“Not at all the same thing. You’re viewing me right now. You can’t touch me, can you, or smell me, or anything like that. You could if you were seeing me. Right now, I’m two hundred miles away from you at least. So how can it be the same thing?” Baley grew interested. “But I see you with my eyes.” “No, you don’t see me. You see my image. You’re viewing me.” “And that makes a difference?” “All the difference there is.” “I see.” In a way he did. The distinction was not one he could make easily, but it had a kind of logic to it.”