So that was a development I absolutely should have expected, but didn't. In case you were wondering, first frost in 2287 was the night of October 28-29. I'd woken up feeling chilly, but that in and of itself wasn't really unusual. Despite all the repairs I'd made, the house was still pretty drafty. Still, when I saw the frost-kissed ground outside my front door, I realized that I'd been failing to account for a dawning problem: winter. Even if the apocalyptic nuclear winters had passed while I was sleeping, this was still New England, and as we pushed towards the end of the year it was going to keep getting colder.

Adding insult to injury, just as I turned back into the living room to take stock, the lights flickered and went out. This was my fault, in part, because I'd forgotten to disconnect the battery before I went to bed. Still, it highlighted the weak link in my shelter. That battery was only good for a few days, and when it was drained I'd be right back to scrounging for battery components, none of which seemed to be available here in Sanctuary Hills. I was going to need to either find a better solution - a fusion generator would make all my problems go away - or find a better source for parts. Today, I decided to dig through the Red Rocket dump site some more, but if that came up dry, I'd need to range further out. Maybe the junkyard north of town would give me the source of materials I needed, but thanks to the radioactive lake that separated me from it, it'd be a long walk through the woods to get there. 

Walking down to the service station, I could feel the change in temperature acutely. Comfortable as it might be, my vault suit really wasn't designed with the cold in mind. I needed to find a good solution to keep the house warm, and fast, because once winter set in in full force, I'd probably be spending most of my time indoors. And for that matter, I needed to start hoarding food - I'd found a number of cans of pre-war, preservative loaded "no expiration date" foodstuffs around town, and they'd last me a while, but even with strict rationing it wasn't enough. I came to the unhappy realization that I was on a much tighter timeframe than I'd previously believed. 

I had one lucky turn of events once I reached the Red Rocket. While digging through piles of empty containers and other trash in the underground dump, I came across something heavy with a big toggle switch on the side. I pulled it loose and discovered it was a Wattz brand portable fission battery. My first thought was the feed it into the Workshop for materials, but just out of curiosity I flipped the switch. That action rewarded me with a hum and a green standby light. It seems that I'd just solved my power issue, at least for the moment. That's not to say it was an easy fix - the battery was heavy, and even after rigging a makeshift backpack to carry it, the trip home was long and uncomfortable. 

Also, did I say it was a lucky turn of events? No, I was just kidding. The damn thing wasn't compatible with the Robco brand power connectors. So, after all that excitement, what I ended up with was a mildly radioactive paperweight. Right about then, I was really wishing I'd paid more attention in my STEM classes, but that's a ship that had already sailed. But I did get an interesting clue from an unlikely source.

As I was hauling the battery back to my house, I heard a tinny, metallic voice. Ducking into cover behind some tangled shrubbery, I stood silently as, of all things, an advertising Eyebot serenely floated by. In its tinny voice, it promised exciting jobs at the Cambridge Polymer Labs. 

It struck me that this might be another dead end - a leftover robot repeating its last job from centuries ago - but it might also mean that some sort of civilization still existed in Cambridge. After all, the Commonwealth Institute of Technology used to be in Cambridge. If there was anywhere that might still have living scientists, or at least their descendants, it'd be Cambridge. Right?

OK, that was probably wishful thinking. But now was about the last chance I'd have to roam further than my immediate surroundings. I'd have to wait for this first frost to clear, but once it did I resolved to visit the Polymer Labs. Maybe there was someone there who could help me get the battery working - or even help me set up a more permanent power solution.

Dawn on the 30th revealed that the frost was almost all gone. But that was no guarantee that it wouldn't be back soon, so I didn't waste any time. Thankfully, my Pip-Boy had a built-in map, and after a little snooping I concluded the most direct path was to follow the railroad that ran parallel with Route 93 until I get to the Charles river, then follow Route 3 into Cambridge. Mindful of Codsworth's warning, I avoided Concord and followed a back road until it reached the rail crossing.  As I walked, I saw more signs of life than I would have expected based on my experience up to then. Unwilling to risk contact just yet, I stayed at a distant and tried to keep hidden. 

At length, I reached the Cambridge Polymer Labs building. I wasn't quite sure what to expect. On one hand, I didn't see any signs of activity outside, but a light by the door was turned on, and the doors didn't appear to be locked. 

The interior was completely wrecked - immediately I was sure I couldn't expect to find any survivors there. However, the lack of human occupants didn't mean the facility was empty. Whirring around from behind the reception desk, a Ms. Nanny robot greeted me cheerfully.

"Welcome to Cambridge Polymer Labs", she said, "an exciting career in science awaits you. Shall we begin your interview?"

As much out of curiosity as anything else, I agreed. Ms. Nanny then explained that, owing to personnel shortages, she would compress the interview process. Launching into a question about polymer synthesis, she quickly determined I had no idea what she was asking about.

Undeterred, the Ms. Nanny - her name was Molly - cheerfully explained that I'd been hired as the new janitor. I was almost insulted, but it struck me that the kind of access a janitor had was just what I'd need to search the place for anything worth bringing back. Thus, ready to being me "bright future in the career of mopping floors," I followed Molly throughout the ruins of the building as she explained the history of the firm. Apparently the Labs were a tech startup that was working as a military contractor. Better and better for the prospect of finding useful salvage. 

After showing me the break room and reminding me to write my name on my cigarettes, Molly ushered me into a changing area and instructed me to change into my jumpsuit. Doing my best to keep up the ruse, I slipped into the outfit and tried to ignore the chafing against my sensitive nipples. Before I knew it, I was into the labs - still at least partially lit, so there was some kind of active power source there. Unfortunately, Molly then locked the door behind me and cheerfully explained that the CEO had put the entire staff on indefinite mandatory overtime.

I was trapped. And from the gurgling groans I could hear in the distance, I was not alone.