"Don't worry, we'll get through this I promise," the Doctor whispered, "Don't be scared."
"Scared? Who's scared? Geronimo," Amy said.
The Doctor chuckled at his catchphrase and held out a hand to Amy and Rory each. "Hold my hand."
"Why?" Amy asked skeptically.
"I'm going to fly us doooww . . . !"
A Dalek puppet man shoved him into the beam before he could finish. Amy and Rory were shoved in after him and they all rocketed to the Dalek Asylum. It was too late for Amy and Rory, but the Doctor spread his arms and focused all his will on slowing down. He plummeted to the ground, barely slowing down. He began slowing more and more, slowly increasing resistance with the air. The ground neared. The Doctor floated to the ground and laughed, his feet gently touching the snow. He didn't allow himself to fall through the light flakes. Amy and Rory were long gone.
"The nano-cloud. Micro-organisms that automatically process any organic matter, living or dead, into a Dalek puppet," the Doctor explained. He absently patted the skull of a dead crewmember as he spoke. "Anything attacks this place, it automatically becomes part of the on-site security."
"Living or dead?" Amy questioned.
"These wristbands protect us. The only thing stopping us from going exactly-."
"Doctor, shut up! Living or dead?!"
"Yes, exactly, living or . . . or . . ." The Doctor noticed the Dalek eyestalks protruding from the corpse's foreheads.
The decaying bodies slowly began to stand.
". . . Dead," the Doctor finished, "Oh, dear." He grabbed Amy's arm, jumped into the air, and pushed off a chair, launching himself toward the door, pulling Amy with him past the bodies.
A corpse grabbed Amy's arm, but the Doctor yanked her away as they flew through the door. The Doctor dropped to the ground and skidded as Amy stumbled, quickly turning back to close and lock the door.
The Doctor floated beside Amy as she climbed down the rope ladder.
"So, tell me," Amy began for the fourth time, "What's going to happen to me? And don't lie, 'cause I know when you're lying to me and I will let go and make you catch me."
"The air all around is full of micro-machines, robots the size of molecules, nanogenes," the Doctor replied. He closed his eyes and felt every miniscule movement of the air, every molecule that helped him float. "I can feel them in the air . . . ." He opened his eyes. "Now that you're unprotected, you're being . . . rewritten."
The Doctor's feet floated off the ground and he flew around the console, flipping levers and pressing buttons with a joyous grin. "Doctor Who! Doctor Who! Doc . . . tor . . . Who!"