Free Archaea by Dain White

docking approach for hang-on transient berth. Please advise, over..."
    As I worked, bathed in the ruddy glow of Jupiter, I couldn't help but think of the path my life had taken and the choices I have made leading up to where I am now.
    When I sat down to start coding an AI, I had no idea at the time my very existence would be someday controlled by the work I was doing, but that's where I found myself, approaching Europa Station, neck-deep in logic I barely understood.
    "Archaea, Europa Station- we show you on course for intercept in 543 seconds. Please come about to 235 and burn for course to ring 20, port 5. You will be met for clearance and sludging, over..."
    "Copy Europa Station, we are translating to 235 and making course for ring 20." The captain yawed the Archaea and fired an insertion burn to match vector with ring 20 of this massive, ancient station.
    The view forward as we approached the station was that of a series of rings, 20 in all, orbiting a center cylindrical hub that remained at null-g.
    Built on the old centripetal ring model, Europa station started as an out-system refueling depot, a role it fills to this day, but had been expanded over the centuries to house trans-ship warehouses for various gloms vying for profit margins on the surface and subsurface stations on Europa.
    The discovery of water ice, and later surveys of liquid water under the ice, led to a boom of exploration and mineral rights acquisitions, as various gloms raced each other to gain a foothold in a moon that was found to be rich in trans-uranics and other heavy elements trapped in solution in the ebon depths.
    Maybe it was due to the inhospitable frozen landscape of Europa, or the spartan accommodations on or under the surface, but Europa Station was never developed for amenities or tourism – not even the more extreme adventure tourists sought out Europa as a destination.
    Aside from commercial research stations, labs, trans-ship ports and other materials processing facilities, there was not much else.
    Europa Station was all business, and no pleasure.
     
    *****
     
    I had been in far worse places – muddy foxholes, frozen corn stubble smelling cordite and diesel, or huddled in an icy bivvy sack listening for incoming arty through the shriek of a howling arctic storm. Compared to having sweat and sand for a bed, the accommodations on this ship were luxurious - far better than the rentables on Luna Farside, where I'd spent the past few months. My stateroom was clean, solid, with a decent drop bunk, a comfortable console station, and an enclosed head that was almost big enough to stand up in.
    I noted the maneuvering alert on my console and felt the thrust of a slight course change, a slight feeling of disorientation as the port-side bulkhead became 'down', but nothing to worry about. I kicked loose from my bunk and looked around my stateroom.
    I drifted a little amidships of the grabber I had hold of, feeling the shift and changes in inertia as the Archaea translated to a new heading. We must be coming in on approach to Europa Station, though I am having a hard time believing it. Less than an hour ago I was shaking the captain's hand and just moments later, we were five AUs out-system. I hardly had time to sit in my bunk and this mission was damn near wrapped.
    I sat down at the com station and posted mail through the Unet to my contact, to try and find out where to meet and when. Practically the same moment I hit send, a response came back flagged ultra-priority, encoded of course.
    "Confirm arrival, meet 2345 local ring 10 at lock 5. Eyes on, be careful", it read. I am not sure what those directions mean, but the captain ought to be able to orient me. Eyes on must mean I'll be watched, but by who?
    As these thoughts were running through my mind, I was checking the charge on my railer – a wicked accurate and deadly weapon - easy to conceal, fast to fire, and a perfect close-in combat weapon. I had it loaded with sodiumite needles