Chapter Seventeen: The Woman Following Me

The next morning, Ada quietly slipped out of the apartment.

Due to Earth's longitude, dawn in Singapore breaks later than on the easternmost islands of Indonesia.

Just after six o'clock, the streets were still devoid of sunlight.

Yet everywhere, the activities of AI were in full swing.

From the odd-numbered alley, bionic women of various skin tones filed out in orderly procession.

They walked along the correct routes, arriving at the charging station at the end of the long street.

Each raised her head to have her eyeballs scanned, allowing the station's system to verify that her human owner’s account was properly topped up.

Then, one by one, they approached the hive-like cabinets, turned around, and began recharging their power.

A garbage truck rolled slowly past the charging station and stopped fifty meters away, outside a bak kut teh restaurant.

Two AIs disembarked from the truck.

Unlike robots designed to satisfy “sexual” needs, these garbage collectors’ humanoid features were not central to market demand.

Their task was simply to lift trash bins accurately, empty them, lightly clean the bins, and return them to their original spots.

Therefore, their facial features and body contours looked rough and unrefined, more like characters from the human sandbox game “Minecraft,” compared to the sex and service industry robots at the charging station.

Beside Ada, two local men who had just sat down at a roadside breakfast stall began chatting idly.

“Honestly, those robot princesses coming out of the odd-numbered alley really look like real people.”

“Ah Hua said they serve just like the real thing, and the price is cheap. The bosses don’t have to worry; the robots recharge themselves. They’re easier to manage than living employees. No wonder the girls on the even-numbered alley complain about losing customers.”

One of the men, breaking a soft-boiled egg into a dish, glanced at Ada as she placed her order and continued casually, “Well, women are okay. They don’t dare commit serious crimes without work. But look at these past years — there are far fewer foreign male laborers in garbage collection and construction. Robots have replaced them. What happens to these young men without jobs? Isn’t that dangerous?”

The other man, chewing bread smeared with kaya jam, shrugged dismissively. “That’s just an excuse to send real people to fight wars. Lots of them die, so there are fewer problems. Or scientists can figure out which planet in space to colonize.”

“You’re heartless,” the man sucking on his soft-boiled egg chuckled. “Thirty or forty years ago, we were just like them. Now when I see them, I feel quite sympathetic.”

The bread-eating man scoffed. “It’s not me who keeps making more and more robots. I’m just stating the thoughts of those really heartless rich folks who think they’re playing God.”

Ada kept her back to the two men but used the OP2 vision system at the back of her neck to glance at them.

The bread-eater’s prediction wasn’t far off. The displaced lower-class laborers indeed later became soldiers.

Only, they did not appear on battlefields between human nations. Instead, they were recruited by AI leadership groups to purge living human communities above their social class.

But Ada’s OP2 vision soon shifted from the men to a woman across the street.

She was dressed like the many women in Singapore who loved morning runs, wearing tight-fitting “borobudur papaya” sportswear.

Her face flushed and dripping with sweat, she was panting while holding her phone up to take pictures.

She appeared to be resting for a few minutes after aerobic exercise.

Yet, suddenly, her phone shifted from capturing the morning glow to aiming steadily at the breakfast stall where Ada stood, barely moving after that.

Ada adjusted her OP2 to a 400mm telephoto lens and discreetly took a close-up shot of the woman’s face.

Ten seconds later, the result popped up in Ada’s mind.

Among the female activists from yesterday’s news advocating for AI to fully dominate the “sex” and service industries, one face matched the woman standing across the street.

Ada deliberately kept her back turned to the fitness woman. Even after accepting the takeaway breakfast from the shop owner, she remained bent over a nearby table, retying her shoelaces.

The fitness woman continued photographing without pause.

Only when Ada picked up the takeout box and clearly prepared to leave the breakfast shop did the woman put down her phone, bounce a few times, and resume jogging.

Ada walked leisurely away from the Ronan apartment.

The OP2 at the back of her neck immediately caught that the woman, who had started running ahead, looked back in confusion.

This woman was suspicious!

She was following Ada!

Ada reached a preliminary conclusion.

She pretended to admire the display window outside a souvenir shop a hundred meters away, then turned back into the alley where the artist Ronan’s apartment was located.

Throughout, the fitness woman remained within Ada’s rear-vision system coverage.

Only when Ada disappeared deep into the alley did the woman run off.

...

When Ada entered, Zhou Yongtai was already awake and tidying the sofa and folding bed.

Since Zhou’s mother had passed, Ada’s guidance and supervision had helped the boy maintain good habits of cleanliness and order.

Ada placed two breakfasts on the table. “These are for you both. I’ve already eaten at the food court.”

Ronan, freshly washed, came to the table and thanked her repeatedly.

Both Zhou Yongtai and Ada noticed the scent of aftershave for the first time.

On the deserted island, when Zhou Yongtai began growing a beard, Ada had only rough, primitive coconut oil soap to make foam and teach him how to shave.

As a human male, Zhou was instantly attracted by the scent of aftershave, feeling it was the fragrance that should grace his face.

Noticing Zhou staring at Ronan, Ada quickly spoke up. “Mr. Ronan, after breakfast, we’ll go out to look for work. We won’t be at your place during the day.”

The words “look for work” stirred Ronan’s empathy for their plight and gave him the opportunity to make a request.

“Mr. Zhou, Miss Ada, if you have time these days, could you be my models? I’d like to complete a few portrait paintings. Rent and modeling fees could be offset. How about it?”

Zhou looked at Ada, who replied succinctly, “Alright, we can start painting tonight.”

Ada’s efficiency in action matched her efficient speech.

An hour later, Ada had taken Zhou Yongtai to a mobile phone shop in Geylang, equipping them with devices for communication in this world.

China’s largest phone brand was running a promotion to celebrate Singapore’s 70th National Day.

A smartphone with consumer-grade AI features cost only 99 Singapore dollars, plus a free 59-dollar monthly Singtel call and data package.

Crucially, no permit was required; the shop said this was to facilitate tourists entering on visitor visas, and it was definitely legal.

Upon leaving the phone store, Zhou noticed Ada’s expression had slowed in its usual rapid shifts.

“There’s an AI charging station up ahead,” Zhou urged somewhat anxiously.

“No,” Ada denied. “I checked it this morning; the charging station’s interface is special. I can’t use it. We’ll take the bus to Ruqie Road. If all goes well, after recharging, we can head to your grandparents’ photo studio.”