of aqueduct was perfectly straight.
Stone workers cut and placed each block with amazing precision. The blocks fit together so tightly that no mortar was needed. Marcus ran his hand along the smooth surface, marveling at the craftsmanship.
"This aqueduct will stand for a thousand years," Uncle Gaius said proudly. "Long after we're gone, people will use the water we brought them." Marcus looked at the arches stretching into the distance. He was proud to be part of something so important and lasting.