"And so the natural curiosities that all races have had about cyborgs up until this point in time are tested and, when successful, manufactured right here in Chrome Laboratories. This concludes our automated tour. Thank you for you visit." The female projection beside Rory vanished and the Doctor sighed in relief.
"Really you to, if you wanted to learn about robots in history The TARDIS's memory bank would've set you right in a flash."
"Yes, but Doctor exactly how many times does someone from the 21st century get to visit a cyborg factory?" Amy's arm draped lazily around Rory's as she leaned in to examine a nearly-fossilized first edition scanning bot from 3045.
"Be that as it may, couldn't we have visited somewhere less depressing?"
"What do you mean depressing?" Rory asked, aware of the Doctor's less-than-pleased expression, which he'd been sporting since the subject of robots and robot/human hybrids had arisen the previous morning. The Doctor had been telling them about his adventure on a ship called Poseidon, and had mentioned a rather unconfident cyborg named Balakafalatta who had found his courage and saved the day. Amy had found it inspiring.
"How did they ever actually manage cyborgs, Doctor?" She'd asked.
When they'd arrived at Chrome Laboratories, the Doctor's enthusiasm had disappeared almost instantly, and he'd stared at the massive concrete building with agitation and worry. Rory's observation was pushed to the back of his mind as Amy pulled him toward another exhibit.
That was when the Doctor heard it again, the small voice that had called out to him the moment they'd arrived. It was most definitely not a telepathic message-he saw no face to match the voice, but it was a clear, if very soft, cry for help. He listened carefully, closing his eyes, trying to locate the source of-hold on, he thought, and reached into his jacket pocket, pulled out his screwdriver and stared intently at it.
It was louder this time, though still distorted. The voice was coming from the screwdriver itself.
"Great," he said absentmindedly, "First the TARDIS now my sonic." As he became more and more enamored by the possibility of all his gadgets possibly possessing the ability to speak, Amy and Rory finally noticed his behavior.
"Doctor what is it?" Amy looked at him, confused. And then the Doctor realized what was more likely to be happening.
"Interference," He said quietly, this time looking around the entire room.
"What?"
"Interference. My screwdriver is picking up signals from somewhere in the building, signals from a robot," They walked briskly back the way they'd come, looking for something he'd missed before, something that might give them a clue as to where the signal was coming from. They stopped suddenly in front of an unmarked door. The Doctor Scanned it and smiled.
"And whoever is sending the signals is calling for help."
