That might not have been so bad if visibility had been better, but visibility wasn’t better. In fact, it stank. True, Hell’s trio of moons were all large and bright, but that actually made things worse, not better, for two of them—Tartarus and Niflheim—were above the horizon simultaneously, and the confusion of shadow and brightness those competing light sources cast across the tangled, uneven jungle canopy did bewildering things to human vision. Nor was Camp Inferno likely to offer much in the way of a landmark when they finally reached it. Presumably the jungle had been cut back immediately around it, if only to give the Peep shuttle pilots clearance on their grocery runs, but even a large clearing could disappear without any effort at all against such a confusing sea of treetops and shadow. And without electrical power, the kind of artificial light spill which might have been visible at long range was highly unlikely.

All of which meant the shuttles were going to spend more time than anyone liked to think about cruising around looking for their destination. Which not only increased the possibility that some weather sat or some unnoticed recon sat was going to spot them, but also the possibility that someone on the ground was going to hear them and wonder what SS aircraft were doing overhead in the middle of the night.

Which wouldn’t be a problem, Honor thought, sitting in the copilot’s seat of Tremaine’s shuttle and peering out through the windscreen, if we could be sure StateSec hasn’t planted informers down there. And much as I hate to admit it, if I were StateSec, this is one camp where I’d make darn sure I had at least one or two spies in place.

“We ought to have seen something by now, Ma’am,” Tremaine said. Most people would never have noticed the strain in his voice, but Honor had known him since he was a brand-new ensign on his first deployment, and she turned to give him one of her half-smiles.

“Patience, Scotty,” she said. “Patience. We’ve hardly started looking yet.”

He grimaced at his controls, then sighed and forced his shoulders to relax.

“I know, Ma’am,” he admitted. “And I know anything down there is going to be the next best thing to invisible, but—” He broke off and shrugged again, and she chuckled.

“But you want to spot it anyway and get down on the ground where it’s safe, right?” she suggested.

“Well, actually, yes, Ma’am.” He turned his head to grin back at her. “I guess I always have been a little on the impatient side, haven’t I?”

“Just a little,” she agreed.

“Well, I come by it naturally,” he said, “and—”

“ ’Scuse me, Mr. Tremaine,” a voice broke in over the com, “but I think I see something.”

“And where would that happen to be, Chief?” Tremaine inquired. “You really ought to be a bit more precise in making these minor sighting reports, you know,” he added severely.