Rita pinched herself, but the crazy stubbornly refused to go away. She looked around frantically, gripped by a sudden sense of alienation. Formalwear on every side like something out of a costume drama, missiles on tracked launchers like something out of a North Korean propaganda broadcast: these she could just about deal with. But: space battleships? Reaching into her clutch she pulled out her camera, switched it to record full audio and video, and turned to face the direction everyone else was looking.
