Look at her! Glint in her eye, ashy cigarette in her lips, hair tied back and camera poised! Oooh, she's just WAITING to give some poor chowderhead what-for. Charlotte lives in a futuristic world -- well, actually, it's the past -- well, actually, it's kind of chronologically sideways, a sequel to H. G. Wells's . Mars has been rebuffed, Britain has appropriated Martian technology and grown mighty, a counter-strike against Mars is underway, and fat evil wrinkly men conspire to censor the press even as Charlotte throws herself into the pursuit of Scottish bombers and hobnail-booted thugs, all in the name of truth. Goosebumps! She's totally the Helen Thomas of the 1800s. Actually, maybe Helen Thomas is the Helen Thomas of the 1800s.

After the jump: a desert, and the 80s.

War of the Worlds