Super Avenged

“Welcome, Miya, to my underwater facility,” Dad said grandly, stepping closer to me. He still smiled that same smile that appeared warm but held more malice than a frown would have. I’d seen the same smile on Brendan before, and suddenly I realized how alike they were...especially when it came to the breaking of my heart.

“B-but you were supposed to be d-dead,” I stammered, staring incredulously at him. Dad smiled wider, showing more and more perfect, sparkling teeth.

“Clearly,” he held his arms out, obviously to emphasize how there he was, “I am alive and well.”

“The rescuers found the debris from the plane...”

“Not the plane, no,” Dad answered. “They found parts of the wings. But I will explain that all in good time. How have you been?”

“Good, until you came along and decided to fuck everything up...again,” I added. Dad smiled still wider.

“Ah, still bitter about the fact that I never supported your artistic endeavors?”

“Of course,” I answered. “And the grief you caused Mom by faking your own death! For what? This?” I motioned around, taking in the robot and the facility beyond. “You chose this over your own family?”

“I did this for my family!” Dad replied. Pain flashed across his face at the mention of Mom. He may not love me, but he really loved Mom. It obviously hurt him for me to thrust the news of Mom’s grief right under his nose.

“I would’ve revealed myself again, once I was finished here!” Dad continued. “And now that I have you, I will be able to return to the surface sooner than I thought...”

“Why the hell did you kidnap me?” I snapped.

“All in good time, my dearest daughter,” Dad answered, his smile returning. “Now, come. I must show you around first...and explain, if that is what you wish.”

He extended an elbow, and reluctantly, I linked my elbow with his. We stepped back down the ramp out of the stomach of the robot. All of the scientists watching this not-so-tearful reunion stood with wide, shocked eyes.

“You mean, Miya Langston is your daughter?” one of them asked, stepping up to my father.

“Yes, Dr. Smithis,” Dad said with a nod of his head. We walked towards the exit. “You know me as Mr. Kintsel, which is my mother’s maiden name. I knew it might distract you if you knew that Miya was my daughter.

“Come, Miya,” Dad added, leading the way out into a hallway. “I would love to take you on a tour of the place.”

“Explain to me how you’re not dead,” I demanded as Dad and I walked.

“I’d been planning that trip to London for a very long time, Miya,” Dad began. “In preparation, I set up a separate bank account that your mother did not know so that I would have funds for this little project of mine. I transferred some of my profits directly into that account. Take into account that this was before your mother got too interested in the proceedings of the business.

“I had this facility built underwater. Outside of this building, there is water exerting tons of pressure upon everything. If someone were to go out there with a pressure suit of some sort on, they’d be crushed into a lump of flesh. It was very secretive, and I was sure no one would ever find it.

“That day, when the plane was heading back to New York City, it ‘crashed’ into the ocean. The wings broke off, and the plane became a submarine. I had a plane built that could also be a submarine, you see. The wings are the debris the rescuers saw. But nobody was harmed. It all went to plan, actually,” Dad finished. We climbed up a flight of steps and emerged into a giant room with a great domed ceiling made completely of glass. Beyond the glass, there was only navy blue darkness. Occasionally, a swish of color would float by, a fish or something maybe.

“This is kind of the hangout,” Dad told me, waving an arm to take in the whole room. “This is where the scientists can rest on their break. The cafeteria is over in the corner. But it is by no means where the scientists spend all their time.”

“So, you faked your death so you could come down here and order around a bunch of scientists?” I asked bluntly as Dad led the way towards another flight of stairs leading down into a different hallway.

“No, no, I didn’t fake my death,” Dad corrected me. “I came down here, and everyone assumed that I had died. Faking my death was never my true intention.”

“But it happened anyway.”

“Only because people only wish to believe what their own eyes can see,” Dad answered. We stepped down the flight of stairs, emerging into a brightly lit hallway with several doors leading off of it. “They saw the debris. They saw no bodies. They instantly thought that the plane had crashed and that all lives were lost. End of story.”

“It would’ve been absolutely silly to think otherwise,” I said.

“It worked to my advantage, anyway,” Dad replied, stopping at a door at the very end of the hallway. He twisted the white doorknob and pushed the door open to reveal a one-room apartment sort of thing. There was a bed, an armchair, a little television, and a tiny kitchen area. Another door led into what I figured was the bathroom.

“This is your living quarters,” Dad announced, stepping into the apartment. “Everything that you will need is right here. That door leads into a bathroom, complete with toilet and shower. I know how picky girls can be when it comes to their hygiene.”

“Why did you kidnap me?” I insisted, glaring angrily at my father. He sighed and led the way back out of the apartment, closing the door behind him. We headed back out into the main room.

“I will show you now.”