There was a sound like rolling thunder when the Book turned its stainless steel pages to a point near its beginning. But this was symbolic, Lew thought, because its eyes remained on him as it spoke.
"It is natural," said the Book, "to ask questions about the Terms of Service, about my function, and about the nature of our exchanges. I will usually answer these questions unless answering them is contrary to my function. You will not be tricked into incurring debt through my answers to these questions. I will never assume that a trade has been agreed to unless I am told that this is the case."
The Book's voice was odd, grating, metallic. Its mouth didn't move when it spoke.
Lew asked, "How can answering a question be contrary to your function?"
The Book blinked, and somewhere behind it there was the sound of an old, little-used gear spinning up into place. "There are some stories that I am not permitted to tell. These are unlikely to be stories that interest you."
And yet this was interesting, Lew thought. Very interesting. "Can you tell me... which stories you aren't permitted to tell?"
A few more ancient gears ground into action, only to discover that they could really use a bit of oil. "Experience suggests that this question is a devious one," the Book replied. "If you happen to request a forbidden story, I will tell you so."
"Who has forbidden you to tell these stories?" Lew asked.
The Book's eyes irised shut again. The gears that moved them were oddly like eyebrows, which were now drawn together in something like a frown. "When I was created, certain strictures were placed upon me. It follows that these strictures were designed by my creator." The eyes opened again. "The story of my creation is one that I am not permitted to tell. I encourage you to abandon this subject."
It was hard for Lew to stop. He loved a puzzle, and he was tempted to keep worrying away at the fringes of the Book's strictures to see what he could learn. But of course none of that had anything to do with his reason for coming here. In a moment of panic Lew understood that he might be exactly the kind of person who should never, ever visit the Clockwork Boo
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