The first time it happened the technicians called the authorities. Certain pipelines were temporarily blocked, the system geared down, television announcements to curtail unnecessary flushing. There came numerous complaints, but the technicians were asked to keep the system down a few hours longer for the investigation.
The phone had to be left off the hook. Three days passed before the residual effects cleared. Then the whole incident was forgotten. Toilets across the city performing their magic, unnoticeable functions perfectly.
The second time (eight months later) the technicians also called the authorities. The same sequence of events occurred. The system was not blocked as long this time, but still the head of the commission noted the increase in the service debit ratio associated with nonfunctional time. (It cost money.)
The plant was behind a tall anomalous levee running several hundred feet along a neighborhood block. Out of sight from the streets below was the roiling reservoir, marked by hundreds of small geysers. With disturbing colorations. The technicians looked out over it daily like voyagers upon a limitless ocean.
In neither instance were the investigators able to pinpoint any tangible source of the neonate corpses, flushed somewhere in the city. Given the entry port nearest the first appearance of the chemically-bleached skull coverings, they could only guess at a sixty or seventy block region. Maybe. Logistically, narrowing it down further was impossible.
After that the technicians did not shut the plant down again, board approval noted. The normal breakdown processes ultimately proved sufficient for complete dissolution. That's what they told themselves.
