The bell began ringing halfway through Mara Venn’s ration.
Its first note rolled across the settlement like a metal sun breaking apart. The second struck before the echo had died, deep enough to tremble in the plastic cup between her hands. Around her, the midnight queue froze beneath the awning of the distribution shed, every face turning toward the black rise where the reservoir tanks stood behind their concrete wall.
Mara lowered the cup. The water inside quivered, reflecting the blue-white strip lights.