Read Online Offworld by Robin Parrish - Free Book Online

girl, for her part, appeared oddly detached. She examined
all four of them as though they were vague curiosities she'd never
encountered before, but nothing important enough to be excited
about.
    Her appearance was a peculiar balance of appalling and charming. Not a single garment was correct in size, and nearly everything
was torn, with fringes around the edges and dirt stains all over.
Mismatched socks were covered by tennis shoes that barely clung to
her feet. She wore a hooded sweat shirt, only its arms had been cut
off, letting her dark, tanned skin show through. Indeed, all of her
visible skin was a dark shade of amber, leathery and hidelike, and
her cheeks were burned red from too much sun exposure. She had
three tiny braids in her hair on one side, with a few charms flopping
around on the ends.
    The girl's expression struck Chris as almost innocent and full
of wonder. Yet there was something about her eyes that seemed to
counteract this effect. Her irises were a curious shade of silver; they
were more than beautiful, they were haunting, almost inhuman. Captivating and magnetic. Once Chris gazed into her eyes, he found it hard to turn away. They looked as though they had seen too much of
the grays of life and had taken on this peculiar hue as a reflection. It
seemed to Chris that she was sizing him up, and his friends as well,
with those weary, entrancing eyes.

    "Who're you?" she asked.
    Chris blinked. That wasn't what he'd expected. He didn't have
a conceited fiber in his body, but the four of them were historical
figures, internationally famous, and he found it difficult to believe
that anyone could be so out of touch with world events. "Who are
you?" he replied.
    Asked you first," she shot back.
    Chris tossed a look at Trisha, hoping for help, but she was projecting distrust, rooted to her spot and squinting at the girl.
    "Well," he began, "we're the crew of the Ares."
    "What's a air-ease?"
    Chris took a moment to regroup, his mind working hard to blunt
his memorized talking points and NASA-speak. "We're astronauts.
We've been in space for a few years, and we just got back."
    "You was what dropped out of the sky," the girl observed. "Thought
that was a falling star."
    "You've really never heard of us?" Chris asked.
    "Would remember if I did," she replied. "Got a photogenic
memory."
    Chris blinked. 'A photo-what?"
    "When you remember everything exactly how it was."
    "Yeah, I-I know what it means, I just ..." He shook his head
rapidly, as if trying to shrug off a blow to the skull. "Um, where did
you come from?" he doggedly pressed on.
    She shrugged. "In between."
    "Between what?"
    "The cracks."
    Chris didn't know what to do with that. "What's your name?"

    She recoiled a bit, as though he'd just suggested something absurd,
or offensive. "Don't tell that to strangers."
    He opened his mouth, then closed it. She may have been an adult,
but she didn't sound much like one. He reframed the conversation
in his mind. "Well, I'm Chris. This is Terry," he said, pointing to his
youngest companion, who had slowly made his way closer to the
conversation, "and over there, that's Owen and Trisha. Now we're not
strangers anymore, are we?"
    The girl was still frowning, clearly thinking this over, yet she stood
very still, barely moving at all as the wheels in her mind spun.
    Finally, she said, "Mae"
    "It's a pleasure to meet you, Mae," Terry said, offering her his
hand. Her eyes fell to the hand he held out in front of her, and simply
lingered there. She made no effort to return the gesture, but there
was no coldness in her manner.
    Trisha cleared her voice loudly, and Chris knew what that meant.
"Mae, could you give us just a minute?"
    She shrugged, indifferent, and leaned over, sifting through the
inside of her car.
    Chris and Terry joined the others behind the SUV, and the four
of them formed a tight circle.
    "This is so wrong, so much I don't even know where to start,"
Trisha whispered.