Jerry said. “You think?” Rimmer asked, still peering through the Plexiglas. “More than that. Look.” Rimmer turned and stared at the giant egg buried in the hay, dozens of spiders crawling out if it. Each was larger than a tarantula. “Why are you waiting? Shoot them!” “We’re in a steel cell, Jerry.” “So?” “Bullets ricochet. We’ll cut ourselves to pieces.” As Jerry backed away, Rimmer advanced on the spider eruption, stomping and swearing. The imps followed suit, scrambling after the arachnids and tearing their legs off. For every one they killed, three more came out of the egg. Jerry remembered what happened to Handler when he was bitten by a spider; the bloke damn near exploded from the venom. Not a good way to go. But there didn’t seem to be any good ways to go in the Spiral.
