My name is Marco. I can't tell you my last name or where I live. Believe me, I wish I could. I would like nothing more than to be able to tell you my name is Marco Jones or Williams or Vasquez or Brown or Anderson or McCain. Marco McCain. Has kind of a nice sound, doesn't it? But McCain's not my last name. I'm not even going to swear to you that Marco is my first name. See, I'm hoping to live awhile longer. I'm not going to make it any easier for the Yeerks to find me. I live in a paranoid world. But just because I'm paranoid doesn't mean I don't have enemies. I have real enemies. Enemies that would freeze your blood if you only knew. So, see, I'd like to tell you my name, and address, and phone number, too, because if I could do that, it would mean I no longer had any enemies. It would mean my life was normal again.

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