Now Millhauser was explaining just what made the Buddy so special: the ergonomic design. Here, the company president allowed a wry smile. More human than humankind, he said. Greater intellectual capacity, thanks to the SNS-8748, a patented chip designed to collate and articulate cultural differences so the Buddy could function anywhere from New York to Papua New Guinea. Stronger than its predecessors, safer, more efficient, longer battery life, shorter charge time, the ability to self-repair. Easy to assemble, and there was the option to have the Buddy custom-built by a tech for more credits. A child lock so the young couldn’t order Buddy to do harm, even so much as swear. Additional teaching modules sold as downloadable content, thousands of subjects for the family that preferred home schooling. The Buddy could dive to 100 metres, climb to 50,000 feet and was already in service above our heads, on space stations and satellites and dry-dock launch platforms.

While Millhauser pitched his miracle product to our households, we listened. We swallowed every word as the camera tracked ever so slowly to the right, imperceptibly at first, until we realised the Seneca president’s head was leaving the shot. We second-guessed ourselves: it was the shot leaving Millhauser. The camera kept tracking, first revealing nothing but a window overlooking clear green grass, a blue sky; the cliff, it was the same cliff! Then the edge of a large, tidy desk, pads and pens, a Manchester United coffee mug, the corner of a wafer-thin viewscreen, a nameplate – Daniel Millhauser, President – and finally Millhauser, sat behind the desk with his hands clasped, the quiet trickster wearing a distant smile.

And we jumped. Across the nation, probably the world over, we jumped at the realisation. Millhauser got to his feet, placed a hand on his doppelgänger’s shoulder. He smiled at the Buddy and the Buddy smiled at him, though it was impossible to tell one from the other, and then, even though they both looked pretty jovial, it was difficult to tell what the joke was, or who had told it.

They looked straight into camera, spoke as one:

The Buddy 3000. The world of the future, now.

The Seneca logo, the Buddy 3000 logo, a black screen with details in white, the price, specifications, small print that outlined monthly repayments of 15% APR. Ten seconds or less and the information was gone. Dark screen. Opening credits of The Lanes.