The city of London sought in the heat of summer, 1858. But it was not merely the sun that baked the metropolis. An even more repellent force infested its very heart: the River Thames. Years of industrial effluents had transformed London's lifeblood into a foul-smelling mire. The stench was all-consuming, a miasma that clung to every cobblestone and

The year eight hundred forty-five AD. A chill wind whistled across the Seine River, carrying with it the scent carrying salt and fear. The Norsemen had arrived, a stormy swarm of warriors seeking riches. Their longships, like serpents, sliced through the waters, their banners waving in the wind. A city once proud now trembled beneath the menace of