He announced that, since the lab hadn’t blown up, they were going back for some “sport.” Once they were aboard, they were to round up the scientists and kill them any way they wanted. The men he brought in the shuttle were his most cold-blooded killers. They were to spare Zavala, who would be thrown into the medusa tank. Dr. Wu would record his death on video so his final moments could be transmitted to Austin.

Carrying its cargo of murderers, the shuttle descended to the transit hub. The pilot activated the shuttle’s airlock. Minutes later, Chang and his followers burst out of the airlock and almost stumbled over a box of C-4. A length of colored wires had been tied in a bow and placed on top of the carton. And resting against the bow was a white envelope with CHANG on it in big block letters.

The man who had set up the explosives picked up the cluster of wires.

“Nothing to worry about,” he said. “These wires aren’t connected to anything.”

He handed the envelope to Chang, who ripped it open. Inside was a piece of stationery with a Davy Jones’s Locker logo on it. The paper had been folded in three. Printed on the first panel was

BANG!

Chang quickly unfolded the paper. There was a smiley face on the next panel and

JUST KIDDING!

The last panel read

I’M IN THE CONTROL ROOM.

Chang crumpled the paper and ordered his men to search the complex. They came back a few minutes later and reported that the complex appeared deserted and that wires had been torn from all the C-4.

Chang stormed off to the control room, only to pause at the door. Suspecting that the room had been booby-trapped, he sent his men in first.

They scoured the room and reported back to Chang that it too was deserted and that nothing was amiss. He stepped in to see for himself. He glanced around, his scowl deepening. He wanted somebody to take his fury out on. He saw Dr. Wu filming the room.

“Not now, you fool!” Chang shouted. “Can’t you see there’s nobody here?”

A metallic voice issued from the wall speakers.

“You’re right, Chang. You and your pals are the only ones on the lab.”

Chang wheeled around, the stock of the machine pistol tight against his chest.

“Who’s that?”

“SpongeBob SquarePants,” the voice said.

“Austin!”

“Okay, I confess, Chang. You got me. It’s Kurt Austin.”

Chang’s eyes narrowed to slits.

“What happened to the scientists?” he asked.

“They are no longer on the lab, Chang. They left in the minisubs.”

“Don’t toy with me, Austin. I destroyed the subs’ power circuits.”

A different voice came on the speaker: Phelps.

“Those were backup circuits you stomped on,” he said. “The subs were fully operable, boss.”

“Phelps?” Chang exclaimed. “I thought you were dead.”