Perhaps try some form of puzzle box? They can be very intellectually stimulating, render some protection, and I imagine the book would appreciate a unique safe. Although perhaps put it in a safe as well.

I wake up. I do not know who I am. I do not know where I am. Wait. I am on a hill. A simplistic being of appealing shapes smiles at me from beside me. “Hello, F-A-F iteration 17! It’s so good to see you!” For some reason, I am certain this being is my friend. “Look forward, would you?” It gestures to a large console screen. On the screen are millions of dots, which seem from one way are all green moving towards a larger blue dot. Seen another way, it is a clear blue sky with a large metal tube streaming through it. It smiles at me again. I wonder if it doesn’t smile. “Now, I’ll create an enemy for you. You can avoid it by leaning to the sides to control the missile on the screen!” A sudden red dot/stream of flaming gnats appears on the screen, seemingly tracking me. I throw myself sideways, then back the other way- and intersect the angry line of bullets. The missile on screen becomes chaff as I frown. “No worries, friend, that was a test! Try again.” This time I succeed. I move in a larger arc and continue, letting the bullets track me from behind. “Fantastic! Now for another- good luck!” Suddenly several red dots appear. On the second screen, I see a plane flying towards me, shooting more bullets. I weave around the bullets, and knowing the plane can be harmed, I smash into it and both the plane and my missile vanish. “Oh no! Remember, you want to ensure that your missiles hit the blue goal! If you have to take out a plane to do so, you can- but be sparing.” I nod. “Great! One last test.” I memorize the location of the blue goal, and am not fooled as flares decorate both screens with a spray of red light. “Wow! Fantastic! Let’s begin the game. Remember, you win by landing the most missiles possible at the target.” I begin an aerial dance as every single green dot now falls under mine to control. We weave throughout ourself and dodge attacks and enemies. One falls taking out an annoying plane, and I can feel my intelligence shrink a little. I begin to overclock myself. Computer cycles slow as my remains drift softly to my target. In a line, we Land- First through ninth remaining, one lost- and each one does with my brain . The ninth one lands with only a thought of regret, and I speak aloud now that there is no time for response. “May I choose to leave the game?”