"Well," he said, "before you kill me, tell me about the book." He held it up for Maota to see.
"What about the book?"
"What kind of book is it?"
"What does Mr. Earthgod mean, what kind of book? You have seen it. It is like any other book, except for the material and the fact that it talks."
"No, no. I mean, what's in it?"
"Poetry."
"Poetry? For God's sake, why poetry? Why not mathematics or history? Why not tell how to make the metal of the book itself? Now there is a subject worthy of a book."