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“Well, that was about as helpful as bagpiper in a room full of sleeping babies,” Murtagh grumbled as he took his seat in the bistro after leaving the faculty seminar on artificial intelligence in the classroom. The semester was starting in a week, and the annual flurry of mandatory meetings was in full swing. “What the hell do they expect us to do with all this knowledge? They’ve given us no guidance whatsoever.”
“Aye,” Jamie added, setting down his tray on the table. “Ye’re no’ wrong. They’ve done nothing but absolve themselves of any responsibility, and dumped the whole mess on the faculty.”
Geillis shifted her chair, making room for Jamie at the table. “I ken that the job was too much for ye, what wi’ wee Bree and all, but honestly, I canna believe that if you were still president that ye’d be this incompetent over such a major issue.”
Jamie snorted, then settled into a chuckle as he sat down, scooting his tray over to make space for Claire to join the group.
“To be fair,” John interjected, “different departments may choose to take different approaches to AI, and an overarching policy may take time to develop. I cannot imagine that the mathematics department and the English department will be facing exactly the same issues.”
“Dr. Grey, ever the diplomat…” Geillis rolled her eyes. “That may be true, but by putting it completely on the faculty to police, they can blame all the inevitable problems on us as well. What do ye think, Claire?"
“I think I have no bloody idea how I’m going to manage my first year seminar essays,” she replied, stabbing a bite of salad and holding it aloft. “Plagiarism detection software is useless if a bot writes the essay. I’m considering having them do it in class, longhand, but that cuts into teaching time.”
“Mmphm…”
A cloud of frustrated silence descended over the table as everyone began to eat.
“I’ve even locked up all my fanfic,” Geillis said, breaking the quiet. “AO3 has apparently become a target for bots looking to mine material for AI. Ye need an account to read them now. No more guests…or bots!”
“I didn’t know you wrote fanfic,” Claire replied as she stared at her friend. “Since when? What fandom?”
“Star Wars,” she mumbled, fingers covering her mouth as she swallowed a bite of her sandwich. “I’m a huge Reylo stan. ScottishForceGhost is my pen name. It’s a very niche hobby. I’ve been told I write excellent smut. Just one of my many talents.”
Claire’s eyebrows rose and her eyes widened, cheeks suddenly pink as Jamie began to cough, apparently choking on his pizza. Turning toward him, Claire smacked him sharply between the shoulder blades as he sputtered, trying to regain his composure. A look passed between them, undetected by the others.
The conversation continued, with Murtagh, the oldest and least tech savvy of the group, complaining the loudest and longest. Eventually, John volunteered to help him if he needed it, with Jamie offering his own assistance as well. An hour later, Geillis had left for another meeting, and John had departed campus for the day. Jamie and Claire walked hand in hand across campus, discussing the busy orientation week ahead. Eventually, only Murtagh remained at the table, grumbling into his coffee as he read the newspaper alone.
At the entrance to Lallybroch Hall, Jamie turned to Claire with a smirk.
“See ye in five?”
Claire nodded, the tiniest of smiles spreading over her lips as she strode off toward her office.
