“I remember hearing about it. Apparently a scientist fled there once. Never heard back from him.”

"He is almost certainly dead. By my calculations, if nobody makes a deliberate effort to clean it up, the glowing sea will continue to glow for about forty thousand years."

“It’s probably not the only doomed place in the Wasteland.”

Chester tilts his head. It’s a very human gesture. “Have you ever flown outside of America? Is the world as scarred?”

"Rest of the world's not doing much better, afraid to say. There's patches of civilization, here and there. And there's remote areas that didn't get hit all that hard and have accordingly fewer mutant problems, though still plenty of bandits and raiders."

“World gone mad.” It seems like Chester’s quoting something, but he doesn’t continue. 

“I guess the east coast has the only synth related problems. I never heard anything about a second Institute location.”

"There's other baddies. None of them are the Institute, I'll give you that."

“No rest anywhere,” Chester agrees. “My plan was to go further south, but without something to cover myself, I’d be taken as something bad.”

"Mm. Yeah, you probably would. Hopefully the Railroad can help you. I've made myself a comfy little niche. People get jealous, or envious, or angry - there was some luck but it was mostly hard work. And I didn't kill hundreds of people to get here."

“The Institute’s justification for it is that they weren’t going to survive anyway. What a strange way to justify murder, right? Makes me sick to hear ‘for the greater good’.”

"I could see that argument making sense in some circumstances. Extreme ones, mind. Everything's shades of grey. Always has been. Always will be." Sigh.

Echoing sigh, which sounds oddly metallic.

"You're alive and headed to the railroad. I have a ship and a steady trade. More than can be said for a lot of folks. How near the Railroad do you want to be dropped off? If I go right over their place it's kind of obvious it's their place, but you don't want to walk halfway across the city, I'm guessing."

“How...do you know where the Railroad is? I thought only synths and operatives knew?” He seems to be giving Nick a scrutinising look.

"I mentioned poking about in your head? That." Oh, christ. He's probably scared. And right to be - It's scary. "It's what convinced me you're a person and to fix you up, the poking about, though. And I'm not gonna spread it around."

“You...how long ago did that ghoul find me?”

"It'd be... Twelve days, now? I was busy for most of that, sorry for the delay."

“You had me for two weeks before you thought to...bring me back?”

"I was busy. Dodging the Enclave, no less. Fabbing takes time, too. And I'm giving you a lift to the railroad. You complaining about the schedule?"