Free The Glorious Becoming by Lee Stephen

heated rivalry and recreational... something. Or maybe more than something. She didn’t know. Mark was hard to figure out, and if she was being honest, she wasn’t quite sure she knew how she felt about him, either. At times, she felt close to him. At other times, the mere sight of him raised her blood pressure. They had a certain chemistry. It just tended to be flammable.
    “This isn’t even about last night, is it?” She spoke softly despite the seriousness of her words. “This is about Tom.”
    “I don’t want Tom messing with you. I want you to tell me when he does.”
    “So you’ll what? Get in a fight?”
    He was silent for a moment. “If I have to.”
    “He made a remark. That’s just what he does.”
    “Not to you.”
    Catalina turned around. “You really upset me last night. You left me behind. You assumed I’d be okay—you assumed . Is that all I’m worth? An assumption?”
    “Cat...”
    “No, Mark, I need you to listen.” When he fell quiet, she continued. “I want you to be there. That’s it. I don’t want you to leave me behind while you go off saving the day.” It was a dual-purpose statement. She wanted to feel worth something to him. She also didn’t want him stealing any potential thunder. As to which part bore more weight, she wasn’t quite sure.
    “Cat, we’re soldiers.”
    “I know we’re soldiers. We’re the best damn soldiers on this team. But that doesn’t mean I’m okay with you leaving me behind. What’s that translate to off the battlefield?”
    His expression became annoyed.
    “That’s why I’m upset. If you left me behind there, will you leave me behind here?”
    “Not two weeks ago, I asked you straight up if you loved me, and you told me no,” he said. “Now what the hell is this?”
    “Forget love, I’m not even talking about love. I’m talking about trust.”
    “It’s burning.”
    She looked at him strangely. “What?”
    “Your waffle. It’s burning.”
    Turning around, Catalina looked at the waffle. Gray smoke was rising from the machine as a burnt odor hit her nostrils. “Veck!” She lifted the lid, exposing the char beneath. Grabbing a spatula, she pried the burnt waffle from the maker. She switched the device off. “Nice job, Cat,” she mumbled to herself. Discarding her would-be breakfast in the garbage, she turned around.
    Mark was gone.
    Placing her hands on her hips in frustration, Catalina scanned the cafeteria. He was nowhere to be seen—not even at the table. He’d made his exit. “This is why I don’t love you,” she said disgustedly. “If you wanted to know.”
    Catalina eventually did get her waffle, at which point she collected herself and walked back to the table. Leslie and Frank were still there, engaged in what sounded like a fairly technical discussion about medical scanners. Before too long, Tiffany joined them, and the conversation became much more frivolous. They discussed everything from the previous night’s mission, to the training Javon was attempting to organize, to how Tiffany could stomach eating an omelet with ketchup. They discussed everything a unit full of young people should.
    Mark’s name never came up.

6
    MONDAY, MARCH 12 TH , 0012 NE
    0707 HOURS
    NOVOSIBIRSK, RUSSIA
    FOUR DAYS LATER
    I TS TEN FINGERS —talonless, crimson-purple claws—curled purposefully around the bar over its head. Tightening firmly, its wrists and forearms hardened. Amid the quivering of focused breathing, the alien pulled itself off the ground.
    “Kaat.”
    Exposed abdominal muscles tensed as the motion was repeated.
    “Kaat-ya.”
    And again.
    “Kaanis.”
    So far as captives were concerned, the Bakma was a marvel. The heaping muscles of its upper and lower back constricted then released as the upward and downward motions continued.
    “Kyotaana. Kyonassa. Nek`raa.”
    Behind the Bakma, the cell door slid open. Releasing the bar, the alien landed in a solid crouching position, one hand touching the floor as it slowly