It occurred to Tanager I that the humans were not dead, by their hopeful definition, but rather in stasis. Then again, they were most definitely dead by biological measures. The contradiction, it supposed, lay at the center of Oriole I’s initial irritation, the argument that had driven them all here. It was tempted to hiss under its breath, like a cat or some other small predator gone feral, but Tanager I did not know what purpose it would serve. It was an instinct, and instincts always made it uncomfortable. The humans had been driven by instinct and now what was left of them was frozen underground.
