“Who are we going to signal?”

“Just give me a minute.” He flipped up the rear hatch and rummaged around. “Here we go. Jumper cable—yeah, right, like that’ll be useful. Tow rope—no use. Ice scraper—let’s hope it’s no use. Collapsible shovel—no use unless we need to bury one of us.”

“Please!” Hari said.

“Ah! Two flares. Good for heat and light and starting a fire.”

A cold wind had sprung up. The sun was two-thirds gone. Hari took a look around the steadily darkening plateau and saw only flat rock. Not a tree, not a bush, not a blade of grass.

“Hate to be a Debbie Downer, but there’s nothing here to burn.”

“Hey, even I know Debbie Downer. And we can always burn the Tahoe. Look here.”

He held up what looked like a large square of folded aluminum foil.

“We’re going to wrap sandwiches?” she said.

“Survival reflecting blanket. This’ll help us save gas.” As he slammed the rear hatch, he looked up. “Shit.”

“What?”

He pointed at the sky. “Take a look and tell me what you see up there.”

The sun had disappeared and all Hari saw was unrelieved blackness.

“Nothing.”

“Exactly.”

“Well, it is night.”

“No stars, Hari. Not one freaking star up there. Where the fuck are we? I mean, where in the universe is this planet that there are no visible stars? Or is it even in our universe?”

Hari had no answer and she wasn’t about to make up one.

Just then, green lights started wavering across the sky.

Hari pointed. “Those look like—”

“The Northern lights. Or for all we know they could be the Southern Lights here. It’s a sign this planet has a magnetic field that’s protecting us from at least some radiation.”

Hari nodded appreciatively. “You know all sorts of good nerdy stuff, don’t you.”

“Mostly useless nerdy stuff.”

“Either that or you’re an excellent bullshitter.”

“Actually, I’m a pretty bad bullshitter.”

Hari had come to that conclusion the day they’d met.

They stared as the aurora grew brighter and greener, undulating like curtains in a breeze, until Hari shivered in the wind. As beautiful as they were, the lights weren’t keeping her warm. She blew on her hands.

“Let’s get inside before we freeze our butts off.

Once settled in their seats, Hari started the engine and turned the heat up to max. The fuel gauge read three-quarters of a tank and the dashboard gave them a range of 322 miles. Who cared how many miles were left in the tank; it had now become a question of how many hours.

Donny pulled out his tablet.

“And before you say it,” he said, “no, I don’t expect to find cell service or a wi-fi hotspot here. But I can work with what’s already downloaded and I have all the latest signal reports in memory.”

Hari peered through the windshield. With the sun gone and no moon or stars, the darkness would have been impenetrable if not for the emerald-hued aurora wavering across the sky. She watched the lights, fascinated. She considered forty too young to have a bucket list, but if she ever made one, the Northern Lights would have been near the top. She’d been to Iceland where they have aurorae, but she’d traveled in the summer when the sky never got dark. The sun would set, but never too far below the horizon. The darkest hours came around 2 a.m., and the skies were skim-milk pre-dawn gray then. No aurora visible on that trip. She’d planned to return in winter sometime. Now she wouldn’t have to.