Octave of Stars Theme Song:
Welcome to the cereal serial version of Octave of Stars! Episodes will release every Monday and Thursday. If you’re finding this story for the first time, be sure to start at Episode 01 for maximum comprehension, or check out The Index for all available Episodes.
No fooling today! In fact, this is one of my favorite scenes in the whole book. I hope you enjoy it as well. —Ed.
I highly recommend you read this on the Substack website or app, as this serial is a multimedia experience. You’ll find many audio embeds below that score the story, and they won’t function as intended in your email client. Only one track can be playing at a time, so when you reach the next one just start it and they won’t overlap. If you like the music you hear, please consider supporting the artists as well.
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Gayle slipped her phone into her jacket pocket and zipped it closed. "She says they took the bait, looks like we're up. You ready for this, hon?"
"Heck yeah!" Azalea raised her fist in the air. "This is gonna be so great."
"Awful nice of your folks to let you skip today."
"Definitely! I have perfect attendance, I pretty much never get sick. I only miss days for really important stuff, like this!"
Gayle and Azalea strode into the lobby of the Tower sure as anything. The taller lady had on her best green jacket and jeans, with a durable backpack strapped on tightly. Her hair was pinned up in a bun, but closer to the back of her neck, for better aerodynamics.
The younger one had coordinated her ensemble around her favorite frog beanie, with dark khaki-colored cargo pants, pockets zipped closed, and her gray fanny pack stuffed full of little paper pouches and plastic bags. Over her light green jacket, both in thickness and in color, she had on a blue rectangular backpack, but it was thin and didn't appear to be holding much at all.
They walked up to the reception desk, brightly smiling Chloe still on duty. "Hello ladies, how can I help you today?" she said.
Gayle smiled at her. "You know what would be really helpful, hon? You hidin' behind that desk for a little while. Looks sturdy enough."
The young woman's brow furrowed. The teenager with the frog hat kept glancing around the lobby, her hands in her jacket pockets. "Umm…" Chloe said, "I'm not sure what you mean."
"Trust me," Gayle continued. "It's for your own good. It's about to get real windy in here, and I wanna make sure everyone comes outta this storm alright."
Chloe tilted her head. "I'm sorry?"
Azalea piped up. "Both elevators are down."
"Good enough." Gayle nodded to the receptionist. "Cowgirls up." She spread her hands to her sides, and the wind whipped around the room at full force. Wide-eyed, Chloe ducked behind her desk, grabbing the phone from atop it.
She pushed the red button near the top of the phone and squeaked into the receiver. "Security, this is the lobby, we have a code thirty-six, supernatural activity reported—"
Gayle didn't hear the rest of it. She had command of the room now, the air inside it belonged to her. While the other receptionists, guests and staff all dove for cover, she knew it wouldn't be long before a uniformed gent would try to brave the storm and come after her. She kept up her little tornado while Azalea looked up at the tall ceiling, a few little somethings clutched in her hands. She nodded.
Gayle raised her voice to be heard over the whirling winds. "Second Samuel, five nineteen?"
Azalea smiled, crouching down. "Should I go up?"
Gayle raised her arm sharply. "Go up!"1 Azalea sailed to the top of the atrium, just as a pair of security guards rounded the corner from behind the elevators. Gayle made sure the bearded gents stayed put by gently knocking them backward into the walls.
The wind roared in Azalea's ears along with the adrenaline. At the apex of her jump, she whipped out one arm, a long vine of exceptionally thick ivy wrapping around the handrail of the bridge which connected two sides of the same floor. She used the vine to swing around to the other side, dropping to the floor safely. "And she sticks the landing!" No other bridges, so it was over to the walls.
The elevator buttons didn't respond. She fit a small brown seed in between the doors, the papery tip sticking out, just enough contact to start the process. "Seed in the hole!" she yelled as the metal doors were wrenched open by the huge maple root that materialized between them. Quickly running back to the bridge, she released a handful of colorful petals into the air, drifting in random directions.
On the lobby floor, Gayle saw the signal, then went back to staring down the handful of uniformed fellows who had assembled around her, each dressed in matching dark blue pants and button up shirts, baseball caps with the Frost logo displayed proudly on the front. Her eyes darted between them, waiting for a last-minute rush.
"Have fun boys, but I gotta fly." She waved to them as she ascended, confident and controlled, a storm of papers and envelopes following her up. At the span bridge, Gayle flew right to the elevator door Azalea had forced open, gliding inside the shaft, then grabbing Azalea around the waist from where she had been holding on to the service ladder behind the doors.
At the top, Azalea jumped back onto the ladder, tossing a growing tangle of roots and thorns into the pulleys at the ceiling, overwhelming the mechanism in moments.
"One less way for them to follow us!" Azalea said. Gayle pulled the doors apart while in mid-air, then they crossed through into the next challenge.
The hallway was lined with bright windows, and right away two guards charged at them. A whirling gust of wind sent the curly-haired one spinning to land on his stomach, while the bald one dove to the side, allowing the girls to leap over top of them as they ran down the passageway. "See you round, fellas," Gayle called back to them. She pushed the air out of the way, allowing Azalea to skip along behind her in her wake.
A narrow stairway angled backward to the upper floor; both ladies bounced up three or four steps at a time. Upon reaching the next landing, they screeched to a halt. Azalea quickly popped her slingshot to the ready position as four guards approached, two from each side.
"I'll take right," Gayle said, and Azalea confirmed by launching pumpkins to the left. The thin-faced guard tried to defend, but only bounced the vegetable off his forearms and into his slender partner. With one target down, Azalea aimed lower, knocking the first guard in the knees and bringing him to the floor. They floundered on the ground for a few moments while Azalea ran around the edge of the landing.
Gayle's dance partners were a little more coordinated, both firing tasers at the same time. "Those're dangerous." She blew the prong ends back into the gut of the long-nosed one on the right, the one with glasses met a similar fate. She jumped to the left, over the other two, catching up with Azalea quickly.
Around the corner from the landing was an open balcony. Gayle jumped them both up and skipped a floor entirely. Azalea pointed toward the opposite end of the room. "There's the elevator!" Between them and their destination were dozens of open desks, but the office workers had already evacuated. In their place was a whirring swarm of drones, the kind Ash had told stories about encountering at the hotel.
"C'mon, that's too easy," Gayle said, until she heard sharp tranquilizer darts come flying at them. A quick gust deflected those, but the next ones could fire any second.
"I can maybe take a few down," Azalea said, raising her slingshot.
"Gotta better idea." Gayle roused the room upward, sending a cascade of papers and other loose materials along with it. She grabbed Azalea's hand and pulled her forward through the storm, dodging left and right around desks to avoid the confused automatons spinning around in midair, unable to track anything but the sheets of paperwork blowing in all directions. Their programming was determined to try anyway, as a few glinting darts flew in several directions.
"Look out!" Azalea called, as a projectile streaked toward them. She leaped forward, blocking the dart with her shoulder just as Gayle passed it. "Owie," Azalea said, pulling it out and throwing it on the floor as they advanced.
"Thanks, hon."
"No problem!"
They skidded to a halt in front of the elevator doors. "Try to get that open," Gayle said, "I'll watch our backs."
Azalea ran her hands over the edges. "This one is really tight, I dunno if I can get a seed inside." She vainly tried pulling it open.
"Stop right there!" came a male voice from around the corner. At the same moment, a buzzing drone came careening out of the paper storm, its stunner sparking wildly. Gayle was running out of air to move around, but tried anyhow. The oncoming drone was whirled sideways, toward the bewildered guard, his blue eyes wide with fright at the oncoming missile. It struck him head on, dropping him to the floor and both going still.
"Nice work," Azalea said. "This one is too stuck, though, we should find another—" The door sprung open, revealing a bushy-haired man behind it. He grabbed for Azalea, who skipped backward, then he leveled his taser at Gayle. She couldn't blow him away in this tight of a space without cracking his skull on the wall, so she had to take his breath away.
Gayle pulled the air immediately around him and held it behind her, causing him to come up short in shock, his eyes bulging as he gasped for breath that no longer existed. New air would have rushed in to replace it, had she not also kept it at bay. In the state he was in, Gayle easily grabbed his taser out of his hand and tossed it aside, where Azalea gingerly picked it up and kicked it toward the desks. Gayle forced him to the floor and applied a cable tie to his wrists, where he was out of the vacuum bubble and breathing again.
The unfortunate fellow gasped the life back into his lungs, managing to croak out a weak "thank you."
Azalea ran into the elevator and held the door open while Gayle frowned down at him. "I don't wanna hurt y'all." She stepped over him toward the open door. "I just wanna help my friends."
Azalea bounced on her toes in the elevator while it slowly climbed upward. "We're doing great, how high are we?"
Gayle pulled out the watch-like altimeter from her coat pocket. "'Bout nine hundred feet."
"Okay, so the ground level was six hundred and twelve feet, and…" Azalea did the math in her head as best she could. "We should almost be at the twenty-fourth floor!"
"Sounds about right," Gayle said, leaning against the wall and catching her breath, which she found a little ironic. "Sorry about you havin' to see me do that to the last fella, I don't like doin' it unless I cain't help it."
Azalea nodded. "It's alright. We're doing this the right way, I know we are."
Gayle smiled back at her. "I wanna make sure they all go back to their families tonight."
"Yeah," Azalea said, grinning. She took on an even more childish voice than usual. "What happened at work today, daddy?" then changed to a mock baritone. "Oh nothing, I just saw two of the most awesome ladies ever blow through the building and rescue their friends. But I'm fine, don't worry."
She laughed, and Gayle chuckled along.
The elevator slowed, the lights above the door showed they were nearing the top.
"You ready?" Gale asked.
"So ready," Azalea said, gripping her slingshot tight. "But first," she held out her hand and Gayle took it. "Dear Jesus, please send your angels to guide us and protect everyone in this building."
"Amen," Gayle said, closing her eyes. "Everyone's gonna survive this storm," she said firmly, as the door slid open.
A blast of air preceded their exit, which caught a scared guard with light brown skin unaware. Gayle rushed him and cuffed him on the ground, while Azalea stayed in the elevator and picked off the handful of his confederates patrolling the area. She fired a huge green cabbage, nailing a guard with a long mustache directly in the stomach.
"Ka-pow!" she cheered. Once Gayle had secured them all, Azalea stepped out of the lift and stared upward. "Wow…" She gawked at the sight. This was an open chamber, like the lobby below, walls of windows and brilliant natural light, with seating areas scattered around to relax. The two most prominent features, however, were the enormous sky bridge spanning the room and the massive tree.
The dark brown, many-branched elm stood as a tall sentinel in the upper atrium, anchored in a large ring of dirt that had to extend deep into the floor below it. "Amazing…" Azalea said. "How in the world did they get it to grow in here?"
Gayle gave her a concerned look.
"Oh wait." Azalea chuckled, then sprouted a marigold and tossed it backward at the incapacitated guards. "But hey, why don't we go up there, Gayle?" she asked, pointing to the sky bridge. "It looks like it would save us a bunch of time."
"Too risky," Gayle said at once. "I hear a lotta voices and boots up there, they probably expect us to fly up, so they're waitin'." She got her bearing from the sun shining through the windows. "If my reckonin' is right, we should be able to get to another shaft thataway."
"Great! Let's go!"
The ladies walked swiftly forward, not running if they needed to stop quickly. Gayle pressed against the wall of the atrium, peering around the corner of the hallway she had recommended. "We're beyond the regular office floors," she said, "so the only people up here'll be guards and scientists. We gotta keep an eye out for ambush, always."
"Okay," Azalea said, poised behind her.
They made their way down the long hallway, lit brightly from above. It reminded Azalea of the times she had visited her mother in the hospital; the floor was highly polished, the décor designed to calm and soothe. Warm colors and potted office plants were frequent.
Gayle stopped at a junction and frowned, considering one path, then the other.
Azalea kept her back to Gayle, watching the way they came. "Everything alright?"
"Gonna find out," Gayle said, pulling out her lighter and a cigarette.
"Gayle," Azalea admonished. "This is no time for a smoke, and inside even!"
"Keep your fanny pack on," she chided back, then took a deep drag, turning half the cigarette to ashes. She removed it from her mouth and blew the billowing smoke down one end of the hallway, revealing a network of ominous red laser lines.
Azalea gaped at this new revelation. "Oh boy."
"Don't go that way," Gayle said, dropping the cigarette and crushing it out.
"Got it." Azalea stepped up to a harmless potted plant positioned right before the lasers, and helped twist its long fleshy leaves into several knots. "There, he'll help us remember."
Gayle smirked. "What a gent."
The non-trapped hallway eventually curved to the left. They kept watch for stairwells or elevator shafts. After a few yards, it angled upward, and after they crested the rise, the path curved to the right. As they came around that corner, it was clear their momentary reprieve was over.
Two guards were stationed in the middle of this hallway, next to a large indoor bamboo. As a reflex, Azalea let off a heavy gourd at the one on the right, then realized what they were up against. Each fellow was dressed in black, rather than dark blue, and wore round metal helmets enclosing their heads, which would have caused the well-aimed pumpkin to just bounce off harmlessly, had her target not deflected it with the large transparent shield he carried. In his other hand was a long black baton, which was troublesome enough before it hummed and crackled with electricity.
"Gayle, can you knock 'em over?" Azalea asked, but her question answered itself. Each trooper moved forward, but instead of walking, they rolled. In place of boots, each wore a kind of miniature tank tread assembly on their feet, which gripped the floor tightly and allowed them to close the distance toward the girls much faster than they would when running.
"Black Holes," Gayle said. "Crack troops. They know all our tricks. Cain't steal their breath, neither, 'cause of those space helmets."
"Run away?" Azalea proposed, just as another rumbling noise came from behind, and a third Black Hole arrived at the bottom of the last incline behind them.
"Not yet," Gayle said, and blew the air forward and backward at the same time, slowing the progress of each trooper, not halting them entirely.
This gave Azalea time to think, running through her inventory of seeds once again for a solution. After a moment, she grinned. "Alright then, we need to mix it up a little. Gayle, I think it's time we made some salsa."
"Huh?"
"Tomatoes and onions," Azalea said, holding seeds in her nimble fingers. "Let's try."
"You lead," she answered, while Azalea took aim.
The girl moved quickly, letting off a pumpkin toward one Black Hole's feet. He lowered his shield to protect the mechanisms, leaving his head open, which she pelted with several juicy tomatoes. Gayle focused a jet of air at his helmet, drying the wet mess into a sticky mess, completely obscuring his vision. Azalea followed up with a large papery onion toward his feet, the thin outer layers quickly jamming up the treads and leaving him blind and stuck. His partner saw the game, and raised his shield to protect his own mask, but left his feet exposed, which Azalea disabled similarly. Both Black Holes were now fumbling with their equipment, getting their respective helmets and boots off to continue pursuit, but the winds around them changed as the Stars slipped by. Gayle blasted their backs, knocking over the trooper with one boot unbuckled. The third Black Hole from below drove up and tried to help his comrades, their targets already disappeared around the corner.
The intruders ducked into a stairwell, Azalea tying the door handle to the handrail with a tough binding of ivy. "Just in case those guys can actually climb stairs at all," she said. After exiting on the next floor, they found an open hallway straight ahead, with no opposition.
Gayle reconnoitered, watching and listening. "This looks like a straight shot," she gestured to the open hallway ahead, "but we better go quick in case someone catches up."
Azalea zipped her pockets closed. "I'm ready!"
Gayle ran forward, Azalea behind, watching left and right for any danger. These rooms looked like little offices and lab spaces; some had desks and bookshelves, others, tables full of equipment, but not a soul in sight. About halfway down the passage, Gayle felt the air shift again and stopped. Azalea skipped forward for a few steps, then the shutters fell, large metal sheets clashing down before each doorway. Gayle looked up just in time to see a panel in the ceiling open.
"Watch out!" Gayle exploded the air between them, causing her to fly backward and Azalea to go forward, each out of the path of the heavy screen that bisected the hallway. After skidding to a stop on her boots, Gayle came up and tried to heft the shutter by one of its ridges, but to no avail.
Azalea landed with one hand on the floor, pushed back up and ran to the metal barrier. "Gayle! Are you okay?"
"I'm fine, how 'bout you?" her voice came from the other side.
"Totally good, but what now? I don't think I can break through this at all." She felt along the seams for any kind of opening.
"Don't worry about that, you just keep goin'. You remember where we're headed, right?"
Azalea nodded. "Thirtieth floor, south side."
"Good. I'll meet you there, then."
"But Gayle," she said nervously. "I don't know if I can do this by myself…"
Gayle smiled. "'Course you can. You're the weakest member of the team, remember?"
Azalea bit her bottom lip, her anxiety quickly reforming into determination. Her heart-flower opened up a little more, the Little Flower who was rooting for her in Heaven cheering louder. "Okay. Be safe, love you!"
"Love you too, hon."
Octave of Stars is currently airing on Substack for free, with two of the 45 total posts per week. It’ll be fully released at the end of April 2024. If you don’t want to wait that long, you can get the entire story right now, in either Ebook or paperback. Every purchase supports the ZMT Books mission of family-friendly entertainment.
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Azalea’s been waiting SO LONG to use that joke