Now she knew where he’d gotten it from, she thought wryly, and leaned back against the tree trunk while Tomas’ father digested what she’d told him.

I wonder what the odds are? she thought once more. Ramirez beat the numbers badly enough just to survive to reach Hell, but that I should run into him like this—? She shook her head in the darkness which had fallen with the passing of the sun. On the other hand, I’ve always suspected God must have a very strange sense of humor. And if Ramirez was going to get here at all—and not get himself shot for making trouble—it was probably inevitable he’d wind up at Inferno. And given that “troublemakers” are exactly what I need if I’m going to pull this off at all, I suppose it was equally inevitable that we should meet.

“All right, I understand what you want, Commodore Harrington,” the deep voice rumbled suddenly out of the darkness, “but do you realize what will happen if you try this and fail?”

“We’ll all die,” Honor said quietly.

“Not just ‘die,’ Commodore,” Ramirez said flatly. “If we’re lucky, they’ll shoot us during the fighting. If we’re unlucky, we’ll be ’Kilkenny Camp Number Three.’ ”

“Kilkenny?” Honor repeated, and Ramirez laughed with no humor at all.

“That’s the Black Legs’ term for what happens when they stop sending in the food supplies,” he told her. “They call it the ’Kilkenny Cat’ method of provisioning. Don’t you know the Old Earth story?”

“Yes,” Honor said sickly. “Yes, I do.”

“Well, they think it’s funny, anyway,” Ramirez said. “But the important thing is for you to realize the stakes you’re playing for here, because if you—if we—blow it, every human being in this camp will pay the price right along with us.” He exhaled sharply in the darkness. “It’s probably been just as well that was true, too,” he admitted. “If it weren’t—if I’d only had to worry about what happened to me—I probably would have done something outstandingly stupid years ago. And then who would you have to try this outstandingly stupid trick with?”

A flicker of true humor drifted out of the night to her, carried over her link to Nimitz, and she smiled.

“It’s not all that stupid, Commodore,” she said.

“No… not if it works. But if it doesn’t—” She sensed his invisible shrug. Then he was silent for the better part of two minutes, and she was content to leave him so, for she could feel the intensity of his thought as yet again his brain examined the rough plan she’d outlined for him, turning it over and over again to consider it from all directions.

“You know,” he said thoughtfully at last, “the really crazy thing is that I think this might just work. There’s no fallback position if it doesn’t, but if everything breaks right, or even half right, it actually might work.”

“I like to think I usually give myself at least some chance for success,” Honor said dryly, and he laughed softly.