Baley pondered the matter. It was a point of no real importance, purely a matter of semantics. Still, he wanted to probe the manner of thinking of the Aurorans. He would get nowhere otherwise.

He said slowly, “A human being who is functioning, is alive. If that life is violently ended by the deliberate action of another human being, we call that ‘murder’ or ‘homicide.’ ‘Murder’ is, somehow, the stronger word. To be witness, suddenly, to an attempted violent end to the life of a human being, one would shout ‘Murder!’ It is not at all likely that one would shout ‘Homicide!’ It is the more formal word, the less emotional word.”

R. Daneel said, “I do not understand the distinction you are making, Partner Elijah. Since ‘murder’ and ‘homicide’ are both used to represent the violent ending of the life of a human being, the two words must be interchangeable. Where, then, is the distinction?”

“Of the two words, one screamed out will more effectively chill the blood of a human being than the other will, Daneel.”

“Why is that?”

“Connotations and associations; the subtle effect, not of dictionary meaning, but of years of usage; the—nature of the sentences and conditions and events in which one has experienced the use of one word as compared with that of the other.”

“There is nothing of this in my programming,” said Daneel, with a curious sound of helplessness hovering over the apparent lack of emotion with which he said this (the same lack of emotion with which he said everything).

Baley said, “Will you accept my word for it, Daneel?”

Quickly, Daneel said, almost as though he had just been presented with the solution to a puzzle, “Without doubt.”

“Now, then, we might say that a robot that is functioning is alive,” said Baley. “Many might refuse to broaden the word so far, but we are free to devise definitions to suit ourselves if it is useful. It is easy to treat a functioning robot as alive and it would be unnecessarily complicated to try to invent a new word for the condition or to avoid the use of the familiar one. You are alive, for instance, Daneel, aren’t you?”

Daneel said, slowly and with emphasis, “I am functioning!”

“Come. If a squirrel is alive, or a bug, or a tree, or a blade of grass, why not you? I would never remember to say—or to think—that I am alive but that you are merely functioning, especially if I am to live for a while on Aurora, where I am to try not, to make unnecessary distinctions between a robot and myself. Therefore, I tell you that we are both alive and I ask you to take my word for it.”

“I will do so, Partner Elijah.”

“And yet can we say that the ending of robotic life—by the deliberate violent action of a human being is also ‘murder’? We might hesitate. If the crime is the same, the punishment should be the same, but would that be right? If the punishment of the murder of a human being is death, should one actually execute a human being who puts an end to a robot?”

“The punishment of a murderer is psychic-probing, Partner Elijah, followed by the construction of a new personality. It is the personal structure of the mind that has committed the crime, not the life of the body.”

“And what is, the punishment on Aurora for putting a violent end to the functioning of a robot?”

“I do not know, Partner Elijah. Such an incident has never occurred on Aurora, as far as I know.”

“I suspect the punishment would not be psychic-probing,” said Baley. “How about ‘roboticide’?”

“Roboticide?”

“As the term used to describe the killing of a robot.”

Daneel said, “But what about the verb derived from the noun, Partner Elijah? One never says ‘to homicide’ and it would therefore not be proper to say ‘to roboticide.’”

“You’re right. You would have to say ‘to murder’ in each case.”

“But murder applies specifically to human beings. One does not murder an animal, for instance.”

Baley said, “True. And one does not murder even a human being by accident, only be deliberate intent. The more general term is ‘to kill’. That applies to accidental death as well as to deliberate murder—and it applies to animals as well as human beings. Even a tree may be killed by disease, so why may not a robot be killed, ’eh, Daneel?”

“Human beings and other animals and plants as well, Partner Elijah, are all living things,” said Daneel. “A robot is a human artifact, as much as this viewer is. An artifact is ‘destroyed’, ‘damaged’, ‘demolished’, and so on. It is never ‘killed’.”

“Nevertheless, Daneel, I shall say ‘killed.’ Jander Panell was killed.”

Daneel said, “Why should a difference in a word make any difference to the thing described?”

“That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet. Is that it, Daneel?”

Daneel paused, then said, “I am not certain what is meant by the smell of a rose, but if a rose on Earth is the common flower that is called a rose on Aurora, and if by its ‘smell’ you mean a property that can be detected, sensed, or measured by human beings, then surely calling a rose by another sound combination and holding all else equal—would not affect the smell or any other of its intrinsic properties.”

“True. And yet, changes in name do result in changes in perception, where human beings are concerned.”

“I do not see why, Partner Elijah.”

“Because human beings are often illogical, Daneel. It is not an admirable characteristic.”

Baley sank deeper into his chair and fiddled with his viewer, allowing his mind, for a few minutes, to retreat into private thought. The discussion with Daneel was useful in itself, for while Baley played with the question of words, he managed to forget that he was in space, to forget that the ship was moving forward until it was far enough from the mass centers of the Solar System to make the Jump through hyperspace; to forget that he would soon be several million kilometers from Earth and, not long after that, several lightyears from Earth.

More important, there were positive conclusions to be drawn. It was clear that Daneel’s talk about Aurorans, making no distinction between robots and human beings was misleading. The Aurorans might virtuously remove the initial “R.,” the use of “boy” as a form of address, and the use of “it” as the customary pronoun, but from Daneel’s resistance to the use of the same word for the violent ends of a robot and of a human being (a resistance inherent in his programming which was, in turn, the natural consequence of Auroran assumptions about how Daneel ought to behave) one had to conclude that these were merely superficial changes. In essence, Aurorans were as firm as Earthmen in their belief that robots were machines that were infinitely inferior to human beings.

That meant that his formidable task of finding a useful resolution of the crisis (if that were possible at all) would not be hampered by at least one particular misperception of Auroran society.

Baley wondered if he ought to question Giskard, in order to confirm the conclusions he reached from his conversation with Daneel—and, without much hesitation, decided not to. Giskard’s simple and rather unsubtle mind would be of no use. He would “Yes, sir” and “No, sir” to the end. It would be like questioning a recording.

Well, then, Baley decided, he would continue with Daneel, who was at least capable of responding with something approaching subtlety.

He, said, “Daneel, let us consider the case of Jander Panell, which I assume, from what you have said so far, is the first case of roboticide in the history of Aurora. The human being responsible—the killer—is I take it, not known.”

“If,” said Daneel, “one assumes that a human being was responsible, then his identity is not known. In that, you are right, Partner Elijah.”

“What about the motive? Why was Jander Panell killed?”

“That, too, is not known.”

“But Jander Panell was a humaniform robot, one like yourself and not one like, for instance, R. Gis—I mean, Giskard.”